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jupiterpilgrim · 5 months ago

Text

The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed

Seulgi x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K

The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.

"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."

You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."

"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."

"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.

Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.

"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"

Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."

The blood drains from your face as realization hits.

Fuck.

Those folders.

The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...

"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.

"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."

"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"

"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."

Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.

"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."

"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"

"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"

Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.

"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."

Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?

"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."

You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."

"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."

Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.

"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"

Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.

"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."

Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."

Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."

The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."

"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"

You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.

"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."

That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.

You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.

"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."

You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.

Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.

"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.

Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."

You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.

"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.

"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."

You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."

You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.

"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."

You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.

Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."

You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."

"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."

You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.

"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."

"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."

But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."

You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.

"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."

You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.

"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."

"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."

You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.

"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."

Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.

"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."

You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."

"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."

You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.

"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."

She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.

"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."

You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."

Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.

Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.

After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."

She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."

Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."

You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.

"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.

"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."

You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.

"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."

You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.

"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."

Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.

"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.

"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."

You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."

"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."

You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.

Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."

You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.

"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.

"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"

"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."

The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.

You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."

You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.

"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."

She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.

"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."

"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"

Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"

You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."

"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."

"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"

"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."

Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.

"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."

"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.

"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.

"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."

Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."

You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.

"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."

"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.

"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"

"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."

Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."

"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."

The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.

"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."

"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."

You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.

"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."

"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."

A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.

"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."

You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.

"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.

"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."

"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”

Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”

“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”

She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”

“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”

“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”

“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”

You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?

The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...

The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.

"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."

She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"

"Want to come find out for yourself?"

"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."

You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."

Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.

"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.

You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.

"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.

Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.

"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"

"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."

You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.

"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."

You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.

"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.

"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”

She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.

You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.

"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.

You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.

"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.

You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.

Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.

You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.

"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.

You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.

"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”

She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.

You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.

"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.

"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."

Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.

She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.

You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.

"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."

You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.

"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.

You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.

"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."

She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.

"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.

When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.

"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."

Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.

You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."

"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"

You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."

Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.

"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"

You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.

The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.

"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"

Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”

You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."

Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."

Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.

"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."

She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."

You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."

"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.

"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.

"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"

You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.

When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.

She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.

"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."

She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.

"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."

"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."

The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.

"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."

You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.

"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."

"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.

—

After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.

"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.

She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."

"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."

"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."

Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.

Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"

You grin, pushing your plate aside.

"Who’s pretending?”

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kashverse · 3 months ago

Text

(misspellings are intentional to reflect yuuji's age, i wrote him as a 3-4 year old in mind)

it started with yuuji waddling into the apartment, clutching his tiny fists like he’d just returned from battle. he puffed his cheeks, brows furrowed in intense focus, before dramatically exhaling and declaring,

“papamin, it’s an emergengy.”

nanami, mid-sifting flour in his pastel pink apron (because real men wear pink, and real dads keep the household running), barely had time to process before his son—his sweet, sunshine boy—grabbed his hand with his chubby fingers and led him toward the crime scene.

“the bad boys outside—they call me a… a… a baby poop head.”

nanami, blinking down at his child, sighed deeply. he set down the mixing bowl, dusting his hands off like a man preparing for war.

“yuuji, what did i say about using words instead of fists?”

“i know, papa.” his son sniffled. “but my words not working. they just laughing, and then they say you prolly wear a diapee too.”

nanami was going to kill a third grader.

so there he was, the strongest dad in the trenches, still in his flour-dusted pink apron, walking out to the communal park outside their apartment complex where a group of grade schoolers had gathered. yuuji pointed, voice hushed with the weight of the situation, “that’s them, papa. the gang of doom.” they were just three mildly feral-looking children in graphic tees, but nanami knew that to yuuji, this was serious business. standing to his full height, he crossed his arms and called out, “excuse me.”

the gang of doom froze. one of them—clearly the ringleader with his messy cowlick and untied shoelaces—blinked up at nanami. “uh. yeah?”

“i heard you’ve been bullying my son.”

cowlick snorted. “we just playin’! he a baby poop head.”

nanami exhaled through his nose. there were many things he had patience for, but disrespecting yuuji was not one of them. he placed a firm hand on his hip, leaning slightly down.

“do you know what happens to kids who pick on others?”

the gang of doom exchanged glances. one of them—glasses kid—pushed his frames up. “they go to jail?” nanami smiled thinly. “worse. they grow up to be adults with bad credit scores.”

there was a silence as the weight of his words settled in. cowlick gulped. “what’s a credit score?”

“exactly.” nanami straightened, adjusting his apron. “you don’t know, do you? and that’s dangerous. imagine you’re an adult, trying to buy a house—”

“i don’t wanna buy a house!”

“—and suddenly, the bank denies your loan. why? bad credit.”

glasses kid gasped. “bad credit?”

nanami nodded solemnly. “it starts young. first, it’s bullying innocent kids. next, it’s missing payments on your first car. before you know it, you’re drowning in financial instability.”

cowlick shuffled back. “w-we were just playin’.”

“oh?” nanami quirked a brow. “was it fun?”

the three boys rapidly shook their heads.

“good. then i suggest you find a new game. perhaps, one that doesn’t involve making my son feel bad. do you understand?”

the gang of doom nodded so hard their heads might’ve flown off. nanami gave a satisfied hum before turning to his son. “come on, yuuji. let’s go home.”

yuuji, who had been watching with wide eyes like he’d just witnessed a masterclass in warfare, let out a deep, impressed “whoaaaa.” he grabbed nanami’s hand, giggling as they walked back inside. and that night, during dinner, yuuji climbed onto his chair and dramatically recounted the entire event to you.

“—so then! papa said, ‘bad cwe-edit,’ and the gang of doom got real scawed! like, so scawed! and then papa was like, ‘do you know what happens next?’ and they was like ‘nooo, please, we so sowwy, we don’t wanna go to the bad cwe-edit jail!’”

nanami sighed as he took a sip of wine. “i never mentioned jail.”

“and then—” yuuji smacked his hands on the table, voice full of wonder. “—papa walked away, and he didn’t even look back! it was like… like a movie! i think you the strongest dad in da world, papa.” his little face shone with admiration, and nanami, feeling a rare moment of sentimentality, reached out to ruffle yuuji’s hair.

“… thank you, yuuji.”

his son beamed, stuffing a piece of bread into his mouth.

then, with the crumbs still on his face, he pointed a chubby finger. “also, what’s a cwe-edit score?”

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604to647 · 10 days ago

Text

Little Showgirl

12.8K / Modern AU Marcus Acacius x fem!reader

Summary: You do your roommate a favour that lands you in hot water with the head of security at Caesar’s Palace.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). The opposite of a meet cute (meet hate?). A little insecurity on Reader's part; no body shape or size is described even though Reader wears a showgirl costume (we assume it's an inclusive event). There is probably an age gap somewhere given that Acacius is canonically 50 (?), but I didn't intend to write one so feel free to imagine everyone at whatever age you want. Unwanted touching (not by Marcus), accidentally flashing, thigh riding, eventual nicknames.

A/N 1: Written for @toomanystoriessolittletime’s 47 Minutes in Heaven writing challenge, the prompt I got was 'Enemies to Lovers' - thank you for the fun event, Steph!

A/N 2: I don't know what happened with the w/c 😭😭 I need you to know I really tried to cut it down - sorreeeeee. We were supposed to go to a friend's vow renewal in Vegas this month, but cancelled our trip due to current travel advisories 😫, so maybe this was my way of visiting Vegas in lieu of actually going?

Apologies to Janet Jackson for dragging you into this 🙏🏻 / Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

You walk hurriedly down a lavish corridor on the concourse level of Caesar’s Palace, trying to maintain some semblance of grace and propriety while desperately holding your showgirl costume against your chest to prevent it from falling. Your other hand clutches the costume’s feather fan prop and a sewing kit that one of the housekeepers mercifully offered you when you ran by. Nodding politely to guests as you pass, you hope against hope that the heavy sequin and beaded outfit, whose back clasp is currently broken, doesn’t slip and give any of these nice tourists a real show. All you have to do is make it to the employee change room to hopefully mend the garment, and afterwards go back to work with no one the wiser to your wardrobe malfunction.

Anxiety alleviating slightly as you round the corner towards the service elevator, your relief is short-lived when you see the elevator already waiting with its doors open and in it stands a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in celebratory Roman battle skirts of bright white and gold.

Dammit, not this fucking prick. Just what you need right now.

The salt and pepper curly haired Adonis spots you just as you do him, and you swear you see his jaw tighten and tick beneath his matching grey flecked scruff; eyes narrowing, he reaches forward and you can see him aggressively pressing the Close Door button.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you mutter, doubling your steps; the beads and pearls of your loosened outfit sway violently, making tiny music as you rush to slip between the doors of the elevator before they close.

The man glares at you and you glare right back, reaching past him to swipe your (well, your roommate’s) access badge before realizing the button for the basement floor you need has already been pressed. Great. You’re both going to the same place.

“General,” you greet him, sarcastic.

The General nods in acknowledgment, squaring back the shoulders of his impressive frame, somehow making him even larger and more intimidating than he already is, before wholly ignoring you, choosing to stare at the cold steel in front of him.

2 Days Ago

“Pleeeeeeasssseeeeeeee!” Your roommate is on her knees next to you on the couch, hands clasped in aggressive prayer, pouting and eyes pleading.

You sigh, “Arishat, what exactly are you even asking me?” You had heard and understood her perfectly the first time; you just want her to repeat it, hoping that upon hearing her own words out loud again, she’ll comprehend the absurdity of the favour she’s asking.

“You only need to give up your staycation for one day – and I’ll owe you forever,” her big brown eyes somehow growing twice in size.

Tilting your head, you give her an incredulous look but remain silent.

“Seriously, it’s no big deal! You know how the Strip is putting on Golden Days of Vegas events for the next two weeks to attract tourists? All the resorts are bringing back the glitz and glamour of classic Las Vegas – like a Rat Pack era vibe. Won’t that be fun?”

“MMmhmmmm,” you hum noncommittally. As locals, you and Arishat hardly even went to the Strip, but it did sound like a lot of fun for visitors to the city.

Not letting your lack of outward enthusiasm deter her, your roommate chippers on excitedly, “Anywaaays… Caesar’s Palace is going all out – hiring extra staff to be old school gladiator greeters, Cleopatra waitresses, and classic showgirls to wander the property! Think of all those glamours Bob Mackie inspired costumes!”

“I bet the costumes will be gorgeous,” you indulge her a little, “but what does that have to do with me, babe?”

“Ummm… well, you know I booked the showgirl gig at Caesar’s…”

You did know.

“… but, Janet Jackson is considering extending her residency at Resorts World and is auditioning for background performers. And auditions just happen to be the first day of Golden Days!! I can’t do both! If I miss the first day at Caesar’s then I lose an entire two-weeks of work! But… babe!! It’s Janet!! How can I give up a chance to try and perform with her??!”

She can’t. You sigh again.

“So, you want me to be you for a day?”

Shuffling closer on her knees, Arishat, your bestest friend in the world who you know would move heaven and earth for you if needed, and who works harder than anyone to pursue her passions, takes your hands in hers, “I already have my ID card for Caesar’s – there’s no picture because we’re just temporary hires so it won’t matter what you look like. I also have the costume – it’s beautiful, you’ll love it. Please just fill in for me on the first day – it should be slow, mainly orientation, but I’m sure it’s just walking around the resort in groups and taking pictures with tourists… no performing or anything. And the next day I’ll take over - no one will know I wasn’t there the day before and I won’t get fired!”

Your head swims with uncertainty – unlike Arishat, you’re not used to being in the spotlight or working in the entertainment sector, much more comfortable in the anonymity of your office job; but you can’t say no to her. Closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, you let silence hang in the air for a second or two more, “Ok, show me the costume and tell me exactly what I have to do tomorrow.”

Her squeal nearly pierces your eardrum.

Yesterday

It’s not even 8 a.m. and you already regret agreeing to Arishat’s outlandish request. First, navigating the Strip’s backstreets to the Caesar’s Palace parkade had proven to be a near Herculean feat in patience and focus, taking twice as long as you had planned for. Now you’re stuck circling the parkade, crawling along at a snail’s pace in this concrete labyrinth trying to find the entrance to the employee’s parking lot.

Did they have to make it so hard to find? And why is this place so huge? There must be a million cars here.

Hands clutched tightly at ten and two, you’re hunched forward and squinting like an old lady, trying to read any and all signs in hopes that one of them will point you in the right direction. You’re pretty sure you’re lost. You know you’ve gone in this same circle at least twice.

Just when you think things couldn’t get worse, you spy a fast-approaching car in your rear-view mirror. Instead of passing, the other car practically kisses your bumper and proceeds to ride your ass as you meander the parkade looking for the employee entrance. And if you weren’t already unnerved, you see the driver of the car start to gesticulate wildly – throwing their hands up in the air, frustrated at your slow pace.

“Geez Louise,” you mutter, “just go around?”

But they don’t. They just keep right on your tail as you descend deeper and deeper into the lot. Mercifully, the parking gods take pity on you and you finally spot a small, discreet Employees ➡️ sign. After heading in the direction indicated, you’re rewarded with another identical sign; about to celebrate finally being on the right track, you hear it:

Honk.

What the fuck? Then again. Honk. Are you being honked at?

The car behind is still so obnoxiously close you can make out that the driver is a man whose eyes are making aggressive eye contact via your rearview mirror, and yes, he is in fact leaning on his horn.

Chill, dude. You narrow your eyes, certain the driver can see your annoyed expression, and continue at the same speed, unwilling to miss what you’re looking for just to appease some impatient stranger.

When you finally come upon a gated entryway with a hanging “Employees Only” sign above it, you can’t help but do a mini celebration dance in your seat; pulling forward, you roll down your window and swipe the ID card Arishat gave you last night over the access pad.

Nothing. The gate doesn’t lift and the card reader’s indication light blinks infuriatingly red.

Maybe you’re too far away. You unbuckle your seatbelt so you can lean out the window, stretching your arm out to wave the card over the reader again. Nothing. You try again. And again. Angling the card differently each time, but no matter what, the control pad won’t recognize your card.

The driver side door of the car behind yours opens and out steps the largest man you’ve ever seen. Impossibly broad, a wall of solid muscle whose physical prowess is evident in every stalking stride he takes towards your car, the imposing figure reaches your open window in just a few steps. Your eyes can’t help but stare at the monstrous hand that comes to a rest on top of the access box, nearly dwarfing the machinery with its size. Mouth agape and eyes wide, you follow the long line of the man’s equally massive arm to his face which has suddenly come into view.

The face is older, knowing, lined with resolve. Serious looking and anchored by a strong aquiline nose sitting perfectly between two piercing, espresso-rich eyes, the striking profile is bordered by scruffy but evenly trimmed facial hair that blends perfectly up into head of the same speckled chestnut and grey curls. It’s a face you might admire as handsome if it wasn’t scowling at you.

The intensity radiating off the man is making you nervous, “Oh! Hey, sorry… I don’t know what I’m doing wrong… it won’t register my card no matter how I try to sw-”

“Are you even supposed to be here?” a low, gravely baritone cuts you off.

Um, okay, rude. Unease evaporating, you hold up your temporary employee ID indignantly, “Yes, I’m here to work Golden Days.”

The man inspects your card with suspicion and sighs in exasperation before snatching your pass out of your hand. Okay, double rude.

He expertly presses the card right up against the reader and you see the light flash green before hearing the gears above the metal gate whirl to life. Wordlessly, the man hands you back your card and starts walking back to his car.

“Thank you!” you call out to his retreating back, but when he doesn’t even acknowledge you, you roll your eyes and your window, ready to drive forward as soon as the gate’s lifted high enough.

Upon entering the employee parking lot, you find a free space almost immediately - and close to the elevators to boot! Grinning that your luck has surely turned, you do a sharp left and back into the prime parking space – hooray! You’re just cutting your engine when you see your shadow pull to a stop right in front of your car with the driver, still glaring at you, making a double-handed open palmed gesture and yelling what you think is, Are you kidding me?

With a quizzical look tinged in agitation, you shake your head at him, What? As you step out of your vehicle, the man takes off at an aggressive speed, tires squealing as he races past the row of parked cars - but not before you see his upper lip curl up in a snarl.

What a jerk!

Just in case, however, you survey the space you’ve parked in while retrieving your things from the trunk – upon finding no reason not to park here, you quickly head over to the elevator bank, pressing your key card against the reader like you saw the man do at the lot gate to gain access. You’ve just stepped into the elevator when you hear the thundering footsteps of someone running towards the alcove before beeping in. Naturally, you hold the doors, but almost regret doing so when you see the glowering face of your new best friend. He’s staring at you with a look of pure, unadulterated loathing, the intensity of which is so shocking, you find yourself shaking a little as you swipe you card against the elevator reader, momentarily forgetting which floor Arishat told you to go to.

“You’re going to B4,” your elevator mate gruffs, roughly brushing his arm past yours to press the button.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly. Just because someone’s an impolite ass doesn’t mean you have to be as well.

The ride is eerily silent and oddly strained. Small talk is out of the question, obviously - but the tension is killing you. Just as you consider thanking the curmudgeon again for his help so far today, he opens his mouth.

“You took my parking spot.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re. Parked. In. My. Spot,” the man grits, barely moving his lips.

You’re confused, “There wasn’t a sign saying it was reserved?”

“Doesn’t matter. I always park there.”

And to think you were about to try and make nice? The man is being completely unreasonable; you look at him in disbelief, snapping, “Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?”

“Well, what do you know? You don’t know where you’re going, you don’t know how anything here works, and you certainly don’t know your place.”

The look on your face must register your utter shock at being yelled at by a total stranger, because for a second, the man’s stormy mocha eyes soften and flicker with something like regret. He opens his mouth, though nothing comes out.

“Well, I know that you’re the rudest, most entitled asshole I’ve ever met.”

The behemoth closes his mouth and glares at you. You glare right back. Neither of you breaks eye contact until the elevator reaches its destination with a ding.

