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eccentricallygothic · 7 months ago

Text

Mine.

Description: Embry is secure in your relationship, but you are too perfect for anyone to be able to resist your attractiveness.

Pairing: Alpha!Embry Call | Omega!Reader.

Warning(s): Slight insecurity, jealousy, Embry is in LOVE, reader is kind of a dummy, kissing, possessiveness, slight top reader, manhandling, hair pulling, groping, pinching, unprotected p-in-v, smut with plot I am afraid, rubbing/grinding, dick riding, doggy style, missionary, imprinting and a/b/o stuff, breeding kink, dirty talk, d/s dynamics (it's me), overstimulation. MDNI.

Type: Request, here.

. . .

“Gee, it's hot today” Leah huffs as she approaches Emily's dining table whilst tugging down her tank top with one hand and fanning herself with the other. “Even by my standards.” Some of you are already sitting down and the rest are divided in little groups that tinker about in the pack leader's house. A few groans of agreement sound around the table and you snort, your fingers busy with tuning your guitar. “It's literally like I am on fire” she gulps down the icy lemonade your undisputed hostess has prepared for the lot of you. “Fuck, I am so hot” she pinches the material of her tanktop before tugging it back and forth to try and bring herself some solace.

You shrug, eyes set on the pegs that you twist and adjust as you lean some of your body weight onto your mate who reclines on his own chair beside you and munches on a hot muffin, unbothered by your doing so. He has told you time and time again that he likes it, actually. “Agreed” you do not notice how the table goes silent and everyone turns to look at you. Even Leah's eyes widen a bit though this is nothing new. You're plagued with the curse of being an effortless flirt. Your mate had his fair share of (pleasant) surprises in the beginning and often even mistook what was a mere response to you for you being bold. “Very hot” your eyes briefly bounce from the machine heads to scan over her tense form and the female in question flushes.

Paul and Jake howl in the crass way typical to them and the others chuckle.

“See, you're doing it again!” Seth points an accusatory finger at you and you just snort before you shake your head and look down at your guitar again.

“No, I am not” it is always an argument between others, especially Seth, and you that you subconsciously flirt. “It's a fact” barks sound around the table once more and you scoff at them, muttering reassurances to yourself that you only meant to compliment her.

“I mean, you're not so bad yourself, sparkle” you roll your eyes at Jared's lewd smirk and his use of the corny ass nickname the pack has chosen for you.

Your beautiful fur is so shiny that it sparkles as though it has been dusted with glitter, hence the name.

“Dude” Jake chimes in. “Totally agreed. You're both totally hot” you don't look up to the nods of approval that follow.

“Like, excuse my French or whatever but,” uh oh, it's never good when Paul starts a sentence like that. He waves both his hands as he tilts his head back, adding heavy moments of suspense to his intentional silence. “I wouldn't say no to a little Leah and sparkle salad” Seth retches as his features scrunch in disgust but most of the other guys howl in agreement and cheer. You feel Embry stiffen beside you but he keeps his composure and hides his disapproval into the soft muffin because he knows Paul well enough to know that this is one of his intentional attempts at eliciting a reaction by being profane. He loves to provoke until it's his turn.

“Dude!” Seth groans, one hand on his stomach. “Why are you like this?!” His eyes scrunch. “Ugh!”

“Would be a sight to behold though—” Quill is cut off by Sam.

“Hey!” The Leader calls out across the table in his heavy and authoritative voice when his fiance gently nudges his shoulder to get the horndogs to stop. They are a family, yes, but an Alpha's patience isn't to be toyed with especially if his mate is in question. “That's enough” though it is not nearly as scary as Sam can get since there is a small smile on his own face, everyone still instantly shuts up all the same.

You are not really bothered because you only have eyes for your dear Alpha who has subconsciously snuck an arm around your back to feel you even closer to yourself. You finish up with your guitar and although reluctant, play a couple tunes upon Emily's request and everyone takes turns singing snippets that fit the melodies your fingers produce.

Hours pass and it is only after dinner that you all set out for your own homes. “So long, hottie~” Embry and you are already a couple feet away from Sam and Emily's house, hand in hand while he carries your guitar for you, when you hear Paul and Jake whistle from behind.

You snicker but don't look back and instead raise your free hand to wave them goodbye before the two of you take the turn that leads to your own house.

The two of you walk in the comfortable silence of your dynamic for half of the way, relaxing in each other's presence after a stimulating day as your entwined fingers rock back and forth. It is only when the house appears in your line of sight after another turn and walking past a couple heavy trees when Embry speaks up, pondering and calculating with his words.

“They're too much.”

You chuckle and lean into him a little. “Or maybe…” You shrug before glancing at him. “It’s me” a teasing smile tugs at your lips as his eyebrows furrow.

Ever the loving and supportive mate and lover, Embry rushes to reassure you. “No, no, baby” he lightly shakes his head for emphasis. “All you did was compliment her, angel. It's not you” his fingers tighten over yours in earnest.

“Yeah?” You raise a playful eyebrow, amused.

“Yeah” he chooses to ignore it because he knows what you're trying to do and since he swears that he is not a territorial jerk, he refuses to give in. He is not ‘like the other Alphas’, if you will. “The guys just…” He carefully chooses his words. “They're—”

“You do know that I am yours, right? No matter what anyone says on purpose or accident, you are the only one I want and you are the only one my heart belongs to” you cradle his hand that you hold to your heart as you ascend the steps to your house.

Usually, he doesn't even let it come to this. “Yeah…” But he needs it from time to time even if he assures you that he doesn't, granted how you steal the very air from everyone in the most natural of states.

“Yeah?” You stop to stare at him, one eyebrow raised and a hand curled around the door handle but you don't open it just yet, your smile deepening into a smirk.

You can hear his inward groan. “Yes” his red ears tell you everything you need to know. Gosh, you love how he isn't a typical violent, brooding and impulsive Alpha like Paul or some others you know. “Let's just—” you interrupt his weak attempt at reassurance with a kiss.

You pull back just for a second to look at him.

“You don't have to do this because of that, you know? It's really fine. It's not your fault the guys are the way they are and I know you don't mean it like that because—” you interrupt his ramblings with a click of your tongue.

You appreciate Embry's understanding nature, but you cannot help the thrill you feel when he gets possessive or insecure over you.

It makes you feel wanted and treasured.

“You talk too much sometimes, you know?” Your mouth collides into his and your lips melt against his, the fluttering warm feeling making him groan into the kisses that grow heated with the passing second. You peel the guitar off of him as you pull him through the threshold and walk him into the couch while passionately kissing him after kicking the door closed with one heel. You put a heavy hand on his nape to keep him from digressing again. It does not actually do much to affect him but he lets you have your way, a whimper leaving him when you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip.

“I— I—” he blinks to get a grip of himself when you pull away, his heavy pants only firing you up even more because of how worked up he looks and feels. Your omega heat rushes to their confines in different pockets of your body and as the first of your pearly slick trickles down your thigh, you begin to push at his chest and keep at it until his heavy form lands on the couch. “Baby, it's really—” you crawl his huge body and his hands instantly dart to your legs to feel and grope your tender skin. You moan and grind against his erection.

You can feel he is holding back and that only provokes you even more.

You shush him by ghosting a seductive finger over his lips. His Adam's apple violently bobs at you doing so. “Haven't done that in a while, have I?” Your whisper is the kind of whisper that makes blood rush to his cock and his hips lift to find relief against yours. “So allow me…” You lower yourself until your lips touch the area under his nose and you give him a chaste kiss before moving down to his pink lips. Embry whimpers out a growl and his fingers flex over your thighs before snaking their way to your ass. Your lips leave sloppy kisses along his jaw and you soon reach his ear to let out a sensual little breath that always churns all his gears. “To remind you” he inaudibly curses as his erection twitches against your spread core and he squeezes your ass tightly.

“Y- You don't have to…” He looks for ways to reason with you but you take it away by nipping at his earlobe before trapping it between your lips and pulling a good suck out of it. You hum as your slick further gushes down your inner thighs and you feel it pool between your spread legs.

He may not be an Alpha who loses his head to insecurity but the rare occasion he does or is made to by you is always so fun.

“Oh, but I want to, babe” you say and he lets out a moan at the purr that comes out of your throat. You straddle his waist, your legs spread over him and your dripping core rubbing over his shorts. He firmly holds you against him and rocks against you to match your slow pace. You moan into his mouth as you kiss him and pull at the hem of his tank top. Your fingers curl around it and you pull the thin material off of his beautifully tan and sculpted body, letting it fall somewhere behind him. The two of you gasp and pant into your fevered kisses as you press your bodies against each other's to feel even closer. The heat sizzles out of his slightly damp skin due to how his blood boils and the way in which the bare skin sticks to yours makes you shudder and moan into his mouth that he fills with his tongue.

“Mmmm” your mouth deviates to his neck and you leave a trail of kisses and bites down to his collarbone and over his pectorals. His hands scramble to feel every inch of your exposed back and you whimper, rocking your hips as you drag your tongue along his chest and Embry growls loudly.

His resolve is weakening.

Good.