As the doors open to the welcomed sound of people chattering, rushing around and going about their morning, the man gestures with dramatic flair, waving for you to go ahead, “Ladies first. Wouldn’t want to be rude.”

You walk out without a backwards glance, grateful that there’s clear signage indicating where the change room is so you can storm off without being seen asking for directions. That better be the last time you see that dillweed.

---

Turns out you would see him less than an hour later.

The change room had been bustling and chaotic but positively charged with excitement and supportive female energy. Happily, you know a few of the girls through Arishat and they really rally around you – helping tuck and adjust your showgirl costume, fixing your hair and touching up your makeup. Still feeling completely out of your element, you appreciate their efforts to soothe your anxiety, assuring you the embroidered fabric of your costume only appears sheer, but actually provides sufficient coverage and that you look the part of confident, show stopping entertainer.

Currently, your giggling group joins other showgirls, Egyptian queens and men dressed as gladiators in a small meeting hall, ready to get your assignments for the start of Caesar’s Golden Days.

A hush falls over the room as several people enter and get up on the raised platform at the front. Every one of the newcomers is dressed as a Roman gladiator, though their dress seems somewhat grander than those worn by the entertainment talent you’re sitting with. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the largest, most broad-shouldered figure; the breadth of the man fills out his battle armour of dark leather and metal without an inch to spare, a golden medusa on his chest plate gleams impressive, ready to leap out at real or imagined enemies. Dark leather skirts do nothing to hide the man’s wide, powerful thighs and you have no doubt that his arms are similarly burly, though they’re currently covered by a luxurious red cape with gold trim that fastens with authority at his thick neck.

Oh fuck.

It’s him. The muscular, drool-worthy snack you’re currently ogling is the same despicable cretin that made your morning a living hell. Then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, the man turns his head towards you, eyebrows cocking in recognition. His face morphs into what can only be described as a look of revulsion, eyes shooting daggers at you while his mouth pulls down in a frown of disgust. You flinch as if burned and look away quickly, remembering the sting of his earlier words.

Feelings of inadequacy rapidly resurfacing, you force yourself to blink back tears, grateful for when the orientation begins. The first presenter goes over the general purpose and expectation of your roles: walk predesignated routes around the property, meet and greet guests and tourists, pose for pictures, don’t break character, stay with your assigned group, use staff designated elevators and pathways to get back to staff only areas to keep up the “illusion” of your personas; it’s nothing Arishat hasn’t prepared you for.

What is unexpected is the aplomb with which the next speaker is introduced, “Even when he isn’t dressed like a Roman goliath, this is the man who keeps us all in line and all of Caesar’s Palace safe and for that we’ve always called him our General. Please welcome our fearless leader, Head of Security, General Marcus Acacius!!”

You roll your eyes upon seeing your parkade nemesis take the mic, annoyance grating in your chest until your heart drops into your stomach at a terrible realization. Marcus is the HEAD OF SECURITY. The very person whose radar you should definitely avoid lest he discover your falsified identity, is the very person you’ve managed to piss off and directly insult. Shit, shit, shit. If Marcus wanted, he could definitely get you, or rather Arishat, fired.

Panicking, you only half listen to Marcus’ remarks, barely registering the velvet honey of his baritone - commanding but so much more soothing than the indignant growl with which he addressed you earlier, “Members of my security team have been assigned to your groups to ensure that you all remain safe, that no guests or guest interactions cross any boundaries. We will be dressed as you see here, similar to those of you playing gladiators so that we blend in; one or more of us will always be with your group, don’t hesitate to come to us with any concerns. I myself will be walking all the routes and periodically checking in with each group. Please don’t be shy about bringing anything to my attention either. Thank you.”

After some applause, everyone gets up and starts filing towards the stage to get their group assignments. As you patiently wait your turn, trying to exude some of that extra confidence that your admittedly beautiful, embellished showgirl costume deserves, you resign yourself to a mature, unpleasant decision.

You’re going to apologize.

As much as it pains you to gratify yourself to this egotistical douche nozzle, you can’t risk messing up your best friend’s gig. Tracking Marcus with your eyes to gauge an appropriate time to approach, you’ve just step onto the raised platform when he happens to turn and look directly at you; seizing the opportunity, you step out of line and head towards him. To your complete mortification, the General immediately turns around and starts walking away. Dammit!

Quickening your steps, you attempt to catch up to his long strides that, if you were type to get paranoid about this sort of thing, you’d swear are speeding up at your approach. Practically breaking out in a jog, you call out as discreetly as you can, “Mr. Acacius! Wait, Mr. Acacius, I just want to – OOF!”

The titan halts and turns at the sound of your voice, but his unanticipated actions make him an immovable object to your unstoppable force as you crash with a thud into his towering mass. To make matters even worse, in an attempt to not topple over completely, you do a little side shuffle and inadvertently bring down the heel of your bedazzled shoe right onto Marcus’ sandalled foot.

“FUCK! OW – what the hell are you doing?!” the General roars and the entire room turns to stare at the commotion.

“Omigod, omigod, I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to! Are you hurt? Omigod, I’m so sorry!” you’re babbling, contrite and embarrassed; if you thought you were going to cry before, that was nothing compared to how you feel right now.

Marcus’ face is menacing, grimaced with pain, “OF COURSE it hurts! You stomped on my foot for god’s sake. How are never where you’re supposed to be? Get back in line and get your assignment like everyone else!”

Thoroughly humiliated and afraid of doing any more damage, you back away without another word, scurrying to the assignment line while trying to make yourself as small as you feel. Afraid to look back, you miss the hard lines of the General’s face softening, looking like he might want to call after you before thinking the better of it and hobbling away.

---

Thankfully, the rest of your day passes uneventfully. The work is relatively straightforward, though tiring. As promised, the artisanal craftsmanship of your costume is a marvel, gorgeous but laden down with beads, gems, and pearls - it’s heavy. The matching heels, also stunning, start to pinch, dig, rub in all the usual places after hours upon hours of non-stop standing and walking. Unable to feel completely confident walking around in public in such state of dress, or undress rather, you happily let the other girls in your group shine, preferring to hang back and draw less attention to yourself. Unused to feeling so exposed or needing to be “on” for such a long stretch of time, your social battery and energy levels drop gradually over the course of the day.

To your relief, you hardly see Marcus, though as promised, he does check in with your group periodically. While you do try to stay out of his way, you can’t help but notice two things. The first is that he’s highly respected and obviously very good at his job; more than once you witness his team and other resort staff acknowledging and deferring to his authority and the quiet command of his expertise. He never barks orders or yell at anyone (just you, it seems), relying instead on confidence and a calm gravitas to charge his directives and fully control any situation. If you’re being honest, not only is it impressive, it makes you feel safe being under Marcus’ care.

The second thing you notice is that he’s limping.

You don’t dare attempt a second apology, though you doubt you’d be successful even if you were to try - the General appears to be taking great lengths to ignore you. He asks after every person in your contingent and acknowledges everyone personally except for you, going so far as to avoid all eye contact and even averting his gaze when he addresses the group as a whole. You suppose you can hardly blame him, but as the day goes on, it becomes harder and harder for your feelings not to be hurt by someone deliberately acting like you don’t exist; after an entire day of this exclusionary treatment, your irritation for the man reignites.

By the time you get back to your car, thankful for the end of your shift and the comfy sweats you’ve changed into, your feelings for Marcus Acacius have reverted to what they were when you were standing in this exact spot earlier this morning. You grab a pen and a pad of post-its from your purse; scribbling “RESERVED for THE GENERAL” in big letters, you slap the bright pink paper on the wall behind your car, glad that you’ll never have to see that egotistical perfect head of hair again.

Earlier Today

Damn you, Janet Jackson. You silently curse the five-time Grammy winner as you drive towards the Caesar’s Palace employee parking lot, finding it with more ease than you did yesterday.

Last night, bone-tired and mentally exhausted, you had come home to a giddy and nervous Arishat grinning like a cat who just ate the canary, chirping, “How did it go?!!!”

You had told a white lie and said it was fine. For all intents and purposes, it had gone fine. You chose to omit the details of how you managed to make a mortal enemy of Caesar’s Palace’s Bonehead of Security, figuring it wasn’t worth worrying her. Besides, what would it matter? Your roommate would take her rightful place in the Golden Days line up the next day and Marcus, esteemed General, would be none the wiser – likely even smug in the certainty that he had run you off, when in fact, you would be curled up on your couch with a book freshly plucked from your TBR. Win-win-win, right?

Wrong.

“Oh goodie!! Because… I need you to pretend to me again tomorrow?” Arishat worked her pleading eyes while telling you the exceedingly good news that she had secured a callback audition… for the next day. It was just one more day, you could do Golden Days for her for just one more day, right?

Of course, you had agreed – if the Rhythm Nation was calling, who were you to stand in your best friend’s way? Showering you with gratitude and massaging your tired feet while ordering your favourite Thai takeout, Arishat regaled you with the high points of her day: how iconic Miss Jackson herself was, which classic Janet jams were on the set list, the grandiosity of the show and of course… the cute boy she met who worked on production sets at Resort World. You rolled your eyes teasingly, happy for her.

That happiness has brought you here now, slowly rolling past your parking spot from yesterday, already occupied by what you recognize is Marcus’ car; you spot your bright pink post-it displayed prominently on his dash– guess he saw it.

Knowing that Marcus is already here rattles you more than you’d like, but your friends from yesterday soon help you shake off any nerves with their hype and excitement for the day. You head toward today’s briefing room with your group in good spirits, ready to jump start your energy levels with donuts and coffee from the complimentary snack table supplied by the hotel.

Though the donut selection looks to be fairly picked over by the time you get to the table, you do spot a lone crueller sitting on a tray in the middle of the spread. Hand outstretched, you’re just about to select your favourite donut when a beefy, gold bangle decorated arm darts in front of yours and snatches it. Taken aback, you chuckle, ready to jokingly (but not really?) fight this donut stealer, when your mood sours upon seeing who it is.

“You.”

Of course it’s Marcus. This man must have a sixth sense for ways to ruin your mornings.

When he turns to face you fully, you realize why you didn’t recognize him earlier - he’s not wearing the same dark leather gladiator armour from the previous day, but a crisp, white ceremonial ensemble that could be considered the day to yesterday’s night. Whereas the imposing burnt umber battlements he wore yesterday conjured images of battle charges and military campaigns, Marcus’ soft white costume today is more suited for ceremony and celebration. It’s gorgeously tailored, trimmed with gold tassels and embroidered laurels; adorning the chest plate are twin facing golden griffins signaling majesty and the splendor of victory – a sharp contrast to the attacking Medusa decorating the same torso yesterday. Draping the General’s shoulders is a heavy cape of the same material and embellishment, broadening his already hulking frame even more.

He looks stunning. And he’s still holding the last sugary glazed crueller between his thick fingers. You’re not sure which makes you lick your lips.

“Is there something you need?” the question is asked in confusion, as if the man simply cannot fathom why you’ve invaded his space yet again, snapping you back to the moment.

“That was my donut,” you deadpan, pride having given up wasting manners on a man who apparently deigns it unnecessary to show you any of his.

“There wasn’t a sign saying it’s reserved,” Marcus mockingly parrots back your words from yesterday about his parking space. Perhaps if you weren’t already seething from his previous treatment, you might spot the mischievous dance of his eyes and the slightly playful curve of his smirk, but all you see is a man who has antagonized you at every given opportunity choosing to be antagonistic yet again. Ass!

“Have it, General,” you snip back, abandoning your empty plate and stomping off towards the coffee. Finding the pots empty, you grab a package of fresh grounds and are just looking for a new filter when you see the swish of someone’s grand skirts in your peripheral before a mitt of a hand opens the top of the machine right in front of you.

“Here, let me g-”

Exasperated that you somehow cannot escape this man, you snap, harsher and louder than you mean to, “I might not know much, but I know how to make a new pot of coffee. So kindly, back off.”

A few heads turn towards your confrontation, further heightening your agitation; to his credit, Marcus takes the hint – holding his hands up in surrender, he tilts his head and purses his lips in bemusement before shrugging and backing away.

Finally, you huff. Still breathing heavily and heart pounding, you make coffee, trying to take your mind off of your latest altercation with the most infuriating man you’ve ever met.

Little did you know that your morning was about to get worse.

Your feet, still sore from yesterday, protest right off the bat at being stuffed back into their bedazzled prison for another day. Almost immediately, you begin wincing with every step – how does Arishat wear these types of shoes all the time?! Hope she doesn’t mind you returning these filled with blood – yeesh.

For some reason, the route your group takes today crosses the path of every lecherous creep that’s visiting Vegas this week. Old men and frat boys alike interpret the “op” in photo-op as an opportunity for their unwanted hands to wander; you and your fellow showgirls peel sweaty palm after sweaty palm that linger too long off your bodies, swatting away too bold hands that treat the beaded embroidery of your costumes like some type of sensory play. Your security team, and even the entertainers posing as gladiators, have to step in repeatedly to reprimand guests for their inappropriate behaviour. On two occasions, you would not have been surprised if fisticuffs had broken out.

Halfway through the morning, you were ready to quit both for yourself and Arishat. The only thing stopping you is the seriousness with which your security team is taking these transgressions; they consult you and the other girls on adjustments they’ll need to make in their approach to your safety and share the suggestions they’ll be bringing to General Acacius. Despite your dislike for the man, you trust that he will take swift action.

The real icing on this cake of a day, however, comes just before lunch.

Leaving the Venus Pool & Lounge, your group is on its way back through the Palace Tower when you hear a sharp snap right before a pop of air rushes down your backside. To your horror, the front of your costume, heavy with its intricately woven gemstones and garlands of threaded pearls, starts to slip downwards; a quick check by your friends confirms your fear that the clasp on the back of the garment has broken, and the only thing holding the bedazzled fabric to your body is your hands. With rising panic, you scrunch the fabric to your chest and hastily part from your team, desperately hoping you can make it back to the change room before inadvertently living out the cliché nightmare of being naked at work.

Present – Elevator ride

Still anxiously clutching your costume to your chest, you look anywhere but at Marcus - silently willing the elevator cab to speed up its infuriating slow descent; you’re convinced that every second that ticks by brings you closer to a humiliating loss in your battle against gravity.

If only there was muzak or something to distract you other than the grinding clicks of the elevator’s gear mechanisms percussing the steady breathing of a man that refuses to look at you. Oddly, you’re glad for his avoidance – you’re sure Marcus hasn’t noticed that you’re one hand slip from being half naked in front of him and the last thing you need is another scolding or scathing remark about how incompetent he finds you. Eyes darting over, you use the opportunity to study him without scrutiny.

It must be nice to have such a tailored to fit costume, you think, admiring. The white and gold costume looks made for the General, breastplate moulded to his thick trunk like plaster - how the hell is he so broad? Those shoulder tasseled sleeves and cape must have been custom measured – there’s no way that this man’s expansive wingspan is regular. The glorious drape of Marcus’ cape draws your eyes past the pleats of his victory skirt to his thick, muscular calves, practically exploding from his lace-up sandals. Sweet Moses.

It seems that no one told your libido that the rest of you abhors this man, because the weight of his practically oppressive stature in this confined space has you chewing your lower lip, struggling not to squirm in place. At least you’re not thinking about your broken costume anymore. There’s a good chance that you might have been caught mid-drool by the man himself if it wasn’t for a sudden loud screech of metal grinding against metal reverberating through the elevator. In shock at the piecing sound, you’re wholly unprepared when the lights start flashing and the carriage jerks violently to a stop.

Without warning, you’re thrown across the small metal box - Marcus, whose colossal mass has provided him more anchorage, reaches out to catch you before you crash unceremoniously into the mirrored wall. Your hands fly out to steady yourself on his firm shoulders, face pressed against the stability of his hard chest while your body instinctively folds into the safety of the General’s hold.

When the lights stop flickering and the elevator’s bounce has stilled, you search for Marcus’ eyes, finding them to be wide and full of concern.

“Are you okay?” the usually gruff baritone is warm but urgent.

Voice shaky and still in some shock, you blink and nod, “Yes. Thank you, Marc-”

You stop short when you hear the General’s sharp intake of air and see him quickly avert his eyes to look at the ceiling, “Um, your… uh, you seem to have… oh gosh… um…”

Confused by his sudden stuttering, you look down and with a gasp realize that when you reached out to grab onto Marcus for stability, you had let go of your costume – the embellished fabric has fallen and bunched up at your waist, leaving your top half completely exposed.

With a cry of mortification, you push off of Marcus, scrambling to pull up your costume and cover your naked chest. Marcus turns away to give you some privacy, then awkwardly spins when he realizes every inch of the elevator except for the doors is covered in mirrors; he finally settles busying himself with pressing various buttons on the panel. All the controls appear to be dead, including the call for help button.

Still not looking at you, the General mumbles somewhat helplessly, “Uh… the line is dead.”

This is too much.

You can’t help it - sinking down to the floor and crumpling as the stress of the day finally hits you, you start to softly cry. Your feet hurt. A bunch of neanderthals touched you today without consent. You’re not even supposed to be here, but you feel the stakes of doing a good job as much as if you were. You feel exposed and underdressed, and exhausted from being paraded into public as if you weren’t. You’re stuck in an elevator with a man who absolutely hates your guts. And you just flashed him.

It’s all just too much.

“Hey, hey now. Please don’t cry. Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, still unable to find your voice. Just my pride, you think.

“Is it because… I… hey, listen… I didn’t see anything, okay? You don’t have to cry about showing me… I didn’t see your… anything.”

Marcus crouches down and places his flexed, corded forearms on his knees, respectfully keeping his hands to himself but with his palms up in invitation. You look at him, eyes sad and expression dubious.

He sighs in admission, “Okay. I did see. But please don’t be embarrassed. I won’t commit anything I saw to memory, okay? Consider me having seen nothing.”

Marcus looks so timid, voice eager to reassure that you can’t help but crack a smile, “Are my tits really so forgettable?”

So relieved at this glimpse of your good humour, Marcus lets out booming laugh that shakes the entirety of his massive form before plopping himself down next to you on the elevator floor.

As the General settles in, you find yourself admiring his deep-set brown eyes - you’ve never seen them flecked with gold and crinkled in mirth like this, the sight causes a surge of affection in your heart and your shoulders untense at the feeling.

While he doesn’t answer your question, Marcus tries to offer some reassurance, “Even if we can’t call out, I assure you my team in the control room knows where we are and are already working on the issue. I’m sure the elevator will be fixed or help will be on the way shortly – you don’t have anything to worry about.”

You believe him. Even if the two of you have a primarily contentious relationship, you can’t deny that Marcus is immensely competent – he keeps eyes on and hands in everything at Caesar’s, you’ve seen him take prodigious care of even the smallest details when it came to the security and operations of the resort. If he tells you there isn’t anything to worry about, you trust that to be the case.

Nodding, you try to convey that you’re taking solace in his words, but you’re still holding yourself very small, clutching your costume as tightly to chest as you can. Marcus remains concerned, “Are you claustrophobic?”

You shake your head.

“Are you uncomfortable? Or… am I making you uncomfortable?”

Marcus looks so thoroughly ashamed, you attempt to lighten the mood with a little lighthearted self-deprecation, “Well aside from the anxiety of breaking the back clasp on my costume, I’m as comfortable as I could be having gotten half naked in front of a man who hates me.”

“I don’t hate you,” the General sounds surprised, but his statement is said with certainty.

“But,” you struggle to articulate that despite the way you may have spoken to him in the past, the comment wasn’t meant as an admonishment but known fact, “I took your parking spot. And I broke your foot.”

“Those were accidents.”

“You… yelled at me. Said I didn’t know anything. Made sure I knew you didn’t want me around you. You said I didn’t know my place,” despite the recollection of those incidents no longer bringing you the same amount of anguish as they did yesterday, you still hang your head sadly.

You hear a slight shuffling as the General scoots a little closer to you. Through the lashes of your downcast gaze, you see Marcus lift a hand, retract it hesitatingly before ultimately making up his mind to reach for you. A rough thumb and finger gently pinch your chin and direct your face upwards.

In a tone softer than you would have thought possible, Marcus atones, “The way I treated you yesterday, the things that I said… they were unkind, unwarranted, and completely unforgivable. I truly apologize.”

You cannot help but be touched by the sincerity you see etched all over his handsome face, the General’s soulful eyes pool with regret, shame, self admonishment. Having already been disarmed by the gentleness of his tenor and the tenderness with which he’s hovering over you, you melt further at Marcus’ obvious guilt and the earnestness of his confession; besides, you’ve never been one to kick a gorgeous man when he’s down, “I suppose neither of us have been at our best.”

“Perhaps not, but I was arguably worse, and while you didn’t say or do anything to me that I didn’t deserve, I can’t say the same for my treatment of you,” Marcus hangs his head, recalling again his harsh words and ungentlemanly behaviour, “Let me make it up to you, Little Showgirl.”

The seemingly out of nowhere pet name catches you completely off guard and your eyes shoot up to meet the General’s, for the second time in a minute you find yourself surprised by their expression – the large, imposing figure who you felt had personally terrorized you for the past two days looks almost… shy. Any remaining animosity you might have harboured, already fleeting from your rapidly warming feelings, evaporates at the look he’s giving you, “What did you have in mind, General?”

At your words, a heart stopping smile breaks out across Marcus’ face, stealing your breath – the weary lines of his face lift, crinkling near his eyes and around his mouth (is that a dimple you see?), softening and relaxing into that of a man ten years younger at least. Holding out his hand, Marcus offers, “I could mend your costume for you?”

Whatever you imagined he might say, it certainly wasn’t this; the idea is so sweet and considerate, helpful and… adorable. Now the one feeling shy, you sit silently on your knees and hand over the complimentary hotel sewing kit.

Marcus coughs as he starts to unravel the thread options, “Um, why don’t you turn around so I’m facing what needs to be sewn, and… I guess… adjust so that everything is where… I mean, the costume is how you want it to be? And then I’ll sew the back together so it stays that way?”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the General’s comprehensive assessment and swift decision-making skills in even the most obscure of circumstances. Shuffling to get into the suggested position, you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together at how good it feels to let Marcus take charge of you.

After adjusting your costume to where you want it, you sit patiently and watch in the mirror as Marcus threads the needle, squinting and focusing so hard his tongue pokes out the side his mouth.

He catches you watching in the mirror and gives you an apologetic look, “Don’t have my reading glasses on me.” Goddamit, the man is even more precious than he was previously infuriating.

“Do you want me to tie the knot?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Marcus sheepishly relents, “here, let me put it directly in your hand so you don’t drop your costume… again.”

You might have retorted something cheeky if it wasn’t for the warmth of the General’s chest enveloping your back and his muscular arms encircling your body to hand you the needle; he’s so close that his breath dances lightly at the nape of your neck, causing the hair there to stand up - your body gives a little shiver. If Marcus notices, he doesn’t let on, instead holding his posture steady and protective while you expertly tie the double knot needed at the end of the thread. When it’s ready, you hold it out for the General to pluck from your waiting hand; afterwards, you look down to adjust yourself again, unaware of Marcus’ covetous gaze as he watches you in the mirror.

Once you’re satisfied, he pulls the fabric taut across your back and gets to work.

For a few minutes, Marcus works in silence; unwilling to disturb his focus, you stay as still as possible and amuse yourself watching this big, strong hulk of a man and his dainty sewing, his eyes soulful and lower lip being bitten in deep concentration for this nimble task.

Once satisfied with the foundation stitches he’s sewn, Marcus’ grip on your costume slackens, as does his tongue - somberly, Marcus speaks, “I’m very sorry again, Little Showgirl. I know it’s no excuse for my behaviour, but I was having a bad morning when we met – through no fault of yours. My building was having maintenance issues, so my alarm clock got reset and I woke up late. Then there was no hot water and, if you can believe it or not, this is not the first elevator I’ve been stuck in in the last 48 hours.” He heaves a deep sigh and your eyes soften with sympathy, “That’s all to say I was already running ridiculously late when I drove up behind you and I forgot my manners in my frustration and anxiety. The truth is, I’ve spent the better part of the past few months dreading Golden Days.”

You tilt your head in understanding, “I’m sure it’s a lot of extra work for you and your team. I can only imagine all the extra pressure you’re under.”

Marcus’ eyes find yours in the mirror and relaxes at their sincerity, “It is a lot. There are a ton of additional logistical factors to consider, and every variable brings with it security risks that I’m responsible for assessing and planning for.” He drops his eyes back down to his task, hiding in anticipation of his next confession, “But all of that comes with the job, nothing my team and I haven’t handled before. What I really wasn’t looking forward to is… wearing this stupid costume.”

Your eyes widen at this unexpected revelation: Big Bad General, venerated and trusted by the entire resort to keep the ship right, flustered at having to wear a costume? One that makes him look like an ancient god?

“I know it’s the antithesis of where I work, but I’ve never felt comfortable with all the glitz and pomp of the Strip. I love my job precisely because it’s behind the scenes, things run smoothest when me and my team escape detection. Now, for two weeks, we’re being paraded around in the most ostentatious costumes I’ve ever laid eyes on – I can’t tell you how off-putting it feels to be nervous about coming into work, to do a job I’ve had for years, that I excel at. All because I know I’m going to look dumb as hell doing it. Just one more thing I unfairly took out on you, Little Showgirl. I’m sorry.”

If only Marcus knew just how much you relate to feeling out of place in these costumes, “Oh Marcus, that’s all completely understandable. I’m sure I did absolutely nothing to abate your anxiety or frustrations with my own behaviour.” Marcus opens his mouth to interrupt but you shake your head slightly and continue, “I know you’re going to say it wasn’t my fault, and while that might be technically true, I can’t help but feel terrible for making your day worse than it already was. I’m sorry as well. I hope you can forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Little Showgirl.”

The two of you lock eyes and fix a look of mutual fondness upon one another in the mirror before you each look away, bashful. Now that you’re no longer worried that Marcus harbours ill will towards you, you can’t help but be a little playful with the decidedly serious General – certain that beneath his gruff exterior is a kind natured and good-humoured man, “So you don’t hate me, but you were going to close the elevators door on me?”

“I was pressing the Open Door button!”

You giggle at the indignation in the General’s response and press on, “What about avoiding me all day yesterday? Even when you’d check in on our group, you never spoke to me or asked how I was doing, even though you would ask everyone else? And when you did acknowledge me, even in the assignment room, you looked at me like I infuriated you. Or disgusted you? Or both? I know I’m not the most glamourous girl working Golden Days, but did you just find me… unacceptable?” You try to keep your tone playful, but now that you’ve given voice to the words, you realize there’s still a small part of you that’s stung by the memory of Marcus’ treatment.

He must sense your trepidation, because you see his broad shoulders slacken in the mirror, regret once again lining his face, “Oh shit. I didn’t realize that you’d- Fuck. I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings, Little Showgirl. The truth is, I couldn’t look at you without feeling utterly ashamed at how I had spoken to and treated you earlier. If you read my expression as being Infuriated and disgusted – you were right, but not at you, with myself. I hope the way I’ve purported myself in the last twenty minutes or so has shown you that I’m not some pompous asshole who enjoys tearing people down; my behaviour towards you yesterday is the opposite to how I strive to conduct myself. Seeing you reminded me of how abhorrent I was. I never considered that my own self contempt could be taken in the way you described but that’s one more thing I must atone for. I’m sorry again.”

Marcus’ apology is more heartfelt and self effacing that you would have thought possible from a man you were convinced was a self-important righteous jerkoff less than an hour ago. Thoroughly disarmed by the way he appears contrite and genuinely remorseful, your heart reaches for the man, wishing to soothe his apparent distress.

Before you can think of something comforting to say, Marcus continues, “I apologize again if my behaviour ever made you feel otherwise, because you should know that you look beautiful. I’ve thought so from the moment I first laid eyes on you - you’re the prettiest little showgirl I’ve ever seen.”

Still unable to put together the words, your cheeks warm and you blink appreciatively at the compliment. Marcus receives your reaction with a boyish eagerness, hoping it conveys your forgiveness; giving you another small smile in the mirror, he returns to his sewing.

For a few minutes, you let Marcus work in silence as you contemplate him. By now, you’re prepared to admit that you had previously judged the stunning man behind you too harshly; despite his confident and commanding presence, you’ve seen now that he’s hard on himself and not immune to insecurity – perhaps you can help remedy that a tad with a confession of your own.

“Marcus?”

The General acknowledges you with a hum even as his eyes remained focused on the work.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the Roman gladiator armour looks dumb. I think you look really good in it.”

This catches Marcus’ attention and he looks up, “You really think so?”

“Um, yeah,” you say, suddenly shy, “It makes you look really… formidable and authoritative – not that you need any help in those areas, but the costume really amplifies your qualities. The battle arena one you wore yesterday? You looked like a brickhouse. I think every gladiator who’s working Golden Days wished they looked half as good as you did.” You’re trying to pick your words carefully so not to objectify the poor man, but you really want Marcus to understand that the idea he might not look good in this regalia is outrageous, “And this ceremonial one you have on today… it’s, excuse my language, fucking glorious. You look regal, impressive and… so big. Honestly, you look hot in it, General.”

Vulnerable soft eyes meet yours in the mirror, holding your gaze as if to ascertain whether or not you’re being serious; you give Marcus your most sincere look and earnestly nod as if to say, Yes, you are hot, and he responds with a nearly inaudible whisper, “Thank you.”

Suddenly a sharp, searing pain pierces your back and you yelp in pain. Marcus starts at your cry and upon seeing the agony on your face, looks down to find that he’s poked you with the sewing needle and withdraws it quickly, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Frantically dropping the needle, Marcus gently rubs his large, rough hand over the pinprick wound, “Does it still hurt? I’m so sorry, Little Showgirl.”

The pain having now subsided and further soothed by Marcus’ warm touch, you nod reassuringly, “It doesn’t hurt – I’m okay. Just surprised me is all. But we’re even now for your foot, right?”

Marcus looks up to see your cheeky grin - entire countenance relaxing, he chuckles, “Yes, we’re even now.” He goes back to sewing.

Pleased as punch with your own merrymaking, you go back to eyeing the man still working diligently to help you fix your wardrobe malfunction. With growing affection and, if you’re honest with yourself, attraction, you wonder again at how you could have pegged him for a self-centred jackass. Though the air of his importance and authority remains, you know now just how earned and well deserved it is. Far from being arrogant and pompous, Marcus is self aware, sensitive and not at all conceited – qualities that have raised him high in your esteem over the last half hour or so.

It's evident what a hard worker he is – his drive and competency, fuel for the already sparking fire low in your belly. Your heart swells thinking of the immense pressure he puts upon himself to uphold what he considers to be honour, decorum – you wish you could take some of it off those broad, generous shoulders of his. How would his near mythical wingspan look looming over you on your knees, ready and willing to give him some well-deserved respite from the weight of his duty by taking his monster co-

“All done,” Marcus announces, biting the thread before standing up to offer you a hand. As the General gently hauls you to your feet, your other hand flies up to your chest, expecting the fabric to fall away from your body – but to your delight, it doesn’t move. Lowering your hands tentatively, you feel the fit of the garment around your bust, waist and then hips – it appears secure, you beam, “This is perfect – thank you so much, Marcus.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ll think it’s perfect when you see the sewing job, but it should hold and get you through to the end of the shift.” Chuckling to himself, he watches fondly as you do a little test shimmy, beads and pearls jingling and dancing over your curves. Smoothing down the embellishments so that they still, you feel Marcus’ gaze and cross your arms over your body for a bit more coverage, embarrassed at the impropriety of your earlier thoughts.

Misreading your discomfort, Marcus offers gently, “I mean it, you know? You look gorgeous. Beautiful.” He fiddles with decorative enamel broach that holds his white cape at his collar bone, unclasping and removing it in one gallant sweep. “However, if it makes you feel more comfortable,” he carefully drapes the luxurious fabric around your shoulders, wrapping you in it completely, “you can wear this.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” fully cloaked and cozy, you soak in the sweet gesture and Marcus’ compliment, breathing in the linger of his heady cologne on the garment.

The two of you stand looking at one another in silence - the warmth of the moment, full of fondness and affection, filling the small elevator. If someone had told you this morning that you would feel a deep appreciation and attraction to this man you had sworn to loathed, you would have said they were delusional. But now, you can’t even remember what you felt before, never mind why.

You want to repent and laugh, apologize some more – though you know he would never allow it. Shifting shyly foot-to-foot, thinking of what you want to say, you suddenly feel the pinch of your shoes again, “Do you mind if I sit? These shoes look great but they’re killing my feet. I should probably stay off of them for as long as I can before I have to go out again.”

Marcus joins you once again on the floor of the elevator, amused at the exaggerated sigh of relief you exhale as you start arching your feet and wiggling you toes after you remove the glamourous but offensive footwear.

“May I?” he gestures at your pointing feet. At your little nod of permission, the General lays your aching feet in his lap and uses his big strong hands to massage and grip your arches. His strength targets all the right pressure points so that relief is immediate. You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes when he spreads his fingers around your heels and rubs tight little circles that nearly have you moaning, this is heaven.

“So,” Marcus gulps when he sees the pleasure overtaking your face, feeling himself harden beneath his battle skirts, “Aside from hurting feet, your costume breaking, and a horrid man terrorizing you, has the rest of your day gone alright?

Your eyes open to his affectionate grin, “Oh! It’s been okay.”

He wouldn’t be good at his job if he couldn’t read people and Marcus tilts his head curiously at your answer. Though you could downplay today’s events, the General makes you feel safe enough to not want to, “Well, we had some… trouble.”

“Tell me.”

Even if you didn’t understand that he genuinely wants to know, the authoritative tone of his voice compels you to obey. You think you would do anything that velvet baritone asked of you, and that thought alone sends a shooting pang straight to your clenching core. So, you tell Marcus everything about the harassment and unwanted physical contact that you and your group encountered today; as you see the General’s eyes darken at the details, you hurry your storytelling to make sure he doesn’t blame his men, “Your team did a great job taking care of us and have already been strategizing on how to prevent these situations going forward. They were great, really. You run a good group.”

Marcus smiles at your sweetness, “Thank you. I trust they did their best, and I’m certain they won’t be happy until we come up with new protocols to make things safer - everything will be discussed with the needed changes in place by tomorrow. I promise you won’t have to worry about the same type of things happening when you come in tomorrow, Little Showgirl.”

Warming again under Marcus’ term of endearment, you decide that you owe him the same level of honesty and sincerity that he’s shown you, “That’s reassuring, Marcus - thank you, but I’m not coming in tomorrow.”

“What? Why not? Did you quit because of me?”

You nearly laugh out loud at the panic in the General’s voice, though his crestfallen look and obvious disappointment make your stomach do an inadvertent flip, “No, no, Marcus, of course not.” The tank of a man before you practically deflates with relief – it’s endearing. Time to come clean. “Since you already hate me,” you tease, pausing only at Marcus’ grumbled interjection of I don’t hate you, “I suppose I might as well tell you the truth.”

Marcus cocks his eyebrow quizzically as you confess your true identity and the reason you’ve been pretending to be in the resort’s employ these past two days. Even as you finish with how your roommate will be done her callback by the end of day and that tomorrow, she would be here to take her rightful place for Golden Days, Marcus still hasn’t said a word.

Pulling your feet from Marcus’ soothing grip, you reposition yourself on your knees and shuffle over to the General, thigh to thigh, face to face, worried, “Have you changed your mind about hating me?”

Seeing that true concern laces your pretty face, Marcus gently takes one of your dainty hands in his and raises it to his lips; placing one soft kiss to your knuckles, he proclaims, “Never.”

You’re melting.

Confidence now partially restored by the tenderness of his gesture, you use the hold Marcus has on your hand to pull yourself closer, teasing glint in your eye, “So, now that I’ve confessed the truth to you, are Arishat and I in trouble?”

“Well, technically, you committed identity fraud,” Marcus starts, pretending to look serious for only a second before letting his expression transform into one of mischief, “But seeing how you didn’t have any nefarious intentions… I guess I can look the other way. Plus, you flashed me, so consider your penance paid.”