Your tongue continues to paint wet trails over Embry's torso while enjoying his woody sweat and he shivers when your mouth ghosts over his nubs and you peck them just slightly. He swears he doesn't like that kinda stuff but the erection doesn't lie. You cannot resist the impulse to bite his Adam's Apple next and you hear him hiss out a groan, his whole body tightening under yours, in sync with his needy cock. You feel his fingers dig into your spine as though he wants to pull you completely open for himself and you moan into the suck you have clamped on his neck. It gets increasingly hurried. It is messy. It is hot. And you are going to leave your mark on him for he is just as much yours as you are his.

The two of you seem drunk on one another's scent and pheromones, your bodies in a desperate need to devour one another's.

Your hand cups the tent in his shorts and you rub and massage it through the fabric. “Gosh, I love you so much” Embry huffs out a groan as he looks at you with eyes heavy with both arousal and affection. “You're so fuckin’ hot, baby” tingles flutter all over your abdomen and your lips part from how the grinding of your cunt feels against his rigid member. “So perfect.”

You smile mischievously as you push back on your heels and slide his shorts down his toned legs that he aids with a life of his hips. A loud smack sounds in the air because of the way cock springs up, hard and glistening with precum and collides with the taut muscles of his belly and your mouth waters at the way it twitches, your nose tingles because you can smell his arousal all the way from where you are and your petals flutter when fresh, pearly slick bubbles out of the tip.

But you are not quite done yet.

Embry's hand reaches to stroke himself but you click your tongue as if he is a misbehaving child and gently nudge it away with your own. As an Omega, you don't usually get like this despite everyone pining over you and your mate doting on you all the time and the Alpha's surprised gaze signals that he is equal parts taken aback and turned on with the knowledge that you are a small little thing compared to him, completely dependent upon his mercy if it comes to it, but his bestowing of a free hand upon you allows you to act liberally and even then you choose to serve him.

“Not so fast” your words are an entrancing lull. Embry huffs but keeps his hand away from his aching cock and you begin to sensually undress yourself. You are not a professional or anything so you don't have that kind of edge to it, but your heat tends to make the art of seduction a very effortless second nature matter to you. The Alpha growls and needily reaches for you instead this time around, his fingers kneading the soft skin of your hips as he begins to help you by pulling at your clothes. The primal action of his nature makes you yelp with a gasp at first but it melts into quiet giggles and then whimper-moans soon enough. Your tank top comes off first and his eyes take their sweet time enjoying your chest as you heave for him in response to his touch, your nipples pebbling because of how sensitive your body is. Embry looks at them hungrily and he swallows audibly, his heavy, wanton breaths weighing down his urge to wrap his mouth around them. Since he can't act on that impulse, his fingers hurriedly help you rid yourself of your pants and they pool around your ankles before you kick them away.

You smirk to yourself as you see the glazed look on his face, his cock twitching on his belly as his heavy chest heaves with want. The Alpha's dark eyes trace the curves of your hips and follow the shape of your waist until he finds your dripping cunt that shines with slick.

“Fuck” Embry groans and his hips jerk in sync with his twitching erection. “Fuck, baby” he looks like he is going to come just by looking at you.

Which means he is getting desperate.

Good.

“Tsk” letting out an amused snort, you place your smaller hands against his broad shoulders to push them back as his huge form is looming in your direction and as he moves back, you move forwards until you have climbed him and the undersides of your thighs are straddling his laps, your feet on either side of him and knees bending to get as close to him as possible. You let your weight go because Embry's strong legs supporting it has never been an issue. As a matter of fact, he has confessed time and time again that he rather likes how you press down on him like his good little Omega baby.

“Mmm” your teeth clamp down on your lower lip as you begin to rub your soaked and thumping folds all over his erection and the way his eyes widen in shock and pleasure as your wet cunt glides over his cock only makes you grind harder in anticipation of what would come next.

“You like that, baby?” He is still an Alpha, he needs to assert himself somehow so his wolf can remain assured of its ownership and power over you.

“Mmm, Alpha, you're so good!” It only takes a few grinds and you're cumming, your walls clenching and your slick dripping onto his belly and thighs. “Fuck” you moan out a curse of your own though you know he doesn't like you using that kind of language when he is in his Alpha space, your cunt pulsates with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You sit on his thighs and lean back on your hands as you catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed and little whines leaving you from his dick slightly grazing against your petals and twitching. Your heat completely takes over at that point and your body becomes a living inferno.

You aren't like most people or Omegas. Your body reaches its optimum only after you have cum once. Because you love to chase and be made to find your release through the stinging thumps and frustration of overstimulation.

You feel Embry's cock squish against your slick drenched thigh and you look down at it. His growing knot is so big that it seems to rest over your tender lap like a dangerous serpent. “Baby” his hands trace along your hips and your waist, his thumbs tracing your sides. “Can I?”

He is cracking.

And though your nature grows the haze of submissiveness in your mind, you only rock your ass harder on his girth.

You can't say anything but just stare down at him like you are entranced, a primal silence engulfing you where it is only instinct and nothing else. Your heart pounds in your ears. It's like a thousand thoughts bolt around in your brain all at once and yet your mind holds onto each one for eternities. Need pulls at your limbs from every direction.

“I need to feel you, baby” he pleads and you just wordlessly nod, one hand flying to clutch his shoulder tightly. Embry's eyes light up, his hands instantly lifting your ass and sliding your cunt down the length of his cock.

Just to make you cry out, he jerks his cock into you with a jab of his hips, the sensation making him let out a groan and you a mewl, the omega in you shuddering from the sensitivity and yet obediently taking him. Your walls flutter as you feel yourself stretch to fit his girth and you look down to see how your flesh takes him. His cock fills you to the brim and you are filled with an indescribable sensation of fullness that only Embry can give you, the velvet of your insides stirring against his hard girth.

In mere moments, you're so full that you can't decide whether it is good or painful. Perhaps both. Your core is so wet that you can feel his cock drown in your slick because of the sloshing sounds your riding it -which is essentially Embry carefully moving you about it because his cock is not a joke to accommodate- makes. When you are comfortable, you begin to speed up your movements with the passing second, your ears and heart pounding with nearly unbearable fireballs running wild in your blood.

“Gosh” Embry pants and a gasp leaves him when you slide down a certain way and knock the breath right out of him, your ass bouncing against his heavy sack and the visual of your boobs jumping doesn't help him. You know you must be a sight to look at. Your knees rock into his toned thighs and you clutch his hard shoulders, panting like a crazed animal as you wince from the painful pleasure. It wouldn't be the first time that you transformed mid fuck because it was too much for you to handle. “Look at you” he groans out raspily, his throat parched. “So fucking beautiful, angel” his long fingers grip your ass to keep you on the rhythm even if your Omega sensitivity makes you falter because some thrusts often get too much for you and your form lops to the side. His hands run all over your hips, your stomach, your breasts and the back of your head, his trimmed nails feeling your delicate nape before they reach to tangle in your locks and your scalp stings from the gentle tug.

Your body is afloat on pheromone and sensation alike, your skin melts into Embry's golden touch that desperately feels every inch of your body. His grips on you turn harsher when your walls pulsate around him and the way he pulls you to him makes your entrance seethe out bubbling pearly slick down his cock, the angel puddle pooling down on his balls. Every movement sends sparks of pleasure through your core and up your spine.

“Alpha!” Your teeth sink into your tongue because of how you tense in response to his fingers cupping your mound before his rough thumb tickles your clit. Your droopy eyes fly open as you let yourself feel every inch of him and every flicker of pleasure that your body sends to your brain. “Oh my Goshhh” you whimper out his name as you cum once more, the muscles of your thighs convulsing from the tightly shut dam that trembles free in your loins. Your cunt clamps around his cock and you feel him groan out at the feeling of his own high approaching.

His resolve finally snaps at the feeling of your hot orgasm and he lets out a growl so loud it nearly shakes the walls of the house. Your fucked out brain is too dazed to catch up with how he spins you around on his cock and moves the two of you so you're kneeling in front of the living room coffee table. Your elbows find the tabletop and his hands hook under your hips. He presses his cock into you and pulls your ass back and up so that his cock buries itself to the hilt in your dripping pussy. You feel it push against the swollen, reluctant walls of your cunt and a scream rips from your lips at the sensation.

Embry pulls out and slams himself back in with a loud slap of skin against skin. His hand comes down on your ass cheek with a loud slap that makes you cry out, your cunt tries to close itself against him.

“Yes, Alpha!” Yet you mewl, wanting more. “Gimme your cum, please!” You tilt your head to look back at him with hazy eyes to urge him on with a lustful widening of your mouth and he stares back with his darkened and blown out eyes.

You are a mess of pure wanton.

The Alpha lets out a hoarse groan as he watches the way you take his cock. “Fucking hell, baby” he pants. “You little tease” his hips jerk against yours and your breasts bounce over your arms as he fucks into your cunt. Your insides stiffen around his girth in a way that makes your head spin upon his tip fighting its way closer and closer to your cervix and you cannot help but let out a series of frenzied whimper-moans.