Your melodic laugh echoes off the walls of the elevator and Marcus’ heart swells at the loveliness of the sound. “Thank you. I appreciate your confidence that I’m not planning some kind of casino heist,” hand still holding his, you let your smile curve flirtatiously, “You really are very sweet, General.”

The mountainous man scoffs good-naturedly, “Don’t tell anyone, you’ll ruin my tough guy reputation.”

“It’ll be our little secret - just between us,” grinning, you peer at him coquettishly through your lashes, “Like what I look like underneath this costume.”

“Just between us,” Marcus swallows hard.

“Are you thinking about me half naked right now, General?”

“Yeah, I am,” he breathes, right before crashing his mouth to yours.

Oh. Marcus kisses like his professional moniker suggests: precise, unrepentant, powerful. You push back with the same assertiveness against his lips and tongue, tangling your breath with his, trading in his air. Without breaking the kiss, Marcus hooks his sculpted arm around your waist, cupping the plush of your ass in just one of his bear paws, he hauls you into his lap; you land with a giggly bounce, straddling one of the General’s thick thighs. Your hands reach up to cup Marcus’ face, scratching through his well-groomed scruff while you nip and nibble at his lower lip; your chest burst with a school girl giddiness when you feel him smile at your kitten attack.

Beneath the cover of his cape, Marcus’ rough hands roam your body, trailing his thick fingers up and down the curve of your spine, making you whimper at the reverence of his touch. Wide palms find the fat of your thighs and grip you with such want that you yelp and test the General’s hold with a roll against his leg that has him moaning your name down your throat. You think you could drown in the sounds of this man falling apart beneath you. Leaving his lips involuntarily, your body bows at the grip Marcus bruises on your body, whining as he kisses along your jaw, groaning, almost to himself, “So fucking soft.”

Hard hands travel to your waist with the discipline of a trained soldier, heavy palms working your soft flesh through your costume while a hungry mouth licks and snipes a path of pleasure from your ear down your neck that has you gasping and squirming.

“Marcus, please!” you cry out, voice hushed and desperate as the General’s hot breath rolls across the expanse of your throat. He smirks at your neediness, greedy hands massaging their way up to your tits.

“Gonna mark you up, so everyone knows you’re mine. If anyone tries to touch you again, they’ll have to answer to me,” Marcus growls against the sweet spot at the bottom of your neck, sending your head spinning with his possessive tone and the hard suck of his mouth.

With Marcus’ hands now cupping your breasts, your hips are free to rock and grind on the flex of his muscular thigh – through the layers of fabric, the texture from the beaded details of your costume heighten the sensation from your movements on your drooling cunt. You can feel just how wet you are by the slick glide of your folds in your panties as your costume catches roughly over Marcus’ leg.

Marcus’ mouth finds yours again, you kiss him back furiously – your tongue slides against his, eager to show him just how much you want him, need him. He licks into your mouth and you swallow his throaty groans, answering them with your own half formed moans that he steals right back.

“You make the prettiest noises, Little Showgirl,” he purrs, hands kneading and groping your heaving breasts over the front of your costume. You’re practically bucking now, about to beg again, for what you don’t even know when Marcus’ talented fingers zero in on your already pert and aching nipples, finding them with ease and giving each peak a punishing pinch and tug.

You quake and howl, the crisp sting sending a thrumming wave of ecstacy to every nerve ending in your body. Yanking harshly on Marcus’ soft waves, you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer still, melding your lips to his and sucking on his tongue while your hips gyrate and swivel, seeking more pressure and friction. Reading your cues perfectly, Marcus bends his knee slightly to give you more purchase and you lay a hot trail of open mouth kisses from the corner of his mouth along his chiseled jawline in gratitude.

“You’re killing me, baby.” Baby. The new pet name is exalted with a strained groan – what you would have interpreted as exasperation less than 24 hours ago is now delicious music to your ears, proof that you’re affecting the beast of a man beneath you as much as he is you. You chuckle breathy and satisfied into the shell of Marcus ear, “Payback.”

The General’s response to your smug retort is to bite down on your shoulder, just hard enough to jolt you hard against him, dragging your needy pussy down the length of his thigh. He smirks as he laves his tongue over the imprint of his teeth on your skin, soothing it while you whinny above him like feisty filly yearning to run free. Bear paw hands continue to grab and squeeze your tits, pushing and pulling all your supple curves so that they mould to his palms, fingers tuning your sensitive nipples to try to find his favourite song: the one you’re singing in gasps, the sole lyrics his name in repetition, Marcus, Marcus, Marcus.

“Wish I could just rip this costume off your pretty body and see those perfect tits of yours again. Sew it back up after I take those cute little nipples in my mouth and suck on them until you scream. Would you let me do all that, Little Showgirl?” The General nips and snarls behind your earlobe, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume that’s wafting as your lap dance picks up speed, intensity.

“Yes, Marcus, yes! I’d let you do anything to me.”

Oh, he likes that. Marcus drops a hand down to your ass and gives your bouncing cheek a sharp spank that sends you tumbling towards the edge of bliss, ��Anything?”

You can barely string together a thought separate from the pleasure Marcus is giving you with his hands, his thigh, his mouth, but you manage to eek out a weak, “Anything.”

“You going to let me help you come?”

Nearly crumpling at Marcus’ dark tone, your head flops forward in a semblance of a nod.

Marcus’ hands grasp onto the meat of your hips and restrict your rhythmic movements against his leg – you whine in protest.

“Need you to use your words, Little Showgirl.” There it is again: the authority and command of his velvet voice; your cunt clenches, infuriatingly empty. Panting and breath short, your eyes shine with desperation as your mouth slackens into a perfect prayerful O-shape that makes Marcus hiss, “Yes, please, Marcus! Please help me come!”

Though he loves the sound of your sweet voice begging, Marcus is already far enough gone for you that he knows he would never deny you anything. Fingertips digging into the globes of your ass, Marcus holds your hips firm and begins to saw you back and forth over his thigh, pressing you down while driving up his leg in order to ignite an electrifying connection with your cunt that you couldn’t have reached on your own.

Marcus handles you with the precision and skill with which he executes every assignment he undertakes; every pull and push builds you higher and higher, the breath stealing rhythm he keeps makes you gush - your pussy, slick with arousal sails smoothly over Marcus tensed muscles, throbbing as the familiar band in the pit of your stomach coils tighter.

He’s all power and strategy, reading the ecstasy that paints your face like a map and orchestrating a building pace and intensity in his handle on your body so that your orgasm becomes an inevitability. Euphoria blooming, you give yourself over to Marcus completely, trusting your pleasure in his capable hands.

“Oh, god, right there, General…”

“You can’t call me that, baby. Or the next time one of my men calls me General, I’m going think of you. Like this. Bouncing and grinding in my lap, looking so fucking pretty.”

“Ngh, fuck! General…”

“Baby, what did I just say.”

You moan and goad him more, “… Acacius…”

Sucking the delicate skin at the base of your neck in between his teeth, Marcus hisses.

“Sir,” you draw out the last sound, rolling it from the back of your throat like a filthy hymn.

“Shit. My naughty little showgirl, you’re perfect. Never going to let you go.” The General crashes his lips to yours once more, desperate, messy. Your hands reach for those broad shoulders again, holding on tight as you work in tandem with Marcu’s control of your body, finding that if you tilt your hips just so, the pressure of his thigh’s arch against the trimming of your costume catches your clit just right. You break the kiss with a cry, the explosive pulsing from your overstimulated pearl rocketing you towards your summit.

“I’m so close, Marcus,” you rasp, back arching and bucking wild as you chase your release. Awestruck by your desire wracked expression, Marcus pledges himself to your pleasure – rocking and guiding you to exactly where you need to be. Everything tightens as you ride, clit brushing and flicking over that secret spot of your costume over and over and over.

“Take what you need, Little Showgirl,” grits Marcus against the column of your throat. He nuzzles against every little hitch of your airway and sucks down the ambrosia taste of your skin, “Anything that’s mine to give is yours. Let me give you everything, my lady.”

You explode with a sharp wail of the General’s name, coming so hard that you see stars. Your orgasm rips through your body and it’s all you can do to hold onto Marcus, fingernails marking crescent moons into his shoulders through the luxurious fabric of his Roman costume. Marcus gladly takes over, holding you through your high, safe and comforting as he continues to move you gently back and forth over the breadth of his thigh, thumbs drawing soothing circles over your hips as your shaking subsides. You slump against his hard chest, completely fucked out.

Marcus’ hands caress your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a calming fashion to bring you back to yourself. Hooded eyes lifting just enough to meet his gaze – your stomach flutters upon finding the General’s expression to one of awe and care; you’re so grateful and sated, about to say so when suddenly the elevator shudders harshly, lights flickering as the machinery above whirls back to life and you resume your descent.

Eyes widening at the unexpected movement, the two of you scramble off one another and onto your feet, though Marcus, ever the gentleman, remains on his knees for a little while longer to help you slip your feet back into your shoes.

He comes to a stand by your side and pulls you close, tucking you under the safety of his wing. That feeling of gratitude for his care surges through you again as you snuggle in tight.

“You okay, Little Showgirl? Do you need a minute?”

You look up at Marcus to find his affection for you evident in the lines of his handsome face - it makes your heart skip a beat; you nod, eyes still glassy, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing faintly in your core. The strength of the General’s arm curves around your waist, tightening and helping you forward as the elevator doors finally open.

You’re immediately met by a member of Marcus’ security team - a strapping man in gladiator dress that you vaguely recognize from yesterday’s morning briefing.

“General, glad you’re okay, sir. I can give you a brief rundown on what’s happened.”

To your surprise, instead of letting you go so he can confer with his lieutenant, Marcus pulls you closer and tucks you under his chin, letting you rest against his chest. You close your eyes, comforted by the soothing rumble of Marcus’ baritone as it vibrates though his chest.

“Tell me.”

“There was a complete outage of service elevators in all the towers: Forum, Palace, Julius, Octavius, and Augustus – all simultaneous. Call lines dead, no camera footage. A little over half of the elevators were occupied when the disruption took place. They’ve all come back online since, successively – Palace is the last. You were stuck for 47 minutes.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“We’re still getting reports in but everyone accounted for is unharmed and doing alright. I’ve taken the liberty of assuming you would want to give everyone impacted an early lunch and asked them to come see the resort doctor in the employee briefing room.”

“Good work, Darius. Please ready a full debrief for me in the control room - I’ll be there momentarily.”

Even after Darius’ footsteps fade away, Marcus keeps you close and continues tending to you, dispensing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips. The two of you stay in a tender embrace until your heartbeat slows to normal and your breathing evens.

Kiss. “Little Showgirl.” Kiss. “I know this is terribly backwards.” Kiss Kiss. “But if you’re free after your shift tonight.” Kiss. “Could I take you out to dinner?” Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss Kiss.

“I would love that, Marcus.” Kiss.

Beaming, you step back and unclasp the brooch of the victory cape that you’re still wearing; unfurling it from your body, you giggle as Marcus bends at the knee so you can swing it over his shoulders. After refastening the pin, you pat and smooth down the luxurious fabric over the General’s broad frame, humming with satisfaction at how splendidly the breathtaking man wears it.

“Thank you, my lady,” Marcus proclaims, his good humour delighting you, “May I meet you here at six?”

Nodding, you place your palms gently on the golden griffins that span the front of Marcus’ Roman ceremonial dress, scratching your nails just deep enough so he can feel you on his chest, “Yes, please. Are you going to be wearing this?”

“I don’t know, are you going to be wearing this?” Marcus reaches out to run a finger lightly over a row of pearls that decorate your collar bone.

Supressing a shiver, you shoot back, “I could be? I don’t know what you did back there – I might not be able to take it off.”

Leaning in, Marcus lets his breath ghost over your ear as his whispers low, “I could help you take it off.”

Catching the dark and mischievous glint in the light of his eyes, you pretend to be scandalized, “General!” Smirking a little when you see Marcus inhale at your teasing use of his professional handle, you grab him by the fabric of his rich, sweeping cape and pull him back in, crushing your lips to his. Marcus’ tongue darts out to match you move for move, stroke for stroke, licking deep and chasing you to the furthest corners of your mouth. You let him catch you before withdrawing, leaving him chasing after your plush pout with a nibble and tug of his delectable lower lip. Giggling, you wink at the General’s puppy dog expression before turning on your heels to head off to the change room, putting a little extra sway in your hips as you saunter away, pearls and beads clinking a seductive melody that calls to Marcus like a siren.

Before he knows what’s come over him, his hand connects with the underside of your ass cheek, the consequence of his spank jiggling the plushness of your rear as you yelp in delight.

You keep on walking, throwing over your shoulder, “Hope you’re prepared to pay for that later, General.”

Chuckling, Marcus starts heading towards the security office, discreetly adjusting himself beneath the skirts of his Roman costume, knowing that you see him doing so by the crescendo of your sweet laughter, “I’m counting on it, Little Showgirl.”

NP Tagging a few people who encouraged me so kindly on my WIP Wednesdays for this fic - thank you bbs 😘: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @letsgobarbs @inept-the-magnificent @milla-frenchy

@sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused @evolnoomym @secretelephanttattoo @sunnytuliptime

@galway-girlatwork @itwasntimethatdidit40 @iamladyp @tuquoquebrute

#47minutesinheaven #marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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thinkinonsense · 7 months ago

Note

Having a fascination with Logan's hands. Particularly on you, or in you, being the subject of many fantasies. But, you're super shy about it, until Logan mentions that he can smell you, during one of your daydreams while you're staring at his hands.

—daydreams l.h.

at first, logan thought he was making things up. his mind playing tricks on him yet again. during meetings and missions, late at night alone, he heard this angelic little voice in his head. like a devil on his shoulder, you shared in detail how much you craved his touch. his hands were so big and strong, rough and veiny with thick fingers. you wanted them everywhere on you; from the tip of your tongue to the inside of your velvet walls.

logan thought he was going crazy until one day, the two of you are sitting across from each other during a meeting. unbeknownst to you, your powers were sending your personal thoughts about logan's hands and what you wish he would do with them into his head. you knew this was apart of your mutation but you've trained to control how you share your powers.

once the meeting was over and everyone filled out, logan followed you upstairs to your room, following the sweet scent of your arousal leaking out of those cute white panties.

"hey, logan." you smile at him once you noticed the shadow behind you. "do you need something?"

he watches your gaze fall down to his hands again. you weren't sure what kickstarted this fire in your tummy when you saw his hands flex and his veins pop out. maybe it was the danger they held. his claws always made you wet. watching them come out during missions always made your brain a little fuzzy. similarly to how your brain felt right now.

—wonder how they would fit inside of me? they're much larger than my fingers. bet he'd know exactly what to do with them. maybe he would put 'em in my mouth for a bit.

"hey, dollface." logan smirks, lifting up your chin to look him in the eye. "i think you're the one in need."

"w-what?" you blush, trying to look anywhere but logan's pretty face. "i don't need any..."

the words disappear into thin air as logan uses his thumb to play with your bottom lip. he can hear your heartbeat pick up as you try to keep yourself contained. your thoughts now filled with fear that logan's figured out your dirty little secret.

"hm, i think you do..." he taunts, getting even closer.

"logan, someone could walk by." you babble against his thumb with big dark doe eyes.

"that shouldn't bother you. probably already projected your thoughts to them too."

you couldn't have been more mortified. how could this happen? what did logan know? he watched with a smile as panic rushed over you, taking the opportunity to open your door and shove the two of you inside.

"wanna explain your daydreams to me, dollface?" he asks, towering over you intimidatingly.

"i'm s-sorry, logan." you pout pathetically. "didn't mean for you to hear me."

"aw, but i think you did."

logan's big frame covers yours entirely. his index and middle finger tap your lower lip until you let him in. the sound of spit and struggle fills the room as you suck on his thick fingers.

"that's it, sugar." he praises. "get 'em nice and wet for me."

the tips of his fingers hit the back of your throat in a way that makes your tummy warm. a groan falls from logan's lips when he looks down and sees you drip his wrist to keep him in the back of your throat until he pulls away. a thick string of saliva connects his fingers to your puffy lips.

the two of you walk towards the bed, where you straddle his waist, messily making out full of desire and neediness. teeth clashing as logan rips your underwear off from under your skirt. you gasp against his lips, making him smirk.

"she's just leakin' for me, babydoll." logan groans finally feeling you the way you've been craving. his fingers slide through your slick causing little moans to leave your lips.

"please, don't tease me lo.." you whine, feeling him circle your entrance, barely pushing in. greedily you clench down on the tips of his fingers.

"shh.." he coos. "she's tryin' to talk to me."

gently, he pushes his fingers into you. a loud squelch fills the room, like music to logan's ears. your nails dig into his shoulders as his fingers hit that gummy spot inside of you. a small cry falls from your lips as logan starts to bounce you softly with his other hand on your waist.

"c'mon, sweetheart..." he teases. "ride my hand like you showed me in your daydreams."

that was more than enough motivation for you to grind down on him until you've set a steady rhythm. logan leaves a trail of hickeys on your neck and down your chest, along your breasts.

"s-shit!" you moan, throwing your head back in euphoria. " 'm close."

in the blink of an eye, logan rolls the two of you over with ease. once your back made contact with the mattress, he starts drilling his fingers into you with passion, needing to get you to your high. logan keeps you legs as far apart as possible and a hand firmly on your hips, holding you down as you cry in pleasure.

"lo!" you gasp, feeling a knot form in your tummy. "p-please."

"atta girl." he smirks, placing a soft kiss to your hip bone and his thumb on your button, circling quickly.

unbeknownst to you, logan was grinding into the mattress for some sort of release. too caught up in the image of you soaking his hand. your nails claw at his wrist as the tightness inside of you finally snapped.

"that's it, good girl." logan marveled, watching your face scrunch up.

once you've come back down from your high, you don't hesitate to reach for logan's slick drenched hand and putting his fingers into your mouth. swirling around the digits in a way that made logan grow impossibly harder.

"f-fuck, you can't do shit like that to me, dollface." he groans, watching you release them with a small pop.

"love these hands." you babble, still slightly fucked out.

"if you love these hands, you'll love what else i have in store for you."

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moonxknightx · 8 months ago

Text

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : LITTLE MUTANT: :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are spending a peaceful afternoon with your four-year-old son, Tommy. While playing, you notice his toy plane suddenly floating in the air, revealing the first signs of his mutant abilities. Startled, you call Logan, who rushes back home. Together, you both watch as Tommy uses telekinesis to stack his building blocks, completely unaware of the gravity of what he's doing. Logan reassures you that, just like him, Tommy will learn to control his powers, and you both find comfort in knowing you'll handle it as a family.

Based on this request.

IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT THE HOWLETT HOUSEHOLD, the kind of peaceful day that felt like a rare gem. Birds chirped outside the open window, sunlight streamed into the living room, and the air smelled of fresh laundry. The idyllic scene was only made more perfect by the sight of you and your four-year-old son, Tommy, curled up on the sofa together.

Tommy sat in your lap, giggling as you tickled his belly, his small fingers clutching a toy airplane. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes, the ones he’d inherited from his father, Logan. That same scruffy intensity, but softened by the innocence of a child.

"Mommy, fly!" Tommy exclaimed, holding the plane above his head and wiggling it through the air. "Look! I'm a pilot!"

"You sure are, sweetie," you said, grinning. "You're the best pilot I've ever seen. Where are you flying today, Captain Tommy?"

He squinted, thinking seriously about it for a moment. "To the moon! And then... and then to the jungle to find the lions!" His arms wobbled as he made dramatic sound effects, roaring for the lions.

"The moon and the jungle? Busy day!" You played along, tousling his messy hair. He was so full of energy and imagination that it felt like every day with him was an adventure.

Just as you leaned down to kiss his forehead, you noticed something odd. The plane in his hand seemed to... well, it seemed to be shaking.

No, not shaking. Floating. It was barely perceptible, but it was definitely hovering, just a few inches above his hand.

You blinked, rubbing your eyes, thinking maybe you were just tired. Four years of motherhood didn’t exactly do wonders for your sleep schedule. But when you looked again, the plane was still floating, a soft blue glow surrounding it like it was suspended by some invisible force.

"Uh, Tommy?" you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "How are you doing that, honey?"

Tommy, completely oblivious to the phenomenon, just giggled and shook the plane in the air again. "Doing what, Mommy?"

You felt your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. Logan was going to want to see this.

You carefully placed Tommy on the sofa and reached for your phone. Logan had gone out for one of his "I need some space to clear my head" walks in the woods behind the house, but it looked like he was about to get pulled back into dad duty.

You quickly dialed his number. It only took one ring before his gravelly voice answered, laced with that familiar grumpiness.

“Yeah honey?”

“Logan, you need to get back here. Now.”

There was a brief pause. “Why? What’s wrong? Is Tommy okay?”

“He’s... fine. Sort of. Just... hurry. I think something’s happening.”

“Be there in five.” You heard the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of him running before he hung up. Classic Logan. Always ready to bolt into action the second his family needed him.

You turned back to Tommy, who had abandoned his floating toy plane in favor of drawing on the wall with a crayon. Normally, that would’ve driven you crazy, but given the circumstances, a little crayon art felt like the least of your worries.

True to his word, Logan burst through the front door exactly five minutes later, his rugged frame filling the entryway. His flannel shirt was half unbuttoned, exposing his muscular chest, and his hair was as wild as ever. He looked like he’d sprinted the entire way back.

“Okay,” he grumbled, striding into the living room. “What’s going on?”

You pointed toward Tommy, who was now sitting on the floor, happily stacking his building blocks... without touching them. The blocks were arranging themselves in mid-air, each one glowing faintly, as if magnetically drawn into place.

“Logan...” you whispered, your eyes wide. “Our son is a mutant.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as he knelt down to Tommy’s level, watching intently. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just observing the floating blocks. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “He’s got it.”

You knelt beside Logan, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think... do you think he knows what he’s doing?”

Tommy, blissfully unaware of the significance of his new abilities, just grinned up at the both of you. "Daddy, look! I'm a magician!"

Logan’s gruff expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, buddy. Looks like you are.”

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of Logan’s body next to yours as you whispered, “What do we do?”

Logan huffed a small laugh and shrugged, his usual stoicism breaking just a little. “Hell if I know. You think there’s a manual for this? He’s a kid. He’s got a mutation. We’ll figure it out.”

“But... what if he can’t control it? What if it gets worse?”

Logan glanced at you, his expression serious now, but not without comfort. “He’s our kid. We’re not gonna let him go through this alone. We’ll teach him, just like I was taught.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your chest ease slightly. If anyone could handle this, it was Logan. He’d been through enough in his own life to know what it was like to have powers he couldn’t control. And now, with Tommy showing signs of being a mutant, it felt like you were entering uncharted territory as parents.

Tommy, meanwhile, was completely absorbed in his floating blocks, giggling as they danced in the air. “Look, Mommy! I’m making a tower!”

“That’s... a very nice tower, sweetie,” you said, forcing a smile as you watched the blocks stack themselves higher and higher.

Logan chuckled softly and ruffled Tommy’s hair, his gruff exterior melting just a little more. “Hey, kiddo, maybe we should keep the floating stuff between us for now, huh? Don’t want to freak out the other kids at daycare.”

Tommy looked up at Logan with wide eyes, as if he was processing the most important secret of his life. He nodded seriously. “Okay, Daddy. I won’t tell. It’s our secret.”

Logan shot you a look, raising his eyebrow as if to say, *See? Easy.* You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully.

“So, what now, oh wise and experienced mutant dad?” you teased, leaning your head against Logan’s shoulder.

He smirked, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Now? We teach him how to use those powers right. And maybe... we start bolting down the furniture.”

You laughed, feeling the tension finally break as Logan kissed the top of your head. It wasn’t exactly the parenting journey you’d imagined, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could handle anything. Even a four-year-old with telekinesis.

Tommy, now bored of his floating tower, climbed into Logan’s lap, resting his head on his father’s chest. “Daddy, can we play with the lions tomorrow?”

Logan smiled softly, stroking Tommy’s hair. “Yeah, buddy. We’ll play with the lions. But remember... no floating lions.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Tommy murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as he dozed off.

As you watched your little boy fall asleep in Logan’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for both of them. Your life might not have been normal by any stretch, but it was yours. And honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Guess we’ve got our hands full,” you whispered, resting your hand on Tommy’s small back.

Logan glanced down at you, that familiar glint of affection in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”

And as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over your family, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe parenting a little mutant wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyyy @lanabobana @corvusmorte @seamlessepiphany

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fluff #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett imagine

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pedroscowgirl · 3 months ago

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Under surveillance

Derek Morgan x fem!reader ft. Aaron hotchner

MASTERLIST Warnings!: smut so minors DO NOT interact Unprotected p in v (wrap it up), Voyeurism (?) Degradation, Spanking, power dynamics, Aaron is cucking, creampie lmk if i forgot something! wc: 0.7k (it's a short one sorry) Summary: Fucking Derek in the interrogation room and aaron is watching

A/n: A quick drabble while i break my brain over my professor lupin fic. I hope you like it and i have some ideas for maybe a second part but idkk. I'll see how this one goes :')

The walls of the FBI interrogation room were cold. The dim fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting shadows across the room. The metal table had been shoved aside, chairs abandoned—because they weren’t needed for what was happening now.

Morgan had you pressed up against the two-way mirror, your palms splayed against the cool glass, your breath fogging up the surface with every exhale. His broad frame was firm against your back, his strong hands gripping your hips as he moved against you, controlling you completely.

“You sure about this, baby?” Morgan murmured against your ear, voice dark and teasing, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, gripping the glass tighter, your body thrumming with anticipation. “Yeah,” you whispered, barely able to get the word out. “I want it.”

Morgan smirked, dragging his lips along the curve of your neck. “That’s my girl.”

What you didn’t know and what Morgan absolutely did, was that Hotch was watching.

Had been watching.

On the other side of the glass, Hotch stood frozen, his normally composed expression betraying nothing—except for the dark fire burning behind his eyes. He had suspected something was going on between you and Morgan, had seen the way the two of you moved together in the field, the stolen glances, the way Morgan’s hand always lingered on your lower back.

But this?This was something entirely different.

His fists clenched at his sides, his breath slow and measured. He should stop this. Should have left the moment he saw you spread open against the mirror, Morgan’s hands guiding you exactly where he wanted you.

But he didn’t.Because he couldn’t. And of course Morgan knew Hotch was watching. And that only made him rougher with you.

“Keep your eyes on the glass, sweetheart,” Morgan murmured in your ear, grinning at his own reflection because he knew exactly what he was doing. “Wanna see yourself. Wanna see how fuckin’ pretty you look while I ruin your pussy.”

A shudder ran through you at the filth in his voice. “Morgan…”He clicked his tongue. “What did I tell you?” You swallowed hard. “…Agent Morgan.” “Good girl.”

Hotch let out a slow, measured breath, his fingers flexing at his sides. He told himself it was to monitor the situation, to assess what was happening, but deep down, he knew better.

His pulse was hammering. And his breath was uneven. And the worst part? He was so hard.

“You wanted this, huh?” Morgan taunted, his hands gripping your waist, pushing you harder against the glass. “Wanted to be fucked in here like a naughty little thing?” You gasped, fingers slipping against the mirror as your body jolted from the force.

Hotch’s breath hitched.

Morgan leaned in, his voice thick with amusement. “Bet Hotch is watchin.” His lips brushed your ear. “Bet he’s standing right there, wishing he was the one touching you.”

You stiffened, eyes going wide. “W-what?”Morgan let out a dark chuckle.You had no idea that Hotch was standing on the other side of the mirror, watching every single thing Morgan did to you, watching you fall apart under his hands. But when you realised, your walls clenched around him.

Morgan smirked, his hand sliding down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin. “Oh, you like that, huh?”

Before you could even process what was happening, his palm cracked against your ass, a sharp, delicious smack that sent your head falling back against his shoulder. A muffled noise, something dangerously close to a groan, came from the other side of the glass.

Morgan’s grin widened, his dark eyes locking onto his own reflection, knowing exactly what Hotch was doing.

“C’mon, Hotch,” Morgan murmured, voice thick with smug dominance, knowing the older man had been silent for too long. “Say somethin’ to her.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then—Hotch’s voice crackled through the interrogation room’s intercom. "You're such a good girl."

Your entire body tensed, a whimper escaping your lips. The sound of his voice—low, dark, controlled, but dripping with need, hit you like a shockwave, sending you spiralling over the edge before you even realized what was happening.

Your nails scratched at the mirror, back arching, mouth open in a silent cry as you came undone completely.

Morgan cursed under his breath as he felt it. Felt the way you clenched even harder around him at the sound of your boss's voice.

Hotch exhaled sharply, his hand gripping the front of his jeans, fingers pressing into the fabric, a quiet, restrained groan vibrating in his chest.

Morgan grinned, watching the wrecked expression on your face in the mirror after he came inside you. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your shoulder. “You did so well for us.”

#derek morgan #derek morgan smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds derek morgan #cm morgan smut #aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch

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itsmerelliwellie · 15 days ago

Text

I Can Breathe When I'm Next To You | R. Kaji x Reader

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For this pretty over here

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15.) "I said don’t move!" "You’re the one straddling me.”

16.) "I can’t sleep unless I feel you breathing next to me.”

Prompts

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Warning(s): Blood (kinda)

Important Warning: NOT REALLY BETA READ

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It was almost one in the morning when someone knocked at your door.

You froze in the middle of reading your book. Nobody ever came this late. Not unless something was wrong.

You made your way to the door, heart thudding, and peeked through the peephole.

“Kaji?” you whispered to yourself before unlocking it and yanking the door open.

He stood there leaning against the frame like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His lower lip was split, there was a nasty cut along his brow, and his knuckles were still red, some drying into a dark brown. His hoodie was half unzipped and something soaked through at the shoulder.

Blood.

Your voice came out in a sharp breath. “What the hell happened?”

Kaji blinked slowly, lips twitching in that half-grin he always gave when he didn’t want you to worry.

“Hi,” then, “Can I come in?”

“Ren.” You stepped forward and caught him just as he swayed, looping his arm around your shoulders and hauling him inside. “You’re bleeding. You’re actually bleeding—what happened?”

“Just a brawl,” he mumbled. “Wasn't a big deal. Got jumped on the way home.”

You led him to the couch, ignoring his grunts as he dropped onto it with a pained sigh. You flicked the lamp on, and your stomach twisted at the full picture. Bruised ribs, busted lip, the sleeve of his hoodie torn like someone had grabbed him and yanked. Even with all the damage, he looked tired more than anything. And still, infuriatingly, unfairly handsome.

“I should’ve gone straight home,” he said. “But I… I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

That stopped you in your tracks.

You turned slowly from the bathroom doorway, where you’d gone to grab the first aid kit.

He wasn’t looking at you. His head was resting against the back of the couch, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Your heart cracked open.

“You did the right thing,” you whispered. “Always come to me. I don’t care what time it is.”

You came back with a damp cloth, bandages, and alcohol. When you knelt down in front of him, he opened his eyes again, slow and heavy.

“Stay still,” you murmured. “I got you.”

He didn’t move as you dabbed at the cut above his eyebrow, but he flinched when the alcohol hit the wound. His hand instinctively grabbed your wrist.

“I said don’t move,” you scolded.

His fingers stayed wrapped around your wrist, but his lips curved into a soft smirk.

“You’re the one straddling me.”

You blinked down and realized that you kind of were. You’d braced yourself over him without thinking, legs tucked on either side of his knees. The position wasn’t exactly PG.

“W-Well, if you’d sit up straight, I wouldn’t have to.” You can feel your face heating up.

He tilted his head. “Then maybe I’ll keep slouching.”

You didn’t have a comeback. You were too focused on the way his eyes lingered on your lips.

You cleared your throat and resumed cleaning him up, silent for a moment—until you noticed his gaze hadn’t left you.

“What?” you asked, dabbing gently at his jaw.

“I kept thinking about you,” he said quietly. “The whole time I was fighting. Like… I didn’t want you to see me like this. But I also didn’t want to be anywhere but here.”

Your hands froze.

He licked his lip and winced at the sting. “I think I’m tired of pretending this is just friendship.”

“Kaji…”

He leaned forward slightly. “I know it’s selfish. I know it’s messy. But when I’m around you, it’s the only time I feel like I can… breathe.”

“You idiot,” you whispered. “I’ve been in love with you for months. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

He stared at you, stunned for a split second.

“Say it again.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Say it again,” he repeated, voice rougher. “Please.”

You leaned in, so close your lips brushed the corner of his bruised mouth. “I’m in love with you, Ren Kaji.”

He closed the distance.

The kiss was warm, aching, and slow. Releasing every ounce of tension you’d both been holding onto. His hands found your waist, fingers curling in the fabric of your shirt like he never wanted to let go. You moved carefully, mindful of his injuries, but his kiss was all-consuming. Messy and real and full of unspoken things that no longer had to stay buried.

When you finally pulled back, he let out a breathless laugh.

“Ow,” he said, touching his bottom lip. “Worth it.”

You giggled, brushing your thumb under his eye. “That was reckless.”

He smirked. “I’ve had worse ideas.”

You pressed your forehead to his, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart under your palm.

“You’re staying here tonight,” you murmured.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I’ll get you some water and painkillers.”

“Wait.” His fingers curled around your wrist again—gentle this time.

You paused.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered, eyes a little unfocused, “unless I feel you breathing next to me.”

The words hit you in the chest.

“Alright. I’ll be right back,” you said, softer now.

He nodded, letting you go reluctantly, as if afraid you’d vanish.

You didn’t.

You returned to the living room with a new clean cloth and bandages. Kaji was still slumped back on the couch with one arm lazily draped over the backrest, eyes half-lidded like he was teetering on the edge of sleep.

But when you knelt in front of him, he blinked down at you. Tired. Soft. Present.

“You should be in a hospital,” you murmured, brushing your fingers along the blood-stained edge of his hoodie.

He gave you a weak grin. “Not a fan of hospitals.”

“You’re not a fan of being careful, either.”

“How bad does it look?” he asked, voice quiet.

“Like it’s going to hurt worse tomorrow,” you said honestly.

You leaned forward to clean the scrape on his ribs, one hand steady on his hip, the other dabbing gently with the cloth. His muscles tensed under your touch. Yet, he didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into your palm like he needed the contact to ground him.

“You don’t have to do all this,” he whispered.

“I want to,” you said. “Let me take care of you, Ren.”

He swallowed hard, and his eyes found yours again. Thoughtful, full of something unsaid.

Your fingers brushed along his jaw, tilting his face toward you. You used the cloth to wipe dried blood from his lip, then his cheek, your thumb barely grazing the cut near his temple. He didn’t flinch. He just watched you.

When you reached his lip again, he caught your wrist gently.

His voice was a breath. “You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like you’re going to kiss me again.”

Your lips parted. “Maybe I am.”

Then you did.

You leaned up, brushing your lips over his injured one with all the gentleness in the world. It wasn’t about heat or desperation. It was comfort. Closeness.

His hand moved from your wrist to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin like he was trying to memorize it.

You pulled back, just enough to whisper, “Still hurts?”

His lips curved into a lopsided smile. “A little. Think I need another one.”

You kissed him again. Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, your body leaning into his as the kiss deepened. His breath stuttered when you gently pulled his bottom lip between yours.

You pulled back again, hearts pounding in sync.

“You’re dangerous like this.” His eyes were getting heavy.

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over a fading bruise on his collarbone. “Maybe I like having you vulnerable for once.”

He huffed a soft laugh, then winced. “Careful. I’m fragile right now.”

“Oh please,” you teased, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the bruise. “You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Another kiss just below his jaw this time.

Kaji’s breath caught. “You're not making this easy.”

You looked up at him. “Easy’s boring.”