“Don't do it on purpose, do you?” His voice is primal and dangerous. “Is that why you provoke me into claiming you after? Huh, you little brat?!” He scolds and starts to firmly jack hammer his cock into your pussy, on the verge of his own climax and so fast that you almost feel like you're on the edge of passing out from the sensory overload.

It doesn't matter if his words are true or not.

They always get the both of you off.

And when an Alpha and Omega are left to their devices, the sex is the only thing that has to make sense.

And that it does.

So much.

“You're going to milk me dry, my little Omega slut” Embry pants out a guttural order and you moan at how he snakes a ripped arm to the front of your body and slams you back into his toned chest. Your head falls back on his shoulder and you faintly register his fingers feeling up the expanse of your neck. He pounds into you so hard it feels as though he is hitting your uterus with every snap of his hips, your smaller body bouncing on his cock like a straw doll with each thrust. His whole cock sheaths balls deep into your tight slick coated walls before he pulls out all the way until his tip is barely probing you. Your slick drips from where you two are connected down to the both of your thighs and knees. He grabs your hair and tilts your head until your body arches in the way he likes and your nipples point up at the ceiling from the wave of excitement and arousal that an imaginative construction of the visual of your bodies washes over you. “You're mine, you hear me?” He snarls as your marked mating gland comes to light and he wraps your hair around his fingers to keep it out of his way. Embry's mouth clamps down onto the canine scarred patch and he suckles at it like a starved predator, his sharp teeth fitting right into the crevices they created once upon a time ago. Your whole body jolts from the impact and you clench.

Fuck, it feels good.

“Ohhh—” your body curves outwards and you cry out in ecstacy. “Yes! Yours!” You moan out with a throaty voice. “Only yours, Alpha!” you tremble and send vibrations down his cock as a result, the sensation making him growl into your mating gland and lighting you up all over again.

“I'm going to fill you up with my cum until your pretty little pussy it so stuffed it can't take or feel anymore” he growls while trapping your waist between his arms, the confinement causing your insides to feel his cock even more vividly and you cannot help but scream for mercy as he bends the both of you over the tabletop to fuck you into the piece of furniture, roughly pushing one of your legs up so it hangs over the edge closest to you and thus giving him even deeper access against your cervix.

But that's the best thing about having the anatomy of an Omega, it doesn't hurt when he fucks into your womb. Matter of fact, your kind is made to take cocks like that without any kind of damage. And it feels fucking amazing.

Your brain cannot think anymore. All you can do is feel as your eyes flutter close from the dignity numbing fuck.

Your mind is completely taken over by him as he bruises up your claim mark. It has a feeling of its own. When he gets to toying with it, he doesn't have to tickle your clit anymore because his touching your mating gland elicits such sensations in your body that they heat your clit up as if it's being rubbed silly with a tangible object though it's actually not.

Embry does not relent until he has cum inside of you a number of times, your head being too fucked out and fuzzy to keep track. His hot seed fills you up so much that it spills out of you true to his promise. You are completely drained when he finishes with you and you hang from the table limply, his cock still pulsing inside of your exhausted cunt. You think it's over and so you begin to dimly yearn for the warmth of the bath he will run you now.

Well.

Jokes on poor little you.

“What?” He chuckles as he turns you on his fat knot once more so you face him, his fingers grabbing a handful of your slick and cum covered ass once more. “Done already, are we?” You numbly blink up at him, brain out of commission.

“H- Huh?” You blink to try and clear your neon vision, trembling hands blindly tapping about for him when he patiently waits for you to respond.

He chuckles and effortlessly lifts you off the table, his knot swollen between your walls in a bittersweet tuck.

“Up we go, baby” you feel his hands run up your thighs and your back before he walks towards the bedroom while holding you in his arms and on his cock. You moan as his dick rubs against your walls because of the movement, your pussy dripping your mixed juices all over the place. Each step makes his cock stir your stinging insides.

“Shit” Embry curses under his breath at the sight of your shivering body. “Your cunt is still so wet and tight, baby” his fingers slip away from your ass as he plops you down on the bed and his cock slips out of your cunt, the empty feeling of loss making you whine despite the overstimulation. “So pretty and raw pink too” he lets out a chuckle, dark eyes watching you while his long fingers caress his cock. It's his turn to tease now. Your cum oozes out of you in a stream and coats the mattress in a pearlescent puddle as you cannot do much but lay there panting like a bitch in heat -which you are-, your legs dangling from the edge of the bed, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Maybe children will finally wise you up, huh baby?” He says as he turns to get you some water from the bedside table. “And just maybe, you won't ‘unintentionally’ flirt like a clumsy little Omega baby then” realization hits you like a gong.

He is only replenishing you for…

Though you whimper and pout up at him, too submissive to complain, you feel tiny flames of excitement come to life within you once more.

Fuck.

You are obedient in how he pushes you further up on the bed so he can crawl over you like the predator he is. And he spreads your legs open to make you completely and comfortably accessible to himself because you got a long night to go. Embry needs to make you marked and loud enough for everyone to see tomorrow and hear tonight just who you belong to.

Next his manly hands move your ankles to his shoulders and he pats your petals with his heavy tip to make your fleshy folds shrivel and tremble in the way he likes, the thumping bringing them back into commissioner. Soon after, his cock sinks into you once more and he takes a hold of your sticky thighs so he can do you how he likes best. He slowly begins to fuck into you and his coarse hands squeeze your breasts and his fingers twist your nipples to ‘milk’ you for his future pups, or so he tells you. Your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought.

The wolf is out.

And he is here to play.

. . .

Fun fact, the Leah thing happened irl where I accidentally said that to one of my female teachers lmfao.

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01zfan · 3 months ago

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glasses pt. 3

nerd!eunseok x reader | 7.5k words

the third installment to a well liked seriez. this couple is loved by me and so many other people. thank you to my dearie who commissioned me to write this. i got a little carried away (per usual). i hope it's to your liking heh and sorry for making oyu wait forever.

contains: eunseok plotting on the reader a lil, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving)

glasses: one | two | three

You didn’t tell Yunjin and Giselle about your visit to Eunseok’s until two weeks later. When you told them to guess what happened when you went over to his place after class they faked contemplation before answering in a second.

“He played on his computer while you were whoring out on his bed.” Giselle said.

“And he didn't even notice?” Yunjin added.

You had smug look on your face and in a second Giselle and Yunjin were looking at you with wide eyes. They leaned forward over their lunch trays to your side of the booth as you leaned backwards. You crossed your arms and Giselle and Yunjin looked to eachother before looking back to you.

“You’re fucking lying.” Giselle said.

“There’s no way.” Yunjin says.

You shrug to your friends skeptical faces, and then they were gasping so loud you had to preemptively shush them with a finger to your lips.

“You actually fucked him?” Giselle asks.

Giselle’s eyebrows are raised like she can’t quite believe it. Something about your friends doubting the idea of you and Eunseok getting together makes you want to defend him more. You remember Giselle and Yunjin saying he didn’t have it in him, that he didn’t like you to begin with.

“He actually fucked me.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Yes you may have been playing it up to your friends. By your groups standards, you were definitely the one who fucked him. He was the one who came first (both times), the one you made the move on, the one you instructed. But they were doubting you and the man you had grown fond of. Stretching the truth a little wasn’t a problem. Eunseok was desperate to please and was red all the way down to his stomach, and he genuinely looked mortified when he realized you didn’t finish. He was a person after all, and he was one of the few men you felt fond of outside the idea of having sex. He was so oblivious to your advances but rose to the challenge as soon as he could. You had your fun with him, and seeing the shocked looks and slacked jaws of your friends made you laugh.

“No fucking way.” Giselle said.

You nodded your head and threw up your hands to really sell it. Giselle and Yunjin were giggling like schoolgirls in front of you repeating how they didn’t know he had it in him. You spared them the details, like his friends hearing him moan over voice chat and how he was packing underneath all those baggy clothes. They were still reeling off the fact that you made it past putting out signals and him missing every single one.

“Have you seen him since?” Yunjin asked.

That’s when you shake your head. Before you can tell your friends that you haven’t been sitting in the same spot in class for two weeks or have been skipping the class all together, Yunjin and Giselle both look over your shoulder before tilting their heads to the side. Giselle looks at you and smiles, Yunjin starts looking at her plate.

“He’s coming over here.” Yunjin says under her breath.

You turn your body in the booth seat, desperately trying to not look over your shoulder but to also confirm who the he is. Certainly it’s not the same he who you were talking about seconds ago. He never comes to the cafe, instead cooking the same meal over and over in his dorm or ordering takeout. The only time you’ve seen him eating in the cafe was on the rare occasion he would join his friend.

But Eunseok was alone. He was alone and taking strides towards your lunch table, hand gripping the strap of his backpack. You stayed still in your seat, fulling eyeing him before turning to face your friends.

“Is he actually coming over here?” You ask, confused.

Although you’ve talked about Eunseok plenty to Giselle and Yunjin, they’ve never met. At most, they had built a relationship of crossing paths and awkward snatches of conversation. You walking with Giselle and Yunjin and calling out to Eunseok just to wave at him. Your unamused friends waving to not be rude and Eunseok waving back because he didn’t know what else to do. Trying to rope him into a conversation with your friends where he would avoid eye contact before making up a terrible excuse about needing to go to his next class.