He grabbed your hand then, threading his fingers through yours. “Stay with me tonight.”

“I already told you I’m not leaving,” you said, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

“No, I mean…” He hesitated, eyes flicking down. “I don’t want to fall asleep without you. I meant it earlier. I won’t be able to sleep unless you’re cuddling me.”

Your heart clenched. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his forehead before letting out a small chuckle.

“Then I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered against his skin. “You’ve got me.”

He closed his eyes.

You helped him into your bed later, guiding him with soft hands and slower movements. He groaned quietly when he laid back, wincing at the ache in his side.

You crawled in beside him. He turned toward you instinctively, arm wrapping around your waist, hand splayed against your lower back.

Your faces were inches apart. His lashes fluttered as he blinked at you sleepily.

“I think I fell for you the first time you yelled at me for skipping lunch,” he murmured.

You grinned, brushing your nose against his. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

“Worth the wait,” he whispered, kissing you one more time.

And that night, bruised and broken and completely at peace, Ren Kaji slept with your heartbeat as his lullaby.

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A/N: My baby >o<

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#wind breaker #self-insert fic #wbk #kaji x reader #ren kaji #kaji ren #kaji x yn #kaji x you #ren kaji x reader #ren kaji x you #ren kaji x yn

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ijenoyou · 2 months ago

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A new day to love.

Joaquín Torres x StarkF!Reader

warnings: not really i think ? lol just fluff and a bit of angst

note: yay another follow up of Ojos lindos !! i’m glad yall like it :3 if anyone has a suggestion for this storyline or if it’s a suggestions for another quino work im all earsssaa!!, remember english isn’t my first language so yeah if there’s any mistakes plz don’t mind them hahaha

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Joaquín. His mother and grandmother took him away on a short vacation after he was discharged from the hospital. But it’s also been a while since the two of you have had a chat. You couldn’t face him, a part of you still angry at yourself for not being in full control of your own powers.

It felt all too overwhelming.

You lost sleep over it, training hard late at night until your body gave up.

“Why so quiet, uh?” Sam’s voice full with curiosity brought you back to reality.

You shifted on your seat at the kitchen aisle and sighed. You tried to avoid Sam’s eyes that seemed to follow every move you make, feeling your body start to feel physically uncomfortable at the question.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” You spoke, your voice came out with difficulty. “I was just dissociated, that’s all.” You tried to give him a smile but failed.

Sam lifted one of his eyebrows, giving you a questioning look. You hated when he did that, because at the end of the day, that would make you crack under pressure and tell him everything each time he did that.

“Is it Joaquín?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes found yours.

“No.”

He sighed. His own mind coming to terms about the fact that you were too stubborn to understand none of Joaquín’s accident was your fault. Or anyone’s for that matter.

“The kid’s coming back today. Did you know?”

Your whole body tensed up, your attention directed towards Sam, who was in front of you while holding an iced glass of water.

You nodded. “He texted me.” Your eyes traveled down Sam’s frame, letting them rest on his hands, following the droplets of water on his glass making your throat burn with thirst.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been avoiding him.”

You scoff after hearing him and stood up.

“Is that little birdie Redwing? You know how I feel about that thing.” You heard Sam laugh at your words.

“Joaquín himself told me, he said you’ve been ignoring every text he sends, I just wanted to know why.”

But, did you fully know why? The first thing that made your brain turn into a fuss was the accident but deep down you knew there’s more to it. And at that exact moment it all came crashing down to you.

What if your power got out of control and you ended up hurt them both?

Hurting Joaquín.

The thought sent a chill down your spine, making your skin explode with a coldness sensation all over it. Sam took notice of that, he saw the way your arms filled up with goosebumps.

“I can’t face him.” A second passed.

“Why?”

“W-What if I hurt him? What if I hurt you?” Distress plastered on your face. “I’m weak and to make things worse I can’t fully control what I do— it was me who failed Joaquín!”

He shook his head and stood up from his seat and walked towards you, he held your forearms in his palms and gave you a little squish for reassurance.

“You didn’t fail him— you won’t hurt us, you won’t hurt him.”

“You don’t know that.” You said in a whisper, instant tears filling your eyes up. “I don’t even know why am I so scared of myself. Before meeting him I didn’t even care of what had become of me after Tony’s death.”

Sam couldn’t believe your words, too stunned at them. The only thing he could do was offer you some sense of comfort, so that’s what he did. He gave you the tightness hug you’ve had since meeting him.

You didn’t know how to react.

You were used to people feeling sorry for you, a situation that became a routine after your father’s funeral. So it wasn’t exactly new what was happening but it felt nice. Sam was a new father figure to you, and you were grateful because if it wasn’t for him you would be living a very unhappy life under Pepper’s roof, living a foreign life with her and your half sister.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Joaquín’s voice appeared from behind you and Sam. “Oh! And my family is here too!” Before you could leave Sam’s hold, two more voices began talking.

“Capitán América! Es un placer volvernos a ver.” An elderly woman spoke up and you finally let go of Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded. “The pleasure is mine, how was Las Vegas?”

“We loved it! isn’t that right mom?” She turned to another woman. After a few seconds they noticed you standing behind Sam, almost as if you were hiding from them— from Joaquín.

“Ms. Stark, right?” You nodded. “Oh! Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti” She began walking towards you and gave you a very tight hug that caused you to lose air in your chest. Assuming that’s Joaquín’s mother and grandmother, your mind began spiraling. Was he really telling them about you? Did they know you were avoiding him?

“Okay mom, let her go.” Joaquín said while gently taking his mother away from you.

You were about to speak when Sam clapped his hands loudly and smiled.

“Why don’t I take mom and grands on a tour around the base?” He asked them, making the two women smile with joy. Joaquín’s grandmother interlinked her arm with Sam’s and began walking away.

“So…” Joaquín trailed off. “Why are you avoiding me?”

You bit your lip and sighed.

It was sudden, the way you lost the ability to speak what was on your mind, it made you feel crazy. Why did Joaquín made you feel that way? You didn’t like him like that.

Right?

You felt him shift next to you. You ran your fingers through your hair to try grounding yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You finally dared to look at him in the eyes. “I’ve been overthinking a lot of things these days you were gone.” He softly nodded and you continued. “You make me feel a lot of new things and it scares me.”

He dared to step closer to you.

You could feel his warmth the way you did when you first met him.

“Why?”

“What I hurt you? What if one day my powers overtake me? Quino I’ve grown used to this, to us but I don’t what you to end up getting hurt because of me.”

He let a tiny gasp out of lips and got even closer to you. Joaquín thought he was turning crazy, because in what universe would Y/N Stark be confessing she cared about him— the way he cares about her.

“I don’t believe for any second that you would hurt anyone, or me.” He softly spoke as he reached for your hands. “You have the most beautiful soul anyone has, don’t even doubt it for a moment.”

His hands traveled up your arms just for them to rest at your jawline, he was holding your face in place with a steady grip. That action made your cheeks start filling up with color.

“I know what I’m getting into if that’s what you’re worried about.” He spoke while getting even closer to you, to your face. “Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí.” You laugh at his words and nod.

Because it was true.

When you saw him for the first time, you could already tell you would become very fond of him really fast. And that thought became even stronger when he was at the hospital with you taking care of him. You wouldn’t trust another person to help him heal. Even the doctor thought the same, he surprisingly gained his strength back in an incredible speed.

It was quiet for a few moments.

If you focused enough, you could feel his heart beating right through his palm, letting the beat sting your skin. As if that was your way of know he was alive.

With pleading eyes, his own face began reaching for yours.

“Stop me if you don’t—“

Right as you were on verge of kissing him, his mother’s voice appeared again.

“Mijo! Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela.” She said excitedly while looking down at her phone.

She then lifted her gaze from the device and saw the way Joaquín held your face with gentle hands.

“Mom!” He separated from you with a huff. “We were in the middle of a conversation.”

She laughed at his son and shook her head. “Right. What a lovely conversation.”

[ ]

You were now walking towards the exit next to the Torres’s family and Sam after you offered to make dinner for all of them. Sam was chatting with both women behind you and Joaquín while he stood at your side, leading the way.

His grandmother took notice of the way his hand would brush yours while walking, too shy to fully hold it. She smiled and prayed for his grandson to have the courage to do it and when he finally did take your hand in his she celebrated inside her own mind.

When all of you reached the Torres’s car, Joaquín turned around still holding your hand.

“Quino, please call if anything happens.” His grandmother took a step forward and smiled, he nodded his head while letting go of you for a brief moment to give her a very tight hug.

“And you, Mija, take care.” She gently said while tucking a strand of hair away from your face. “Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato.” A smile appeared on your face, Joaquín’s grandmother gave you a wink and hugged you.

After you and Sam said your goodbye’s to them, the both of you decided to step away from the Torres family for a moment to let them have a chat before they leave back home.

“I assume you and pretty boy are okay now, uhm?” Sam said with that cheeky smile of his.

You blushed at the same time your head turned towards him and laughed.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed you with his shoulder.

“I heard his grandma gave you the bendición.”

Now your face felt hotter.

“Stop it.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

“Alright Captain obvious, stop that or I’ll paint Redwing pink.” You said while fixing your gaze on Joaquín.

“Do it.” Sam simply said and shrugs. “Ladies like pink, you’ll be doing me a favor.” Now it was your turn to push Sam, but you did it with too much force you didn’t know you had, causing him to loose his balance and land on a bush that was next to him.

“Torres get your girl!” He shouted from the bushes.

But Joaquín, instead of helping him, only took out his phone and captured a picture of the way Sam’s feet could be the only thing seen in the bushes. You were captured laughing on the ground, noticing the struggle Sam had while trying to get up.

—

Es un placer volvernos a ver - It’s a pleasure to see you again.

Mi Quino no ha dejado de hablar de ti - My Quino wouldn’t stop talking about you.

Desde la primera vez que te ví, supe que yo sería para ti y tú para mí. - Since the first time I saw you, I knew you were made for me and I was made for you.

Mira la foto que le tomé a tu abuela - Look at the picture I took of your grandma.

Mi Quino nunca dejo de hablar de ti, y espero que siga así por un buen rato - My Quino never stoped talking about you, and I hope it stays that way for a long time.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #marvel scenarios #marvel x reader #marvel x you

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marsmaximoff · 3 months ago

Text

🪩; club pentagon 𖦹₊⋆☾

content warning: ‘long haired’ fem!reader. suggestive. drugs, alcohol.

word count: 1.4k 💜

author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!

divider by @strangergraphics <3

the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.

while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important...

he looks hot. and like a total dick too.

“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”

on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.

the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction.

eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me.

“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity.

my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively.

i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire.

he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute.

the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him.

“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience” “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.” “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable.

he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.

the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck.

my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?”

“i want you to know what to moan”

#squid game #namgyu x reader #namgyu x you #player 124 #player 124 x reader #player 124 x you #nam gyu #roh jae won #namgyu x y/n #roh jae won x reader #player 124 x y/n #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #roh jae won x you #Spotify

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soullessdianthus · 2 years ago

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Please 🙏 please 🙏please more Perv!könig!!

A/N: How about Perv!König the brat tamer? Idea suggested by @mxx-mayari ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Warnings: abuse of authority, degradation, dry humping his boot, leash/pet play?

The colonel basically dragged you into his private office, pushing your smaller frame inside by the arm he was gripping so hard. You stumbled over your own feet, before turning around to face an enraged man.

König closed and locked the door, his palm was splayed over the wooden frame as he exhaled the air slowly. You observed as his shoulder sank, before he spoke.

━ What were you thinking?

His voice was harsh and filled with venom. König’s blue eyes piercing through your soul. For the first time in a while you felt truly terrified. And since you were tied to a private military, there were very few things that made you this vulnerable. Your colonel was one of them.

You took a step back, glossy eyes nervously looking around the room. There was no way out besides the doors he just locked.

His large figure moved towards your direction. König seemed rabid, but only his voice revealed that fact. Otherwise, he moved steadily, his spine straightened out – the Austrian man was already towering over you, he only did that to scare you further. To make you feel small.

━ I did what I had to to save my college, sir.

━ But I specifically told you not to. Then why? ━ König finally stopped right in front of you, a little too close perhaps as you had to turn your head away, not to bump into his chest. ━ Do you pity that boy, schatz? Is that the reason?

━ No. Are you jealous, sir?

You scratched his ego, testing the waters – his true intentions. You weren’t blind. You’ve noticed the colonel took a liking to you some time ago and lately his behavior got more… bold.

━ Watch your tone, when speaking to your superior, pretty thing. ━ He carefully squeezed the bone of you jaw with his bare hands and made you look up at him. You looked so cute for him – beautiful eyes staring at him from underneath the eyelashes, somewhere at the edge of crying for him. It went straight to his cock.

━ If that’s everything, I’m going to go, sir.

Once you tried to walk past him, his grip over your jaw tightened. König hooked two fingers of his other hand over your belt, pulling you closer. He was standing so close, yours and his heat blended together.

━ Oh, you won’t walk away without punishment for insubordination, soldier. On your knees, maus.

━ W-What? ━ For a second you thought you misheard something he said. But the colonel repeated the order in a more demeaning manner. At that moment, when blood ran cold in your veins, you realized you were in serious trouble.

You didn’t exactly know how you found yourself in this situation – humping your superior boot with a belt looped around your neck. Everything happened so quickly, when he pushed you onto your knees, warm heat pumped within your ears. König said it was your punishment for disobedience, that he was disappointed with his kleine maus.

König forced you to entangle your arms around his massive thigh, one of his hands keeping your head against his crotch. It looked like you were a little child, glued to his leg, begging him not to go.

The man had to put a spell on you, because how on earth would you ever agree to this humiliating thing? Somehow your colonel managed to wrap you around his finger, threatening to abuse his authority.

━ Come on, you need to work harder, schatz. Apologize. ━ He said, tugging at the “collar” made of his belt. You whined, when he squeezed the loop around your throat again, threatening to cut off your oxygen.

━ I’m sorry. ━ A pathetic sob escaped your lips, when a knot in your lower tummy began to painfully sting. You continuously rolled your hips over the surface of his shoe laces, leaving the sticky arousal on top of it. It was messy and degrading, yet somehow you managed to get yourself riled up.

Obviously König made you lower your pants and underwear, he wanted to feel your bare cunny sliding along his feet, even through the shoes. He could feel precisely how you rubbed yourself to make it pleasurable.

And he kept staring at you from above, admiring how much the colonel had managed to ruin you. You fell into his nasty, little games he played.

━ Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat ━ colonel laughed, looking down at your pathetic state. By this time your flustered face was stained with tears and it turned him even more. ━ Oh, you wanna cum, pet? Is that what you want?

But you weren’t very mouthy when overstimulated. You only sobbed and whimpered, when he tilted the tip of his shoe further into your wet folds, causing you to jump forward and arch your ass better.

━ Be careful, maus ━ the Austrian colonel warned about your noises, gently rubbing your head that rested upon his bulge. You could feel his scent through the material of the pants, his cologne and arousal. ━ They might hear you.

━ Pl-Please, sir. I-It hurts!

You pressed your eyes shut, feeling as the tiredness finally got you. All of the struggle against your own release, made you palpable and weak. Suddenly, there was not enough willpower in you to keep talking back to him. You just wanted that sweet release!

━ Will you follow my orders from now on?

━ Yes!

━ Gut, then you can have your little reward, schatzi. Be a good girl and cum over my shoe.

And you didn’t need much more than this. A few more rolls of your hips and you reached that tingling sensation, warm spreading inside each limb. Your pussy and his shoe was covered in your sticky juices as you shivered, falling deeper into the embrace around his leg.

━ See? It wasn't that hard to obey orders. ━ König finally said, his big hand still caressing the top of your head. You did so good for him.

#cod #cod mwii #codmw2 #request #reader insert #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #perv!konig #perv!könig

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awriterinthenight · 7 months ago

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"Is this real?"-Jess Mariano

words: 983

warnings: Jess being a tiny bit of an asshole, language, Jess Mariano x Artist!Reader

summary: You and Jess never got along back in New York, but when your art gets hung up in a gallery, Jess is the first person you want to tell. But, he's no longer in New York

You'd done it, you actually did it. This seemed like something you had only dreamed of, but here it was the proof that you actually had done it.

You were a very passionate artist, working hard on everything you did. Making sure every painting was almost perfect, and it seemed to finally pay off. Your art was being hung up in one of the biggest art galleries. They were doing an installment of a young artists works, and by some miracle yours got picked,

Thinking about it, the only reason this happened was because of Jess. He wasn't the nicest to you exactly. The two of you seemed to have a random rivalry for almost no reason at all. Yet he was the one who always pushed you.

If he thought something was off with your painting, he wasn't afraid to say it, and have you rethink the entire painting. Sometimes you talked about how one day you wanted your art framed in a famous gallery. If he overheard that he would immediately say something like 'not with that splotchy painting' which would annoy you, especially since he wasn't an artist. But now you realized that without his helpful critiques, you probably wouldn't be here right now.

As strange as it sounds, all you wanted to do was run to him and tell him all about how your art was going to be in a gallery. Even though he was a dick about your art, sometimes if you really accomplished something, like winning a prize or being recognized, he would congratulate you and be entirely sincere about it.

The thing was though, that Jess no longer lived in New York. His mom had shipped him down to some random small town to live with his uncle. You didn't know his current number, or even where he was, so it looked like you had to give up hope.

Or, at least you thought you did, till you remembered you knew Liz's number. You called her, asking where Jess was. She seemed suspicious to why some girl was asking about where he was, but once you explained that you were his friend, which is kind of a lie, but also kind of not, she gladly told you that he was in some town called Stars Hollow, living with his uncle Luke, at a diner called Luke's.

You thanked Liz for the information, quickly grabbing your keys and running to your car. The drive from New York to Stars Hollow was only about 2 hours with traffic. You made it down there in what felt like almost no time, it was now almost 4pm when you parked outside of the diner, where you could see Jess from the window.

Grabbing the newspaper that had the picture of your art, and the article on it, you ran inside. A site like this was something new for the people of Stars Hollow, so they were all intrigued when an unfamiliar girl, in a leather jack ran into Luke's diner, shouting, "Jess, jess."