Your friends had seen you a couple times before or after class when you’d be bothering Eunseok. You’re almost certain they’ve never exchanged words beyond the awkward hey and Eunseok avoiding eye contact. They’d tell him you that Eunseok was weird, but you’d tell him he was just shy. Once you really get to know him he’s a sweetheart, just a sweetheart who avoids conversation whenever he can. So it’s weird, seeing him barrel towards a conversation he doesn’t have to have with new people he’s barely met. But he’s determined, not stopping as Giselle nods her head to your question.

“He’s coming over here.” Giselle said.

Then, as if on cue, Eunseok’s steps started to falter. People pass by him, on their way back to the food for seconds or heading outside of the dining hall altogether. You, Yunjin, and Giselle don’t speak. Three pairs of eyes stare at him, you’re all still watching his next move. His steps get a little slower, Eunseok turns to nod to someone when they apologize for bumping into him.

A quick glance backwards showed that he hesitated, then looked around, then he started moving with the traffic of people leaving to make a beeline for the vending machines.

“He’s no longer coming over here.” Yunjin said.

You waved your hands in front of your friends quickly, trying to get their attention away from Eunseok and back at you. Now it was you leaning over the table, making them come forward to hear you.

“That’s because you guys are staring at him.” You seethe underneath your breath.

Giselle further proved your point by carelessly looking over your shoulder, staring at Eunseok looking at the terribly curated selection of chips and snacks. After a second she’s already seen enough, looking at you.

“He’s fake browsing the vending machine.” She deadpans.

Yunjin laughs, finally starting to eat her food. She spares a less obvious glance over her shoulder, a smile on her lips when she turns back to you.

“I think he’s waiting for you.” She says.

You swear you can see Eunseok’s ears turn pink as he presses his hand to the glass of the vending machine. He leans close, tilting his head and moving like he’s really trying to sell the fact that he’s considering buying something. You feel embarrassed that you find him obviously waiting so cute, even when your friends look at you like they can’t believe it. There’s no way the man that allegedly put it down on you two weeks ago is too afraid to walk over and say hi.

“Watch my stuff for me, please?” You ask your friends.

Yunjin and Giselle both ooh and aah at you quietly as you get up from the table. You have to wave your hands for them to be quiet again, and you start walking towards Eunseok. His back is turned towards you, and you know your appearance doesn’t matter. Whatever you do would have him blushing and avoiding eye contact all the same. Still, you find yourself making sure your shirt is falling just right on your body, your hair is laying the way it’s supposed to, and you’re clearing your throat to get ready to talk.

When you make it to the vending machine, Eunseok is still fake browsing. He’s looking at nothing but everything at the same time, pretending like you didn’t surprise him even though he jumps in his skin when he catches you in the reflection of the glass. The fluorescent lighting in the machine shows your reflection, and you can see Eunseok quickly glance to the side before you do the same thing. You find yourself starting to fake browse too, running over the assortment of snacks you don’t even like.

People leaving the dining hall pass behind the two of you. No one is coming up to the machine, neither of you are making a purchase. Just looking past the glass, waiting for the other to say something first.

“I didn’t see you at class today.” Eunseok says.

The Oreo’s look tempting. You don’t remember the last time you tried Sun Chips.

“Just felt like playing hooky I guess.” You say.

You’re both still locked in on the vending machines. Atleast you don’t have to worry about a line, because no one bothers to waste their time or money to get stale snacks. They also don’t want to gamble either, because these machines are notorious for stealing your cash and not giving you anything in return. You still have the five dollar meal voucher from the lunch lady when it ate your money your first year. But still, maybe an expired Cliff Bar is worth it.

“You didn’t miss much.” Eunseok says. “Just the usual lecture stuff. There’s an assignment due tomorrow, though.”

You hum in acknowledgment, as if you both don’t know that you’ve already seen it. Eunseok has stated the obvious, because you know that he knows you’re not helpless in that class. The Orbit Gum tablets are calling your name in the bottom row. You bring your fingers over the button, before you can take the gamble and insert your five dollar bill you change your mind again.

“Wanna come over?” Eunseok asks.

Your hand freezes. The invitation makes you turn towards Eunseok, who’s still mindlessly staring ahead. You have never been on the receiving end of an invitation from him. Whenever you’ve ended up at his apartment it’s always been you inviting yourself over, taking advantage of the fact that he’s never told you no. Two weeks ago you told yourself you’d take a step back from being overbearing. You might’ve clung to him too hard, bothered him too much in class when he was trying to focus. Interrupting his games too woo him, invading his space since the semester started, disrupting the peace he created for himself.

Hearing that he wants you over is different. Knowing that he has enjoyed you sitting on his bed and bothering him makes you feel like you’ve done something right. Another thing you find comforting is that Eunseok still stares forward, pretending like you’re not there. He’s nervous too, but you’ve never said no to him either.

You know Giselle and Yunjin are watching. You’re sure they’re full on peering over the edge of the booth, shamelessly looking to see what the nerd is saying to their bestfriend. You have something to maintain with them and Eunseok alike, you’re not sure what but you must maintain it. So even when you feel like your chest is about to explode you move forward to be in his line of sight, peering up at him.

His hand is tight around his backpack strap again, you can see the blush across his cheeks. Looking at his glasses takes you back to when they were resting on your flushed face, obscuring your vision while he fixed them crooked with shaking wet hands. You admire that he holds eye contact with you, even through him clearing his throat and his pupils shaking.

“Why do you want me to come over?” You ask.

Eunseok pushes his frames up with his other hand. You have to cross your arms to hide the fact you’re pinching your sides in an attempt to ground yourself. Why are you so much more nervous now than you were on the edge of his bed two weeks ago? The lack of contact since then must be the reason. The fact that you two are both trying to seem unbothered while clearly being bothered must also be another reason. Giselle and Yunjin watching just a few feet away is the terrible cherry on top.

“I got a drone.” He says.

When you accepted Eunseok’s invitation and half-assed reason for wanting you over you bounded back to the table like nothing happened. They both imitated how Eunseok was apparently shaking like a leaf while you remained calm and collected. You told them that Eunseok wanted to show you his new drone and they laughed. They laughed at the both of you, because Eunseok was inviting a pretty girl over to play with his new toy and they laughed at you because you accepted it. Giselle remained steadfast in her belief that you were going over there just to play with his drone. Yunjin told you that he wasn’t going to make a move. You excused yourself from dinner quickly, saying you were full before they could get another word in.

Eunseok was already home by the time you made it to his apartment. You had to take a detour to your place, then a detour to the side of his building to give yourself an impromptu pep talk. There was something riding on you meeting this time after two weeks of radio silence. Things felt less at stake when Eunseok didn’t know or pretended to not know what you wanted from him. Now that you were knocking on his door after sex and two weeks of pretending like the sex didn’t happen you were nervous.

Usually you had to wait outside his door. He always acted like you were going to recant your invitation, and you had to wait for a break in his games for him to come to you. This time when you knocked on the door you heard things moving, and his rushed steps on the other side. He opened the door a crack and then all the way, presenting his apartment to you like you hadn’t seen it before.

“You came quick.” Eunseok says.

“I really wanted to see your drone.” You reply.

It’s hard to sound enthusiastic. You’ve been overthinking since the dining hall and you’re not entirely sure the drone even exists. You’re just looking at Eunseok looking at you, nodding before he moves out of the way to let you into the apartment.

When he lets you inside, the first thing you notice is the couch. The first piece of non-bed and non-loveseat furniture takes up space in the living room and the television sits on an actual stand instead of the floor. There’s a coffee table too, another place people can eat food on besides standing at the counter in the kitchen or his gaming desk.

“It’s like a real person lives here now, Seok.” You say when he closes the door behind you.

Eunseok takes the teasing with a distracted laugh. He’s almost fidgety navigating his space, walking around in bee lines instead of his usual straight path. He walks around you, then the couch, then the coffee table, then his kitchen before he makes it to the counter. You watched his nervous path, all the way until he made it to his drone.

He looked at his newest toy before looking to you, his fingers tapping on the table. He wanted you to say something, you’re sure of it. The drone is cool, and you can tell Eunseok thinks it’s cool too by the way he set it up on his kitchen counter so it’d be the first thing you’d see. He made sure to turn it so the front was facing you, and the complex remote was right next to it. Like he was trying to tempt you to reach forward and grab the remote without asking.

“You actually got a drone.” You say.

Eunseok nods before reaching for the remote. He’s pushing on knobs and levers, and almost instantly the drone starts hovering above the kitchen counter. You back up by instinct but Eunseok starts smiling, so boyish and happy as he commands his newest toy around. He flies it around the small space of his kitchen, above and over him so he can turn around and follow it.

The two of you watch in silence and let the whirring of the fans fill the room. Eunseok is already an expert, flying it around the living room and avoiding the fan. He flies it around your tense body and over the couch. He follows it and you watch him, and he turns back to you to show you all of his tricks. He makes the drone flip and fly upside down, then he makes it move side to side quickly. He narrowly misses his new curtains and the corner of the television, but the drone is still in one piece when he makes it land perfectly in the middle of the coffee table. He sits down on the couch the same time the drone lands.