Jess looked up from where he was taking an order behind the counter, immediately recognizing your voice in a second, "Y/N, w-what are you doing he-" he started to say, getting cut off by you.

"Shut up, just read this," you told him, practically shoving the paper into his hands, as you leant over the counter.

He smirked at you demanding him to read the paper, "Alright, alright calm down," he said, starting to read the paper. He read it rather quickly, his eyes picking up on keywords. In moments his mouth broke into a huge grin, he had read how your artwork was being framed in a rather well known gallery.

"No way, is this real?" he asked, in shock at how you finally accomplished your dreams.

You nodded frantically, "Yes, it's already up, but the exhibit opens next week," you told him.

Not being able to contain his excitement for you, he moved around the counter, hugging you. He even spun you around a couple times, proud of you for your accomplishment.

"I can't believe it," he said, smiling down at you after he set you down, "We have to celebrate, how long are you in town for?" he asked.

You shrugged, "I don't know, how long do you want me to stay?" you ask a seemingly innocent question, since you weren't in any rush to leave.

Jess could feel his brain short circuit at that moment. He desperately wanted to say 'forever', but knew that couldn't, "My shift ends at 6, so you can come back around then, and if you want you can find somewhere to crash for the night, then leave in the morning," Jess said, trying not to think of how you might have to leave at some point.

"Perfect," you said, "I'll come back around 6 then, I'll see you later," you told him, walking out of Luke's diner. You were gonna spend the next two hours touring around town and some of the small shops.

Jess didn't realize it until now, but the entire diner had been quiet since the moment you walked in. Everyone was in utter shock that the delinquent Jess Mariano, who was known for not caring for anyone, was just seen with a girl, who he was looking at as if she was the only important thing in this world.

"What are you all staring at," he yelled, making everyone go back to their usual activities, now that regular Jess was back. He turned to Luke who was still staring at him, "What, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, annoyed at everyone.

"Nothing," Luke said, too tired to deal with this. You didn't know it yet, but soon you would be the talk of the town. The girl who was able to make Jess Mariano, actually care for someone.

#x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #gilmore girls

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svnnw · 9 months ago

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WHEN YOU SMILE — chapter 45

45 ) when you smile

there was no way mark would be here, right? before you could even text him back someone knocked on your door. you had hoped that it would be one of your friends that gave you a surprise visit but the chances were very low. should i just hide in my room untill he leaves? wait he knows that i'm here FUCK. the person outside the door knocked again only for you to realize that you've been waiting for way too long so you quickly pushed your thoughts away and went to the door. you slowly opened the door seeing the person you tried to avoid for the whole day. right in front of you stood mark. you took your time to admire him and noticed that he wore the same outfit a few hours ago, his hair was slightly messy and you could see a faint blush on his cheeks while he did the complete opposite and tried to avert his eyes away from you to avoid eye contact at all cost. you tried your best stay away from him but you knew that the moment he sent you that message you couldn't escape anymore.

"you know you can come in right?" you moved aside so he can enter your apartment. he was in complete awe as he walked inside. the first thing he took notice of was a small picture frame on your wall with you and your friends. being so captured by your warm home he slowly forgot the reason why he even came all the way.

"so you're here because..?" you hesitantly asked having a glimpse of hope that he had already forgotten of the whole rumor going on.

"y/n, tell me everything" out of all the things you thought he would say he came straight to the point.

"what are you talking about?" you knew exactly what he was talking about but you can always hope for a miracle to happen.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about. tell me everything about that stupid rumor. it's not true right? just please talk to me and don't go away" he really got you tearing up now. you've never had a person care this much for you. a person who is desperate for you to talk to them just so there won't be any misunderstandings. mark took notice of your eyes tearing up and he immediately cupped your face not daring to let go.

you took his hand away and intertwined it with yours while you took him away from the living room. the silence was enough for him to understand that you would start sobbing if you even uttered a word out so he just let you lead him to your room. the thirty seconds of silence felt forever but mark didn't mind it the only thing he cared about right now is you being okay.

the both of you sat down on your bed and mark stayed silent waiting for you to start talking.

"did you believe anything they said about me?" you said while looking at your lap hoping for every other answer than 'yes'.

"you know how much i trust you and that i would never believe them" you heard his voice crack and it took you everything to not start crying right in front of him.

"i'm sorry" was the only thing you could say before you felt a tear drop on your hands. mark knew you were in a vulnerable state right now so he carefully pulled you in his arms trying his best to not overwhelm you with all your emotions as he stroke your hair.

it felt embarrassing to cry without even telling him why but mark was a very understanding person and it broke his heart to see you getting hurt from people you had no contact with.

"you don't have to apologize for anything. you know how much i love you and how much trust i have for you. even if we got to know each other because of a deal we made i'm glad it was you. i know good people exist because you're one of them. i want you to only experience happy things in life and forget the sad memories. i love you y/n. not as your fake boyfriend but as me, mark."

his hand that was on top of yours started trembling and you knew he was waiting for you to reciprocate his confession. without hesitation you pulled him into a kiss. he didn't waste a second and kissed you back finally feeling your lips after dreaming about this for weeks. you only stopped kissing him for air and when you did that it made him giggle on how you chased after his lips. after your little make out session mark broke the kiss and cupped your cheeks forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"are you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?" you suddenly had to ask.

"when we played 7 minutes in heaven" mark replied.

"tell me more about it, when do you think i am the prettiest??" you eagerly asked.

"when you smile."

even after you tried to stay away from him today he took his time and went to your apartment not only to clear things up but also because he cared about you more than you could ever know. he was your true love.

masterlist – previous – next

a/n – OMGG GUYS WHAT ARE WE THINKING RN??? i had so much fun doing this smau and i will seriously miss it SO MUCH i could literally sob rn 😞😞 marky/n were such cuties and i will miss them so so much BUT luckily i will write about five bonus chapters for you guys in the next few days so we still have some moments with them NOW AS A COUPLE!!

wordcount – 0.9k

TAGLIST — open @marvelahsobx @foxy-kitsune @sunflowerbebe07 @jenmongiii @haechansbbg @defzcl @buns-inhiding @minkyuncutie @gukuwii @bugcattie @jaeims @222brainrot @axo-l0tl @pnkified @yyangj3lly @haesluvr @choerubies @m1ng1swife @odxrilove @jising-jisang-jisung @junviadinho @mjnhoz @p4tyaraujo @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @meloncremesoda @nanaxwi @sehunniepot @wouldyoulikesomefrieswiththat @multifandomania @morkiee @loonathic @softpia @nctrawberries @tommina @nosungluv @tynlvr @miniature-tragedy @alethea-moon @starfilledgaze @polarisjisung @miyawwn @kittydollzz @bitchzitschimi @syzavxy @jeongintwt @vantxx95 @onlyhyunjin @rllymark @markeroolee

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hyuny-bunny · 1 year ago

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baby said | Y.J. + H. H.

genre: established relationship, rockstar bf x groupie gf x rockstar bff, smut, a touch of fluff, a sprinkle of angst, M X F X M,

wordcount: 6.2K

part I

MNDI (+18) CW: oral (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v, afab reader, use of she/her/hers/girlfriend, pet names (baby, angel), slight degradation, hyunjin is a whore, voyeurism, riding, squirting, fingering, slight breeding, cumplay, spanking (slightly), teeny bit of angst w/ a splash of fluff, slight overstimulation, threesome, M X F X M, mxm smut

a/n: proof read ? god no. if i miss any warnings please do let me know. also took me several days to pump this out so if you hate it, don't tell me :') peep the nana reference mwahaha

summary: after concert celebration with hyunjin and jeongin takes a turn... for the bed

Since that night in the green room, Hyunjin seemed to have slightly reeled in his behavior. Emphasis on slightly. He remained the flirt he was but less… opportunistic in his advances physically, less pressing you into walls & corners, opting to redirect the energy to his flirty advances. Jeongin noticed his hyung had become more affectionate with him, doting on him like a child or making suggestive remarks. But, no one spoke of that night.

Jeongin had purposely left that door unlocked. While the target in mind had been Hyunjin, he was willing to expose any poor soul's eyes to the lewd state he had you in that night. Jeongin had lucked out on seeing the look of shock, and terror, mixed with pleasure that painted his face. Finally, he had shown Hyunjin that his attempts would remain futile as long as Jeongin had you wrapped around his finger… Or in this case his cock.

Tonight was a big night for the band, Minho had made some calls and was able to arrange for a talent scout to watch them play. He happened to be an old friend of Minho’s but the timing never worked out until now. It was a sold-out show in the city, it had left them antsy and anxious for days leading up to the show. Pressure to be perfect, to show this label what they were and could be. You had never seen Jeongin as stressed as he was, it was to the point that sex had been put on pause until after the show. It didn’t offend you but it was hurting to see Jeongin this way without being able just to take the weight off his shoulder for a moment. In consequence, it leaves you starved. You still cuddled every night and his kisses were endless but you missed him inside you. Needed him in you like you needed air to breathe.

You arrive at the venue, making your way toward the hall that leads backstage, you show your credentials to security before making your way to the green room. The door was closed, Minho leaning against the frame with his head pressed to the wall.

“Everything alright?” You ask, his head finally peaks up to look at you.

“What do you think?” He asks sheepishly, half laughing and shaking his head.

“That bad?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this quiet, not even when they’re sleeping” You sigh knowing exactly what he meant.

“Is it alright to go in?”

“Yeah, go for it. The talent scout is here so I’m gonna fetch him” Minho gently grabs your shoulder in passing “Do. Not… Tell them that I’m bringing the scout in. They’ll all just jump up to their feet and mob him like puppies to kibble.”

“Yes, sir” You laugh knowing he’s probably right.

You knock on the door before walking in. Chan is twirling a drumstick in his hand anxiously, Jisung is hunched over in a ball on the floor fidgeting with the scratch in the wood coffee table, and Jeongin is sat back on the couch with a shaky knee biting back his lip. He only ever bites his lip like this when he’s too lost in thought. Matter of fact, they’re all too consumed with their thoughts to have even noticed you’ve walked in. You sit next to Jeongin causing him to snap out of his dazed state.

“What if I suck?” he asks without looking at you

“You won’t” He’s fixated on something across from him.

“But what if i do?”

“You won’t”

“But-”

“No head. Ever.”

“... that’s a bit cruel don’t you think?”

“Jeongin, look at me” He finally tears his eyes to look at you. His posture softens a bit. You lean forward to kiss his cheek, bringing your lips to his ears.

“You will do amazing like you have always, and I will be there watching, screaming, and cheering you on like I’m the only person in that room tonight.”

His face turns to lean into the hand that caresses his face.

“And when it’s all over, you can have me anyway, anywhere, and however you want, okay?”

There’s a flush across the top of his cheeks with that last comment.

“You know I love you right?” He whispers just low enough for you to hear

“I know”

He looks gorgeous, the black smokey eyeshadow makes his eyes even more striking against the ginger color of his hair. A decision that was made on impulse this past week but has somehow made him look even hotter. You survey the room once more noticing someone was missing.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask which now has Jisung looking up from the coffee table and has Chan dropping his drumstick.

“He’s in the bathroom probably trying to yank one out, he ran through his speed dial fucks, none could be at his beck and call this week so he’s been particularly moody” Chan says so casually it's almost typical. There’s a slam against the wall coming from the bathroom and a loud shout. “See.”

The door to the bathroom is suddenly yanked open and a very frustrated-looking Hyunjin is standing in the doorway. His chest heaving as he puffs out a breath shooting Chan a glare. He’s wearing a black jacket with a velvet finish, a white tank top that scoops a little too low, and black jeans with docs to finish the look. He doesn’t spare you a glance before walking over to the vanity to put his rings on. You look at Jisung who has also zoned out. You slip off the couch to kneel next to him, he looks at you now at eye level with him.

“ I don’t think I need to tell you that they all wouldn’t be here tonight without you Ji, right?” He silently nods. “Good then lets put on a show none of them will forget.”

You kiss the crown of his head before standing up and turning to Chan.

“And you… just be hot and play those drums”

“The ever-encouraging words of our lovely, Y/N, ladies and gentlemen,” Chan applauds you as you curtsey. Hyunjin is sitting on the vanity looking at you, there’s something about his eyes that sends a shiver straight down to where you’ve been aching all week. It’s the same look he had in his eyes that night he grabbed your hand to feel up his tattoos.

“You on the other hand,” You point a wavering finger to Hyunjin “You’ll find something to stick your dick in tonight, so for the love of god, try to be less pissy until it’s all over.”

“I’ll hold out hope, maybe if I’m lucky enough, it'll be you,” He rolls his eyes and lets the comment slip past his lips before he’s able to catch it. It leaves your face flushed and the rest of them shooting a look of bewilderment at him.

The tension is cut by Minho walking back into the room, indicating its almost time for them to go on. On cue, you blow Jeongin a kiss to which he obnoxiously catches and presses to his lips. Hyunjin’s comment rolls around in your head until you get to the bar to grab a drink. You know him enough to know when he’s joking but this didn’t sound like it. The look of shock on everyone's face was just confirmation. You see a seat and ask the guy sitting left of it if it’s taken, he sheepishly says it's all yours. You shed the coat you've been wearing, lined and trimmed in faux fur with intricate embroidery, revealing your long-sleeved mini-black dress. You took note of the way his eyes drank everything in, you smiled looking at him again.

“Are you a big fan of the band?” You ask trying to make small talk, intrigued by his presence. He wasn’t dressed like anyone else here, he wore a grey hoodie and jeans, and a mop of soft brown hair sat on his head matching the softness of his eyes.

“Can’t say that I am just yet. This is my first show, and you?”

“You’re in for a real treat. I’m a huge fan you could say. Been to almost every show.” His eyes widen a bit at this. “Oh really? Just here for the music?” He asks with raised brows.

Without another word, you wink as the lights dim and the crowd screams.

This had to be one of their best shows, the energy from the crowd only amplifying their stage presence. You had never seen them performing as passionately as they had tonight. They all moved and played so perfectly in sync, on top of nailing every drum solo, guitar solo, and long vocal note. The lights had come on and your drink was empty once again. The guy who had been next to you had stood up lingering inside taking a phone call. Minho was the first to come out, he walked to security first to let them know to usher the remainder people out as quickly as possible.

“They’ll be out soon, the talent scout wants to see them to discuss a deal. The venue said we could have it in the attached restaurant so can you please take these orders and grab us a booth?” Minho asks while frantically looking around.

“Boo if this is my reward for being Jeongins girlfriend, I’m expecting a cut of this deal too” You pout at Minho who is waving you off.

You give the waiter the order for the 7 of you before sitting in the booth. It's a rounded booth with an extra chair at the open part of the table. You had given the coat to the host at the entrance but your legs felt cold with the mini dress riding up your thighs in this booth. It isn’t long before you see Chan and Jisung, dressed more casually and strutting to the table. You step out the booth to hug them both and congratulate them on the show. Minho is making his way down soon with Jeongin and Hyunjin in toe. Jeongin is grabbing you by the face to give you a kiss leaving you giggling at his enthusiasm. He tries to kiss all over your face before Jisungs groans and interrupts. You end up sandwiched between Jeongin and Hyunjin, which unfortunately does nothing for the ache between your thighs, the smell of their cologne is all you can breathe in, and the roughness of their jeans brushing against your exposed legs. They were both notorious for manspreading, so any thought or notion you had about legroom was out the window.

Hyunjin seems to either not notice or care about the way your legs try to scoot further from his, you opt to cross your legs over each other, causing your boyfriend to notice and slide a hand onto the thigh that was buried under the other leg, his hand smushed between your thighs and so close to where your panties are dripping for him. Jeongin carries on with his convo with Chan who sits next to him. You take a shallow breath trying to focus on anything else, this piques Hyunjin’s interest.

“What’s got you so worked up?” He asks lowly into your ear while throwing an arm around the back of the booth seating that cages you in.

“I could ask you the same” You scoff when he reaches to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll share if you do? Here I’ll make it easy for you,” He riches for his drink tossing back the last of his drink, you watch a droplet slip down the side of his mouth just missing his lips. As he sets the drink down he’s leaning incredibly and his lips are practically pressed against the shell of your ear. “I would love nothing more than to rip that dress off your body, lay you out on this table, and fuck you while your boyfriend watches. And I know you haven't been fucked for days with how tense our Innie has been.”

You cough trying to suppress the moan you let slip, luckily it only has Jeongin turning to check on you with concern. You tell him you choked on air before he gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to your temple. He promised to make it up to you tonight for the dry spell he left you in this week. Hyunjin has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his gaze fixed on the guy now walking to your table and waving to Minho. It’s the same guy from the bar.

“Ah finally. Everyone this is Seungmin, he works for Capitol Records.” Seungmin waves coyly until his eyes meet yours. Min goes around introducing you all.

“This is Jisung, our singer, Chan, our drummer, Jeongin, our lead guitarist, and Hyunjin, our bass player. This is Y/N, our unofficial assistant and resident groupie.” Minho laughs at that comment but earns him a shin kick from Hyunjin. You roll your eyes extending a handshake.

“I’m Jeongin’s girlfriend. I think it's fair to say that Assistants and Groupies have better benefits than I do but it’s nice to meet you. Formally, that is.” You smile coquettishly. You always knew better to play into the flirt act when it would benefit them.

“It’s nice to have a name to put to such a pretty face.” You blush but it's sincere. The rest are side-eyeing you suspiciously Jeongin only has a questionable look on his face, you mouth ‘tell you later’ to him which melts the furrowed brow expression on his face.

“Great news,” Seungmin says as he sits in the seat between “The company wants to sign you a two-record deal. Some terms are negotiable but I’ll need an answer tonight.”

“What are the terms?” Chan is the first to speak.

“55k sign-on bonus, 15% cut on ticket sales, 10% on album sales, and we keep the royalties.”

“No.” Jeongin says firmly. Seungmin has a shocked look on his face.