When he’s down he looks over the top of the couch to you, eyes bright with that smile still across his face. You smile with him, you can’t help it as you circle the couch to sit on the other end.

“That was cool.” Eunseok smiles even more, nodding his head proudly. “Why’d you get it?” You ask.

You try to sound as nonjudgemental as possible. You didn’t think of Eunseok to be a big spender, outside of the skins for the games he’s talked your ear off about and the manga collection lining his shelves. Outside of that, Eunseok is frugal. He buys things he needs, rarely thinking about what he wants. Sitting on a couch with space for more than one personal is already abnormal, and looking at his television rest on a TV stand rather than the floor is weird to. You also believe he doesn’t go outside nearly enough to get a drone. You think this is similar to an indoor cat getting a harness, or a man who values his life getting a motorcycle.

He shrugs his shoulders. He looks at the drone and then his remote.

“Just wanted it.” Eunseok messes with the controller a little more, gripping it in his hands before he offers it to you. “Wanna try?” He asks.

Eunseok has never been greedy of his belongings, he was never the type to hate sharing. But he’s never had to consider it. He’s lived alone his entire adult life, and even as a child he never had to share. Even when he offered you the remote it was awkward, half placing it in your lap before you even considered taking it.

“I don’t know how to fly a drone.” You say.

That got him excited. He’s scooting to your end of the couch quickly, he’s already ushering the remote into your hands. You take it and Eunseok’s thigh is touching yours, his hand is ghosting over yours as he points to a dial.

“Just push that.” Eunseok gets a little closer, his other hand comes close to actually touching yours. But he keeps a distance, pointing to the other side of the remote to a switch. “Press that at the same time.” He instructs.

This reminds you of something. You’re timid pressing both of the switches at the same time, afraid of doing something wrong. The fear of breaking Eunseok’s newest toy almost makes you want to hand the remote back to him, but he’s urging you to do it and arguably looks more excited for you to use his toy than he was. Even when the drone wobbles on the hover he’s smiling. He follows the drone up, and points at another lever below your finger.

“Press that to make it move side to side.”

You do as your told, and both you and Eunseok watch the shaky drone follow your movements. Left and right, a little diagonal when you accidentally take your finger off of the switch. Eunseok leans more into the couch as you get used to it, and his hand that was ghosting over yours goes to rest on the back of the couch behind your body. He gets a little closer to you and he pulls his leg into his lap.

You try to focus on the drone as you feel Eunseok start to caress your shoulder. His hand was hesitant at first, a clenched fist resting on the back of the couch before he finally spread out his palm and let his first finger touch you. He makes it hard for you to focus flying this thing when he fully clasps over your shoulder, rubbing it gently. He also makes it hard to focus because he pretends he’s not touching you, even when you can feel the sweat on his palm. Eunseok points at the drone with his other hand when it starts to get a little too shaky, then to the remote clutched in your hands.

“You have to press both of them at the same time.” He says.

You follow his instructions, until his drone comes closer and closer to the coffee table. The dismount is rough, you clench your teeth at terrible thought of breaking Eunseok’s precious drone. He doesn’t react the same. He continues holding your shoulder even when the controller for the drone rests awkwardly on your lap.

“Eunseok, I really like your drone. I really do think it’s cool but—”

“I want you to stay.” He says quickly.

“You want me to stay?” You ask.

There’s only been two times Eunseok has directly expressed that he wants you to continue invading his space. The first was right before he came in your mouth two weeks ago, and the second was now. He’s just desperate enough when he says it, his hands still holding your shoulder and the other moves to grab the remote from your lap. The words slipped out before he could figure out how to calmly say it, if he was going to say it at all.

“Why do you want me to stay?”

You watch Eunseok try so hard to keep eye contact with you. The way his flat hair is tucked underneath his glasses is cute. He’s due for a haircut too, because it’s getting to the length where it stats covering his eyes and he starts making subtle complaints about it.

“Because I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“You see me nearly everyday.” You push your luck further, trying to see how far you can get Eunseok to go. He already told you he wants you here, he’s already told you he missed you. You let your hand travel to his thigh, right where his basketball shorts rode up to reveal his skin. He’s warm already, he even freezes underneath your touch. “But I’m here. Right now.” You look at Eunseok, and see the rosy tint already appearing on his cheeks. You start tracing the beginning of a pattern, and you look at the crown of his head to see strands of hair sticking up. ”Seok.”

“Take your shirt off.”

He spoke fast. His order fell from his lips and stayed in the air, the two of you eyeing eachother trying to figure out if what you heard was real. Eunseok’s eyes are wide, yours are still blinking as you try to process what’s happening. Not only did he approach you in the dining hall he never eats at, and share things with you he’s never shared with you before, but now he’s telling you what to do when he’s always let you do things to him. Everything from today leaves your hand frozen on his leg and your lips parted.

You can tell Eunseok shocked himself. The blush on his neck gives him away, and the fact that he’s holding your shoulder makes it seem like it’s for comfort more than anything else. He’s going to recant his order at any moment, or profusely apologize for reading this situation wrong. Before his lip can twitch you let your hands go to the bottom of your shirt too fast, pulling it over your head and then tossing it to the ground. Your shirt ends up crumbled next to the drone on the coffee table, and you settle back into the couch. Eunseok’s arm is still along the back of the couch, and his eyes are even wider.

You’re sure you still match his frazzled expression. The same Eunseok that struggled to hold eye contact when you first met him is told you what to do. You put your hands on your knees and sit up straighter, doing everything except verbally telling him how ready you are to listen.

He’s slow getting up from the couch. He hesitates for a moment before standing in front of you. On his couch you tilt your head up until it’s uncomfortable, until you can him look down at you and push his glasses up with a timid hand. His body is so close to you. His baggy shirt frames the broadness of his shoulders, leaving everything else about him to the imagination. You’re in your bra and pants, looking up to him waiting for what’s next.

He reaches his hand to you but you stay still. He lets his hand go to the tip of your head, gliding down until he touches your cheek. His hand moves to your arm then your back, pulling you closer and you lean into his touch fully. He’s holding your shoulders, your eyes almost start to cross from keeping them open for so long. You don’t want to miss a single thing. The way he pulls at you, the way his shirt moves in front of you, the way he parts his lips just to close them before he brings himself to say something.

“Get on your knees.” He whispers.

He’s still looking at you wide eyed like he can’t believe the orders are falling from his mouth. He stutters, but you don’t hesitate when you start sliding off the couch. When Eunseok slowly puts the remote control down on the coffee table you listen, melting fully off the couch to rest on your knees. You’re timid getting into place, the most jumpy you’ve ever been in Eunseok’s presence.

He’s the same way he was in his gaming chair, nearly shaking as he settles in front of you. The scene is awkward. Eunseok doesn’t know what to do now that he’s lead you half naked to the ground, and you don’t want to do anything to scare him out of whatever mood he’s found himself in. From avoided looks in class to being ordered to your knees you’ve made it too far to ruin it now. You’re overexerting yourself to show Eunseok how good you’re being. Hands folded on top of your thighs, perfect posture, looking up at him with everything you got. The blush creeps to his cheeks as his glasses slide down his nose. You watch Eunseok’s hands wrap around the belt of his pants.

“Can I—”

You nod before he can even finish. You find yourself wanting him to not ask for a single thing. He lets out a silent exhale and starts undoing the perfect bow, the sound of the laces rubbing against eachother makes you shuffle on your knees. You let out an exhale when Eunseok lets go of the loose waistband, letting it pool at his feet. He wasn’t wearing underwear, the baggy shorts hid how he was really feeling about the situation. Your hands ball into fists and you try so hard to keep eye contact, but you can stop yourself from looking down at him.

The quick look up you can see Eunseok impatiently pushing his frames into place. He keeps his thumb underneath the rim and a hand slowly goes to his dick, shuffling forward to your kneeling body. His hand doesn’t leave his glasses until he brings them to your mouth, poking and pinching your sensitive lips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He says.

Your hands go to Eunseok’s thighs when he starts dragging his hand up and down his dick. He slows down you give him small nods, letting him know you hear him and you need to see it.

When he starts working his hand again, the sight is unreal. Seeing Eunseok give you a sneak peak of what he does in his time alone makes your mouth water. His hands were barely involved last time, nervously touching you only after you gave him explicit invitations to each time. Now he was skillfully jerking himself off, massaging his tip and letting precum glisten between his fingers.

“I keep thinking about you too.” You say.

Although it seems like you’re saying anything just to appease him, it’s the truth. Like you’re playing the worst game of poker ever, you don’t try to hide anything. You can’t decide if you’ll focus on his hand touching himself or his eyes staring down at you, so you do both. The desperation is palpable, the way you keep fixing your gaze is obvious. You remember how his glasses blurred your vision last time you were in this position with him, and he starts working his hand a little faster at the sound of your voice.

“You’re so pretty.” Eunseok’s head tilts back when he squeezes himself tighter and you want to cry from the loss of eye contact. He starts fucking his hand and you shuffle forward and touch him so he’ll look down at you again.

“You’re so hot.” His hand still plays with your mouth, two fingers working past your lips to press down hard on your tongue and bottom row of teeth. The intrusion makes saliva collect in your mouth and your jaw parts, making your words sound even more pathetic as they’re slightly gargled. “You don’t even know.” You say.

“You keep telling me that.” He groans quietly.

Eunseok looks down at you again and he presses harder. Your mouth is open the perfect amount, and he stops touching himself to hold his dick steady at the base. Before you can shuffle forward again he taps your lips with his leaking tip. You can feel the slick precum already beginning to chill on your bottom lip. When you stick your tongue out Eunseok taps his tip there too, groaning at the feeling of your warm tongue flat against him. You’re shocked that this was the same Eunseok nervous to even let you touch him. He’s fucked out just from the motions, and he gets so lost the quick taps turn into prominent spaced out slaps. The sound of his heavy dick hitting your tongue makes you dig your nails into his thigh.

“Open up, baby.” His voice is bothered and he’s impatient, pressing your jaw even further apart down until your lips stretch. “Open up for me, please.” He says quietly.

You let his prying fingers open you up until he can slid into your mouth. Instantly he’s heavy on your tongue, and you can taste him. When you look up Eunseok’s head is tilted back, and he lets out a sigh so wrecked you’re reminded of the last time you were in this position. His hand palms your shoulder, using that as a slow guide to get you to take more of him. His head lulls every direction, and he shivers each time your tongue laves a new area.

“You’re so good at this.” He compliments.

Eunseok starts bringing his own hips forward to fuck your mouth and you hum that you know. Your words aren’t picked up, only the vibration and Eunseok moaning again fills the room.

Even when Eunseok’s hand stopped guiding your shoulders, you continued the movements. Buried in his lap, stretching your lips and jaw as you bobbed your head up and down. Each time you made a gagging sound Eunseok would moan, and his hand eventually went back to your shoulder to grip it with all his might. The pain only motivated you, and the way he was pulsing and getting harder in your mouth told you he was close. His weak whimpers above you were warning signs you were blowing straight past.

Right when Eunseok’s sounds started getting louder, he pulled you off of him. His dick bobbed in front of your face, and you quickly wiped your watery eyes to get a good look at him. Eunseok was flushed red, and bending down to be eye level with you in an instant.

You could tell something changed when Eunseok started kissing you the second time. Maybe you were still reeling from your overworked gag reflex and the taste of him on your tongue, but it was different. The way he found a slow rhythm it made you think he was doing it on purpose to trip you up. The pace he set was completely opposite of his hands that guided your shoulders. You were the one trying to catch up, not sure if you were going too fast or too slow.

When Eunseok was dragging his tongue over your top row of teeth wasn’t from inexperience, but to get you to open your mouth a little wider. He was kissing just to feel you heave impatient huffs of hot air into his mouth. When you tried turning your head to figure it out his gentle hands kept you in place, making you feel what he was doing to you. Your clutched at the bottom of his shirt hopelessly, fighting back a pitiful sound when he ran his tongue over your lips.

When Eunseok pulled back and you felt his spit cool on your face, he didn’t apologize or say that he was bad at kissing. He smirked at your glistening face and your mixed drool over lining your lips. He pulled your face back and tilted it up with fingers underneath your chin, smirking at his handiwork. The sheen caught the light and he brought you back in again, just to press his tongue against yours and watch the string of spit connect your open mouths. You didn’t know what to do. You were gormless, glazed over in the eyes as you let your face continue to be tilted by Eunseok. You didn’t even swipe your tongue over your lips to break the string. You kept your eyes on him, suddenly finding yourself waiting for what was next.

“Did I do something wrong last time you were here?” Eunseok asks.

His eyes are still on your lips, now dry and missing where they were seconds ago. You only think to talk when he looks into your eyes. You shake your head in his hand, eyebrows knitting together to show that you’re sincere.

“I had so much fun.” You say.

Eunseok stays on your lips, running his thumb over the bottom. He mindlessly plays with your face and mouth, touching you as he brings his eyes up to yours.

“You haven’t bothered me during class in awhile.” He says.

You want to deny it, but it’s the truth. You grip his shirt tighter, trying to figure out why you put off feeling like this for so long.

“I thought I came on too strong.” You grip Eunseok’s shirt and your back hits the couch. You’re still on the floor and you’re still on your knees. You embarrassingly still need more. “Thought I might’ve scared you away.”

Eunseok kissed you again, deep with his hand holding you steady. When he pulled away you’re eyes were still closed in bliss, opening up again to see his eyes blown out. You were just as wrecked as him, you could see it reflected in his lenses. He was able to see you clearly, the bleary look in your eye and how much of a mess you already were.

His hands go to the pocket of his basketball shorts, pulling out a condom in the pack you left last time. You watch him tear it with his fingers before his hands are back on you, until you were turned to face the couch. He continued handling you until your legs were spread and your top half was resting on top of the couch. He even fixed your arms until the were laying on top of the cushion, laying the foil wrapper right next to you.

You wait to feel Eunseok’s warmth as he shuffles behind you to slot his body between your legs. You wait for what feels like an eternity, suddenly too nervous to look over your shoulder and see it for yourself. Before you can whine about anything, you feel the tickle of hair on your back and then a wet kiss on your waist.

Instantly you freeze. You can feel Eunseok’s lips travel further down, and a hand on your lower back keeps you from turning to face him.

“Just stay like that.” Eunseok murmurs behind you.

When he kisses the curve of your ass you felt yourself meld into the couch. Your head is resting on the cushion, you swear you can hear your heartbeat when you press your ear into the sofa. Not knowing what’s happening behind you reminds you of the way you had Eunseok two weeks ago. You’re now in his shoes, still reeling from the dried spit on your face while he travels further down.

“Wait.” Your hand is in a panic behind you in seconds, but Eunseok can’t be phased. He grabs your hand and presses it to your lower back, his other hand grabbing your ass. He spreads you out and you whine because you’ve never been like this before, you would’ve never thought Eunseok would have you like this. There’s another wet kiss on your ass and you try to duck away. “Eunseok.”

His tongue is against your ass, then he works down lower. You’re pressing your face deeper into the couch cushion, scraping against the fabric to try and work through the feeling. It’s wet, he’s messy, he’s loud behind you. You can feel Eunseok’s tongue press into your heat timidly before he’s diving further in. His tongue prods into you, shallow laps that have you instinctually twitching away from his face. Your hand that’s still pinned to your lower back clenches and spreads out. You try not to make any noise. Like Eunseok’s got your tongue you’re just open mouthed with your eyes screwed shut. There’s no way he has you like this. There’s no way he’s spreading you further, there’s no way you can feel his finger push past into you.

“Feels good, right?” Your entire face is hot. Sweat is lining every part of you and there’s something touching your face to cause the worst kind of discomfort, but you can’t move from the spot he has you in. “You’re so tight.” He pushes your body forward when you jolt from another finger being added. “And wet.” Eunseok adds.

You don’t dare to look behind you. You can hear him situate himself behind you, sitting down and working his fingers inside of you while the other keeps you spread. Any attempt to move your hips away he follows. He doesn’t order you around anymore, accommodating to your swaying hips and your heaving pants against his new couch. You’re sure you’re drooling on his cushions, and you’re making a mess on his fingers. He keeps driving his fingers inside of you, until you’re shaking your head and reaching another panicked head backwards.

“Eunseok I think.” An effort to lift your body off the couch is thwarted when Eunseok’s hand leaves your ass to touch your clit. You’re pressed against the couch again, mouth agape. “I’m close.” You say.

For a moment Eunseok pauses. Just before you rapidly decline from the peak he goes back to the pace he set, constant and grueling and stimulating that drool starts slipping down your chin.

“Really?” He sounds amazed, like everything about what he was doing to you wasn’t calculated. Like he’s just playing with another toy, surprised that you are feeling any sort of pleasure. You nod immediately, and thee quickest look back you can see Eunseok let his glasses slide down lower. They’re foggy, because it’s a million degrees in this room and they’re focused on the part of your body where you’re bent and rocking back on him in the slightest way. Like you’re an experiment he takes you all in. “You’re close?”

If he wasn’t so curious you would’ve thought he was mocking you. But Eunseok is paying attention to everything, recalling what he was doing earlier that made you react to him. You selfishly don’t have it in you to pull him along, tossing compliments over your shoulder to let him know he’s doing the right thing. You’re too distracted, instead focused on crying out when he starts scissoring his fingers and closing your legs in on itself when he starts rubbing your clit the right way.

Eunseok doesn’t even notice that you came. He vocalizes something about how you’re squeezing his fingers, then commenting on how you’re so wet. Then he’s bumping into his coffee table. You’re still weak but he can’t be bothered as he pulls out to wrap an arm around your hip, rearranging you to his liking. You can barely move to follow him, trying to alleviate some of your weight while being moved into place. Eunseok is satisfied quickly with your head resting on the armrest and your hands gripping it for support. You hear him stumble to situate a leg on the coffee table, and he’s back to touching you again.