“We want our royalties, we write everything ourselves. We’ve produced everything ourselves up until now. Our royalties and right to the music is non-negotiable.” Jisung speaks up but there’s not a single thought of consideration for the offer on his face.

Seungmin looks to Minho for help, “I told you they weren’t gonna crack on that,” he says with a shrug.

“We’d be willing to give a portion of the royalties, but not all.” Hyunjin jumps in.

“20% for you and 80% for us” Chan says.

“You’re twisting my arm on this guys.” Seungmin looks at you all with pleading eyes, it’s so cute it almost works on you. You see why he’s the scout now. He stands up to pull his phone out “Let me make a call.”

He walks away leaving the 6 of you at the table quite, a bit jittery and anxious. Your mind brings you back to what Hyunjin said a few moments ago when you feel fingers brushing the side of your thigh where the hem of your dress rides up. You don’t have a chance to say something to him before Jeongin has a look of distress on his face, his grip on your thigh is getting a little tighter.

“I hate this. Everything about this makes me so anxious.’ He leans his head on your shoulder slumping back. You caress his face making him look at you.

“I can call Yasu, he might be a little helpful. Besides, unless he has some paperwork on him for you to sign at this very moment, which I highly doubt, nothing is final until you put pen to paper.” Yasu was a lawyer your friend of yours, very intimidating to look at with his dark sunglasses always on, the height, the piercings, and his bald head. He was a sweetheart but he had a cold look that always helped when you were going out.

“Please, could you?” He looks at you with his puppy eyes, you kiss his forehead before pulling your phone out to call him.

“Let me out, I gotta make a call.” You say to Hyunjin as your pulling up Yasu’s contact information. He doesn’t budge, “Hyun.”

“Gotta crawl across, baby, I don’t really feel like moving.” You wait a moment.

He can’t be serious. While you’d normally argue with him, you needed to call Yasu before Seungmin came back.

Fuck it.

Without a second thought, you put your legs over his lap before scooting yourself across his lap. That’s when you feel it, he’s hard. You're pulling your dress down again.

“You know you’re a real pain in my ass?” You huff

“I was hoping it would be a pleasure”

You look past him at Jeongin who’s still processing what he saw once again, he needs another moment.

You scurry off to a secluded corner to call Yasu.

It’s a brief conversation, he warns you of what to look out for and to call him first before signing anything.

“Hey, can I ask you something unrelated?”

“Of course.”

“If my boyfriend's band member who is also my long time friend, won’t stop flirting with me despite walking in on me and my very loving boyfriend having sex… what do i do to make him stop?”

He says nothing, you can hear him sigh deeply on the other end.

“Hyunjin.” It’s more of a statement then question, you hum in response. “Throw him a bone.”

“In what way?”

“That’s up to you. Goodnight.”

Your head spinning with ideas. You store it in the back of your mind for a moment before walking back seeing Minho waiving the waiter over to collect the bill.

“What happened?” You ask Jeongin who stands beside Jisung out of the booth.

“We’re renegotiating tomorrow afternoon, let Yasu know we’ll need him if they want to sign,” Jeongin says while wrapping an arm around you. You're texting your friend once more, giving him the details of when and where before he confirms he’ll be there first thing.

Jisung, Chan, and Minho had departed with their goodnights by the time you refocus on your surroundings. Hyunjin is still lingering, standing next to the both of you.

Throw him a bone.

“Hyun, you want to come out with us for a few drinks?” Jeongin asks. It seems someone has already beaten you to the question. Hyunjin is glancing at you once more before that stupid grin is back on his face.

“Sure. I got no one better to do. Sorry, I meant nothing better to do.”

You’re walking down to the speakeasy bar down the street a few blocks over, it was pretty hipster. Dark velvet walls, gold lighting fixtures, and indie shoegaze music. It looked like a burlesque hall but hipster men and women sprinkled everywhere. You often came here for a fun time after a show, it seemed as good of a time as any.

Hyunjin grabbed your drinks while you grabbed a table in the corner tucked from everyone else, your back to being sandwiched between the two of them. You take what was probably your third drink of the night, it’s liquid courage. Every time you felt a buzz like this, your actions were a bit unpredictable. You're swaying a bit, Hyunjin is staring at your lips. The entire time you’ve been sitting here, they were two chatterboxes not sparing an ounce of attention.

“Truth or dare?” You ask. Jeongin is leaning into your back with his head pressed to your shoulder.

“Truth,” Hyunjin answers without sparing a glance at Jeongin, he’s intrigued by the mischief in your eyes.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” Hyunjin’s brow raises.

“Yeah. I do. How does that make you feel?”

“Gotta play the game right, Hyunjinnie,” You say taunting a finger at him.

“Fine, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Jeongin is pressing his lips into your shoulder.

“Take your panties off.” Your chest is fluttering, your boyfriend groans a bit.

“How do you know I’m wearing any?”

“Prove it, then.” You shake your head while you lift off the seat to pull them down a bit before shimming them off. You pick them up tossing the black thong into Hyunjins lap.

“Good girl.” Jeogin nips at your ear, and you let a moan slip while his hands start to paw at the flesh of your thighs. “Truth or dare, Hyunjin?”

‘“Dare,” Hyunjin’s head tilts like a confused puppy as he speaks.

“Kiss me.” Your pussy is drolling with the way Hyunjin is looking at you. You feel yourself getting hotter under his gaze.

Without another second passing, Hyunjin’s lips are attacking your own. It was everything you imagined, his lips were soft and full against yours. His kisses are wet from the way his tongue is dancing with yours. He has a hand in your hair pulling ever so softly, yours tangling in his hair while your other grips at Jeongin who sits behind you. He pulls away to bring his free hand up to your boyfriend's face, he grabs him by the hair pulling him in for a kiss. There, smushed between the two of them, you have the perfect view of their lips and tongues fighting for dominance. The wet smacking and saliva connecting their mouths have you whimpering. It was so lewd to be pressed between the two of them while they moaned and gasped into each other's mouths. They both pull back looking at the flush across your face while panting for air. Jeongin is the first to attack your neck on the side closest to him, and Hyunjin follows suit. You let out a whiny gasp, rubbing their thighs up and down before moving to their crotches feeling the strained hard cock’s beneath their pants. Jeongin’s hand makes its way to your exposed cunt, this pulls you out of your lust-filled haze. You remember you're in public again. You’re pulling Jeongin off once more too.

“Hotel. Now. Not here.” His lips are tinted pink and glossy from hickeys he's just sucked into your skin.

He groans but silently agrees grabbing your purse, Hyunjin pulls away from your neck reluctantly. Pulling you with him out of the booth. Jeongin is leading you out of the now crowded bar, holding your hand while Hyunjin keeps a hand on your waist right beside you. Your heart is racing, pounding against your chest. The walk back to your hotel feels like an eternity, Jeongin is repeatedly slamming down the elevator button with impatience. Hyun is pressed firmly against your back, his arm wrapped around your waist and his hand splayed on your tummy. Never been more thankful to have him holding you so firmly in fear your legs would give out any moment. Hyunjin nips at your ear teasingly while you feel his growing erection poke into your back. The elevator dings, Jeongin dragging the two of you inside. Once the doors shut on you three, Jeongin kisses you once more, his hand rests on your throat holding you in place. Hyunjin is groaning at the sight feeling himself harden even more at the sight of his friend dominating you, his hands are feeling your chest. Hyunjin slips a hand underneath your dress from behind, feeling the way the lack of panties has only made your pussy droll with excitement for him.

You're pulled off the elevator in a swift motion by the two of them, being straight into the room and onto the bed. You're ripping your clothes off while the other two ogle at the scene in front of them, you fully naked in front of them.

"Who's first?" You ask smirking, trail hand between your thighs, turned on by the sight of the two of them staring at you with hunger in their eyes. They turn to look at each other but Jeongin does the unexpected. He's grabbing a fistful of Hyunjin's hair leaning into his ear.

"I want to watch you eat her out first. You can manage that can't you?" Hyunjin is wincing in pain and pleasure before muttering out a yes. "Good, strip your clothes then."

Hyunjin is throwing his clothes off haphazardly around the room, Jeongin sheds the last of his clothes before he settles down on the bed sitting behind you. Hyunjin is down to his boxers, staring at the both of you before sliding them down revealing his cock. He's big like Jeongin, he's not as long but he's just as girthy if not more. You haven't stopped playing with the slick between your thighs, having enjoyed every moment of the strip show, you glance back to see Jeongin, stroking himself looking between you two. Hyunjin is pulling your hands away from yourself pining them above your head. He's laid atop of you, the feeling of his tip so close to your entrance has you whimpering and wiggling under to get some friction.

"Not so fast. I've waited so long for this." He mumbles with his lips just brushing your own, he goes in for a kiss. It's short but filthy with the way his tongue slips. He pulls away, he holds your wrists in one hand to bring his hand down to your face and squeeze your cheeks.

"Open." You open your mouth only for him to spit right onto your tongue. "Swallow."

You do as he says.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin you, such a good girl." He glances at Jeongin while moving his way down your body with teasing kisses. Jeongin gets the hint and leans forward to take hold of your wrists.

When he finally gets to your thighs, you're already whining for him to do anything. He takes his time watching you through lidded eyes, kissing the inside of your thighs until he's faced with your cunt. He licks a strong stripe up flicking your clit leaving you gasping for more, pushing a thigh up and over his shoulder, he starts with slow but firm licks your clit. One arm stretched across your hips to hold you in place while his free hand repeatedly slaps to the outside of your thigh. After enough teasing, his mouth is fully latched to your cunt, messily slurping up every drop of you. You’re screaming out at his torment, looking up at Jeongin who has let up on his grip on your wrist. He's enticed by the way Hyunjin's face is buried in between your legs. He uses his free hand to grope your tit, massaging the boob in his hand and leaning down to kiss you. You're moaning into his mouth when you feel Hyunjin's finger now brushing your g spot. You feel your eyes rolling back and the knot in your stomach about to burst, the feeling of his lips sucking at your clit, and your back arching off the bed begging to feel relief. You can feel Hyunjin’s fingers pick up pace and his tongue flicking repeatedly as you feel your orgasm approaching, and then the rubber band inside you snaps. Legs shaking, body twitching, and cries pouring from your throat as your release drips down Hyunjin’s face.

With every touch, your skin feels like fire as you lay there trying to come back to the present. You almost missed the way Jeongin pulled Hyunjin from between your thighs, attacking his face with hot, sloppy kisses, desperate to know what he tasted like with your release coating his lips. When you regain consciousness, Hyunjin is flipping you over onto your stomach, lifting your hips in the air.

“Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?” Jeongin is leaned down by your face. You nod and whisper yes, throat tired from the screams you let out moments ago. He kisses your forehead before maneuvering to sit in front of you, his legs spread while his cock leaks with precum. His tip is angry red, begging to be touched. You’re reminded that Hyunjin is behind you when you feel a harsh smack on your ass, fingers playing between your folds. He gripped his cock with one hand, stroking himself a few while aligning your hips into place. You feel the way he rubs his tip against your dripping cunt, you wiggle your hips begging him to just put in.

“Please... Hyun please just fuck me please,” You plead while gripping the bed, nails digging into the comforter.

“Anything for you, my angel. Such a dirty girl crying out for my cock arent you?”

He’s slamming his hips into you giving you little time to adjust to feeling, his cock brushes against your cervix. He’s thicker then Jeongin, you can feel every ridge of him inside you. You yelp clenching down on him which causes Hyunjin to groan loudly, digging his fingertips into your hips. He moves slowly pulling himself out before bottoming out inside you again. Your whimpers only egg him on, Jeongin is fisting himself, all thoughts consumed by your moans and the way Hyunjin is slamming himself in and out.

“Gonna fill you up so good. Watch me empty my load into your angel girlfriend, Jeongin.”

Hyunjin picks his pace up, the sound of skin slapping echoes in the room while he pounds into you from behind. You attempt to bury your face in the blanket you lay on top but Hyunjin is drunk on the way you cry out in pleasure, he wants you crying out his name while Jeongin watches. He pulls you up by your hair, lifting you to hold yourself up on your hands, he wraps an arm around your throat, leaning over your body to chokehold you. He continues his merciless thrusting and looks up to Jeongin while he grunts burying himself inside you to the hilt. He has a catlike smirk on his face while you cry out again feeling his tip brushing that spot inside you again. Jeongin is rapidly unfolding at the sight, but he can’t bring himself to release yet. Hyunjin lets you go before pulling out of you leaving you crying out at the empty feeling. He flips you onto your back, you roll over like a ragdoll now that every muscle in your body is worn. He settles on his lifting your hips into his lap before beginning to pound into your cunt. He holds your hips in the air while your back is arching once again, he’s so close and this new angel is bring him close to his own climax. Your whole body shakes and pussy clenches down on him, trying to milk every last drop of cum out of him. With a few sloppy thrusts, he climaxes inside you, painting your insides white with his cum. Your 2nd orgasm falters off as you aren’t as close, when you feel him pull out, your legs shake, needing him to finish what he started. You pant in place aching to feel your release. You look up at Jeongin, your boyfriend who watched his best friend just dump his load into you.

“Sit on my face.” It’s all he says, it's all Jeongin needs to say. He couldn’t cum, not when your pussy was dripping with Hyunjin’s cum. He needed to taste. When he finally scoots down the bed low enough for you to straddle his face and hold the headboard for support. He gives your ass a hard slap, gripping your hips down to smother his face, he was going to eat you out like you were his last meal. Without another second to spare, his tongue is dipping in and out between your folds, Hyunjin’s cum pouring onto his tongue. Lapping every drop into his mouth like you were spring water in the desert.

Hyunjin had been watching this play out. Trying to catch his breath but he’s hard again, he can’t ignore the burning desire in his stomach to suck Jeongin off right now, when would he ever get another opportunity like this again? He makes his way back onto the bed push Jeongins legs apart, before settling down right between them just like he had done to you earlier. You look over your shoulder catching a glance before Hyunjin is spitting on your boyfriend’s cock to start stroking him. You had a burning feeling in your stomach recalling back to that night Innie fucked you on the couch remembering the fever flush that came over you seeing the way Hyunjin drank the image up. You brought back to reality when Jeongin groans into your pussy, overwhelmed by the feeling of Hyunjin taking him all the way down his throat. Jeongin snaps his hips up causing Hyunjin to gag and tighten his throat around him, you grind your hips into his mouth looking down at him while leaving another harsh smack across your ass.

You’re close to cumming again, your hand fisted in Innie’s hair while he moans into your pussy. He picks up the speed rapidly flicking his tongue on your clit, your thighs hurting from both the approaching orgasm and keeping yourself up from suffocating your boyfriend. Hyunjin is sloppily sucking your boyfriend off, pulling off for a moment to lick at his balls before flattening his tongue, and licking a long stripe from his balls to his tip. You once again feel your orgasm washing over you and cum shakily down on Jeongins face, he gleefully takes your hips in his hand helping you ride out his orgasm. You pull yourself shortly after to keep yourself from falling into full overstimulation, Hyunjin still lies between your boyfriend's legs, bringing Jeongin close to his own orgasm. Jeongin lifts his head up just enough to watch him shove Hyunjin’s head further down on his cock once more, holding him in place while he empties himself into his mouth. Out of breath, Innie lays there while Hyunjin slowly pulls his mouth off, letting Jeongins cum drip down out of his mouth back into his cock.

Panting, out of breath laying next to Jeongin, you hug his arm leaning your head on his shoulder. He smooths your hair down kissing your forehead muttering an ‘I love you’. The bed shifts when you feel Hyunjin lie next to you, you're all worn out, tired, and sore. Jeongin is the first to move with shaky legs, he makes his way to the bathroom to run a bath for you. Hyunjin is holding you in his arms, his head is pressed into your shoulder.

“I love you… I love you both so much… this won’t ruin us right?”

You roll over in his arms to look at him, Hyunjin had tears welling in his eyes. You knew him better than anyone else, his efforts to find a home in someone else’s body were all efforts made in a vain mindset, that sex could somehow fix the hole he had in his heart. He was always going to be in love with you, in love with you both. His heart held as much love for you as it did for Jeongin, someone he was never quite sure would ever reciprocate the love in the same way.

“No, this changes some things but it’ll never ruin us. Come on, let's shower, we can talk things over in the morning. For now, we can hold on to this moment.”

A tear slips past, you wipe the tear away from his cheek rubbing a soothing thumb over his face. Hyunjin walks to the bathroom first, Jeongin comes back out for a moment.

“Baby, I think you’re gonna have to help me to the bathroom. My legs feel like jello.” You tell Jeongin as laughs, he’s still hard so his erection still stands tall when he stands in front of you.

“I got you,” He picks you up bridal style, you wrap your arms around his neck. He stops for a moment with you like this. You cup his face and kiss him, a sweet one, a reassurance that you love him. He presses his forehead to yours, “I have so many mixed emotions right now… but I know… I need you both… more then ever.”

“I’m right there with you. Now, let's shower please, I’m begging you.”

After having both of them hold you up in the shower to wash, a cooperative effort to clean up the mess you left behind in the bed, you finally settle under the new sheets and comforter after having to ask the hotel housekeeping for shamefully. You wore one of the many band t-shirts Jeongin had, it was just the right amount of worn to feel soft against hot skin. Hyunjin grabbed spare clothes from his room before returning to the shared room for some much-needed cuddling and aftercare. You’d fall asleep sandwiched between the two of them, Hyunjin pressed to your back and your head on Jeongins chest.

You wake up the next morning to your phone blowing up, Hyunjin and Jeongin both passed out in a comatose sleep. You scramble across the bed to reach the dresser.

"Hello?" You ask groggily.

"Where are you and where is the other half of this band? I'm with the rest at the record companies office and the meeting is in 20 minutes." Yasu's voice is like a splash cold water to your face.

"Oh FUCk-" Your shoving the other two awake, shouting something about meeting and company. They both drop to the floor scrambling to find clothes.

"They'll be there soon maybe 10 minutes, 15 at most." You say as you watch the flee out the door.

"I'll try to stall till they get here... you said "they"... did you?..."

"I took your advice... and that's all I'll say."

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