Eunseok is repeating curses behind you again and again, and you’re trying hard to keep that same form. You have to fight to keep your knee slipping out from underneath you from each thrust. You’re on the brink of overstimulation and Eunseok is trailing close behind you, panting and pressing his sweaty chest to your back.

“Did you cum?” He asks with the same doubt the first time, and it makes you clench around him again. His shaky fingers loosen the grip on your hip to go to your clit, and just the feeling of him pressing deep makes your entire body twitch. “Did you cum?”

He repeats the question, and you know it’s because he wants to make sure you’ve finished. But paired with his fingers working through your cries it seems like a threat, almost like a punishment. You lift your head from the armrest, tears staining your cheeks.

When you repeat to him over and over again that you came, and you’re going to cum again, he looks at you like he can’t believe it. His harsh pace with his hips even falter, but you’ve come too far to let anything stop. Now it’s you driving your hips back, working through the burn, the overstimulation, everything to chase after it. Eunseok’s shocked face pulls to ecstasy, and then he’s pulling at your shoulders until your back is pressed to his front. You’re gripping the back of the couch as Eunseok keeps your face turned to meet his lips. Shaky and deep kisses, where he’s just trying to feel the inside of your mouth and you’re trying to focus on getting him to finish.

Eunseok is the first to pull away to press his head into your shoulder, grunting into your skin as he ruts his hips against yours. You can feel the rim of his glasses press into your skin, and you can feel his hands hastily reach down to grab yours. He’s slipping his fingers between the gaps in yours and holds you tight, rutting into you it punches every breath from your lungs. By the time Eunseok twitches and slumps against you, you’re gasping to catch your breath. He matches your exhaustion, gasping quietly and panting against your back.

His hand is sluggish leaving yours, you stay clutched against the back of the couch and gripping it for support when he pushes his glasses back up his face. You’re staring forward at his front door, trying to come to terms with the fact that you manifested whatever just happened. Yunjin and Giselle really aren’t going to believe you, if you can find the energy to leave his apartment. You feel like you’re stuck now, and you’re about to become an even worse thorn in your side. You pray he doesn’t mind, because he pulls out of you and ties the condom off before he’s lying down and guiding you to lay on top of him. He catches his breath when he wraps his arms around you, breathing deep and rubbing shapes on your skin.

He’ll never be able to get rid of you after this, you’re sure of it. He holds you tight and you can’t even think of leaving, whatever obligations you had for the rest of the day are cast to the side.

“Seok.”

You look up to see Eunseok already looking at you. His glasses are halfway down his nose, so far down he looks at you over the rim.

“Can I wear your glasses?”

#commissionz #seriez: glasses #01zfan: eunseok #eunseok smut #riize smut

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sunlight-shunlight · 4 months ago

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thinking about veilguard and bioware in general, i think we are reaching a point where people need to grapple with the inherent limits of what stories can be told in our Current Society and in AAA gaming companies.

on a labour level: mass layoffs, tons of developers leaving despite previously talking about how passionate and happy they were to be involved, not even paying severance, and crunching employees to the point of burnout. this is unfortunately pretty standard for AAA game companies.

on a cultural level: it is SO white and SO centrist-ly Canadian. i wrote up these asks outlining how. it is a repeated pattern of writing in which they go into tortured racial oppression allegories at best, while constantly peppering in a "but BOTH SIDES were wrong and made mistakes :( :( :(", in between their fictional atrocities that are clearly mirroring irl genocides and enslavement. or at worst, it's "the qunari are radical islamic borg" which has even less nuance. i personally thought, since dai came out in 2014, and a lot has changed since then about the world and in public awareness, that this would have filtered into the narrative and resulted in more satisfying and historically grounded writing. unfortunately not the case. it's shocking if you compare it to how sharp and aware and unflinching something like disco elysium is.

so what does this mean?

under these conditions, it is unavoidable that we get development by people who are rapidly cycled out of the company or demoralized into burnout. we get digestible, easy little soundbites of lore without much substance, because any complexity needs more time and coordination rather than the process of "quick, we have these assets, a lot of people involved in making them just got laid off, we need to make Something by next quarter to show the CEO". we get very little cohesion between games, despite the clear intent from dai to have so many plot points set up to follow through in a sequel, because the team and development are so chaotic that they can't hold onto a vision and complete it.

we also get this inherent caution and "conservatism" from the narrative, because on an ideological level, they're largely white people who want cops to be included in pride. so any major change to even a fictional society is Bad and Scary, and shouldn't be done without making sure that every character finger-wags appropriately at non-state violence. there is clearly not much ideological or even ethnic diversity within the leadership; or at least not enough that anyone there felt comfortable even speaking up on minor issues like the Incredibly Orientalist Isabela Outfit, let alone anything larger.

i don't personally think there's too much value in trying to analyze veilguard's plot or lore at this point. the final product is chaotically developed and does not seem to reflect the goals of the creators as set up in prior games, it's basically a ship of theseus in terms of the people and ideas involved in making it. this is sad for all of us, who were interested in the story, and attached to the characters, and were creatively fulfilled by engaging in the fandom. it's probably worse for the developers who have lost their jobs, burnt out, or feel unhappy with the game that they spent years of their life working on. it's certainly miserable as an indictment of The Industry, as well as the general societal climate of white Canadian centrism.

the solution is to create a society where people can develop games in peace and prosperity and stay on projects for longer, rather than constantly getting turfed out without severance pay. and to get some genuine leftists, poc, and indigenous people on staff who can weigh in and provide significant input, rather than a Council Of Liberal White Edmontonians every time.

in the meantime, at the very least, let's please stop preordering AAA games and supporting companies who notably abuse their employees.

#veilguard critical #bioware critical #txt #or...! people get really into godot or renpy or something and create an incredibly high effort unpaid project of dubious legality #if anyone wants to do that blink twice.#really the disappointment about dragon age (to me) is that interactive narratives have so much potential as a method of storytelling #but they did not really even scratch the surface in this one #and probably never will again bc the company seems to be hemorrhaging staff like crazy #if you compare this to something like supergiant games it's wild #they've been retaining their staff for like 15 years and you can SEE them building and progressing from each game and learning from it #and their games are beautiful and incredibly innovative and well written #and from what i know they prioritize work-life balance and refuse to crunch even if it's 'voluntary'#and meanwhile bioware is going from uhhh. me3 to anthem to andromeda to veilguard.#with the crunch being a compounding issue all the way through and probably contributing to a lot of mistakes and talent loss #anyway my only experience in game dev is fooling around by myself on dumb ideas but #i think even just from a general project management perspective it's clear that it's not possible to have good output #under these types of chaotic situations with a lack of leadership and retained knowledge

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ambiguous-avery · 3 months ago

Text

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town.

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling.

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow.

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you.

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again.

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there.

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you.

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes.

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket.

“Smart man... smarter than me."

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted.

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight.

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing. You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for.

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

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cleo-fox · 2 months ago

Text

Captain's Orders

Summary: You and James Conrad do not get along. You find him arrogant and obnoxious; he thinks you are disrespectful and reckless. You would be glad to be rid of him as soon as the Skull Island mission concludes. Unfortunately for you, there's a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine that you have to contend with…and you are stuck with James Conrad for the duration.

And in addition to being arrogant and obnoxious, Conrad is also extremely attractive…and your close quarters make it a lot harder to hide the fact that you want him.

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, enemies to lovers, Dom/sub undertones (or overtones, honestly), sir kink, teasing, masturbation, quarantine (but just as a plot device, no one actually gets sick),

A/N: I am not particularly religious, but I do feel like my file has been flagged for horny purgatory based on the contents of this fic. This is what I have sacrificed for my craft.

You were so focused on getting to Skull Island that you didn’t really give much thought to what the return might be like, apart from your general desire to make it back alive and unharmed.

You are fairly certain that no one had mentioned a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine, though.

“It’s standard procedure,” you’re told by an unsmiling medic in a hazmat suit. “Don’t want you bringing back any novel illnesses.”

Fine. That’s sensible. You can live with that.

Or you could have, had it not been for the fact that there were a limited number of quarantine units available and for whatever godforsaken reason, it had taken them two fucking hours to finish your processing. This would have been fine, except by that point, there’s only one unit left for two people.

And one of those people is James Conrad.

You and Conrad have been butting heads since before you shipped off to Skull Island. You’ll fully admit that he’s very capable…but he just has this way of saying things that sets your teeth on edge. If you’re being charitable, you’d call this quality self-assuredness; most of the time, you call it arrogance. And apparently, there’s something about you that is equally frustrating to him because the entire mission had been a stream of bickering that was only interrupted by an island that seemed to be doing its level best to kill you.

And if that wasn’t complicated enough, there’s also this: your annoyance with James Conrad is almost constantly warring with the fact that you desperately want to fuck him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s fit and insists on wearing a t-shirt that may as well be made of shrink wrap from the way it clings to his muscles. And for every irritating and self righteous thing that comes out of his mouth, there’s also the fact that he’s got that deep, smoother-than-smooth voice that you suspect would sound particularly delectable uttering absolute filth as he fucks you from behind (or from any position, really. You’re not picky).

Sometimes you think he might return your interest, but it’s hard to tell. He’ll be sneering and dismissive one moment and the next, you’ll catch him staring at your mouth in the middle of an argument. You suspect that you have a million tells like that—it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, especially in that t-shirt. And those jeans. (God, those jeans. You want to peel those jeans off his body with your teeth).

The idea of no longer having to deal with him or navigate those feelings is relief tinged with a lot of disappointment. He’s a pain in the ass…but he’s a pain in the ass who you desperately want to fuck. The possibility of resolving that tension is too tempting to ignore.

So the news that you’re going to be stuck with him for another seventy-two hours in a living space designed for one person is as thrilling as it is profoundly irritating.

Whether you’ll end this quarantine fucking each other or killing each other remains to be seen.

“They never said anything about this,” you grouse to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor.

“They absolutely did.” Conrad gives you that patronizing, know-it-all look that has been grating on your last nerve for the entirety of your acquaintance.

“I wasn’t actually talking to you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you were talking to yourself, then? Should I flag that as a symptom or were you like this before?”

You sigh and give him your best scowl. “Fuck off, Conrad.”

The smirk doesn’t go away. “I would if I could, darling.”

You roll your eyes, even as that word—darling—draws goosebumps up your spine. You try and fail not to think of how that word might sound falling from his lips as he fucks you into the mattress.

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know how I’m meant to make it through seventy-two hours of this.”

Conrad manages an expression that’s both neutral and smug, which is somehow more infuriating than if he’d just been smug.

“Would you like the shower first?” he asks with the feigned sort of politeness that you use when you’re trying to change the subject because the other person’s being unreasonable. And it’s the sort of fake politeness that you can’t call him on because you’ll just look crazy, which is even more irritating.

You force a mild, totally unbothered smile. “You can go ahead.”

You did this to prove a point (you’re not sure what point), but you regret it almost as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him. You’re covered in several days’ worth of dirt, sweat, and probably a little bit of blood and monster goo, which limits you to sitting in the metal folding chair that’s propped in the corner like an afterthought. One of the caps on the legs is missing and it wobbles slightly every time you shift your weight.

The rest of the quarantine unit isn’t much better than that shitty folding chair. It has the sort of blandly institutional aesthetic you’d expect from the military and everything is a rather unpleasant shade of beige or brown—the tile on the floor, the paneled walls, the furniture. There’s a ratty couch that boasts a spring making its way through the middle seat, though an attempt has been made to hide it with a bit of duct tape gone gummy with grime at the edges. They’d left a second stack of blankets and sheets on the couch, but the longer you look at it, the more certain you are that it’s not fit for human use. Between that couch and the jungle floor, you think you’d take the jungle floor.

You turn your gaze to the bed. It’s a double and it looks decently clean and comfortable. It would probably make sense to just share the bed, rather than subjecting either one of you to the couch.

The thought sends goosebumps up your spine. It’s a practical suggestion, certainly. But there are other benefits.

Conrad emerges from the bathroom after twenty minutes, freshly shaved and showered and wearing an undershirt that somehow seems tighter than that stupid t-shirt he’d been wearing on Skull Island.

You hastily avert your eyes and go to retrieve your bag.

“Shall we flip for the bed?” says Conrad, setting his own bag on the couch.

You sigh heavily as you shoulder your bag. “It pains me to say this, but we should share it.”

Conrad looks mildly surprised, but doesn’t immediately counter with something smug. “Share it?”

“We’ve been sleeping on jungle floors for days and that couch looks like it’s breeding a new species of flea. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, no one has to suffer. Okay?”

He thinks for a moment and then nods. “Okay.”

You hurry into the bathroom before you get anymore distracted by how he looks in that damn undershirt.

You shut the door behind you and are immediately confronted with a different challenge. The steam from his shower lingers. Everything smells like his soap and shaving cream. It’s annoying.

And also inconveniently hot.

Your mind wanders to how he looked just moments ago, clean-shaven and hair damp, wearing that stupidly tight undershirt. And from there you can’t help but think of how he looked on the island covered in dirt and sweat, the smug curl of his lips as he said something to put you in your place, the steely flint of his eyes when you talked back, his fucking biceps in those goddamn sleeves. (Is it normal that you want to bite his biceps?)

And now you’re undressing in a room that smells like him and he’s in the other room looking like that…

By the time the water is running and heated up, you are resigned to the fact that this shower is going to end with you silently getting yourself off to the thought of James Conrad.

You’re not so far gone that you trust there’s enough hot water for both tasks, though, and you grudgingly admit that the actual shower part is most important, so you begin with that. You try not to think too much of Conrad—there will be time for that soon—but you become gradually more aroused as your shower progresses. Even the simple pass of your fingers against your skin is heightened, your body gradually growing warm and restless with wanting.

Finally, you finish washing and lean back against the shower wall. The water is starting to cool slightly, but not enough to worry you. You turn the tap further to the left and there’s a wave of warmer water. Perfect.

You slide your fingers between your legs. It’s going to be quick, you can tell that already. Conrad appears in your mind as you roll your fingers over your slick clit. You wonder if he’s as pent up as you are, if he got himself off in the same shower. Or god, what if he somehow worked out what you’re doing right now? What if he came into the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain aside and told you off for touching yourself without him? You could imagine his stern look as he stripped down, maybe he’d say something sexy like, “if you’re going to act like a slut, you should have the decency to invite me to join in—”

The water abruptly goes cold. You gasp and slam the tap off.

Fuck. It fucking figures.

You briefly consider staying in the shower and simply finishing the job, but your skin is quickly chilling as the steam leaves the shower and it’s enough to kind of kill the mood, even though your cunt is still pulsing. So you dry off and pull on your pajamas, still pent up and aching.

Conrad is in bed and under the blankets when you return, his impossibly broad back already facing your side of the bed. You turn down the covers on your side, trying not to let on to the fact that your pussy is throbbing or that the man lying next to you in bed is prompting some of the filthiest thoughts you’ve had in a while.

You situate yourself on your side, facing your back towards him. You’re not touching, but you can still feel the heat radiating off him, which also doesn’t do any favors for the ache between your legs.

“I’m turning off the light.”

“All right.”

You switch off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.

You settle back down against your pillow. The combination of a comfortable bed after days of sleeping on the ground should be enough to knock you out fairly quickly.

Instead, you find yourself unable to think of anything other than the warm, pulsing ache between your thighs and what it would be like to have Conrad resolve that for you. He’d probably be a good fuck—he’s that particular combination of stern and capable that sets your nerves ablaze. His body is annoyingly perfect and he’d probably feel annoyingly good. Maybe you wouldn’t mind him being chivalrous if chivalrous meant burying his face between your thighs or fucking you so hard you see stars.

You stare at the illuminated hand of the alarm clock, feeling yourself grow wetter and more awake with every passing second. If you could get yourself off, you’d fall right asleep. You should’ve just pushed through the chill of the shower. If you’d done that, you’d be sated and sleeping right now, not staring at the clock and listening to Conrad’s even breathing beside you.

He’d fallen asleep rather quickly, you note sourly. Perhaps he’d been able to take advantage of the full hot water tank and get himself off in the shower. Your mind immediately conjures the scene, Conrad standing in a spray of water, leisurely pumping his cock, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Biting his fist to keep quiet as he comes—

Fuck. None of this is helping you.

You stare at the clock. It’s been just over an hour.

You shift slightly, your cunt aching. Maybe you could just…

You should dismiss the thought automatically: it would be ridiculous to get yourself off here, even if he is asleep.

But is he really going to know?

That should also be a nonstarter—you’re not some kind of creeping pervert, after all. But you just spent days on a deadly jungle mission that included a significant amount of time being sexually frustrated by a man who looks like he strolled in from a Michelangelo painting. You’re really fucking horny and it would be so easy to take care of the ache that’s settled so heavily in your hips. Conrad wouldn’t know. You would be discreet.

You don’t realize you’ve made your decision until you start sliding your hand into your sleep shorts.

You inhale sharply as your fingers graze your clit. It’s ridiculous that such an infuriating man has made you this wet, this sensitive. It’ll probably be quick—maybe five minutes at most.

Your lips part as you fall into a familiar rhythm, your mind drifting back to Conrad. You imagine him watching you, telling you what to do, calling you a good girl, ordering you to come. You’re starting to tense, desire coiling tight in your hips. He’d probably make you come more than once—on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’re not sure which one you want most, though you suspect he excels at all methods. Your breath quickens. Just another minute and you’ll come. Your pussy is aching so badly and your fingers feel so good and you’re so close to getting what you need. Just a little bit more and you’ll finally get a little relief—

“I know what you’re doing.” Conrad’s voice comes from the other side of the bed.

Shit.

You freeze, your hand stilling between your legs. You’d thought he was asleep and you’d believed it so completely that you hadn’t even considered trying to come up with a graceful exit strategy. You carefully ease your hand out of your shorts.

“What’s that?” you say, trying to make your voice sound sleepy, like he’d just woken you up and not caught you with your hand down your shorts.

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone is sharp and uncompromising, and it plucks at something deep in your belly.

“Conrad, wait—”

You can tell he’s sitting up, the mattress shifting slightly. You sit up as well, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s dark and you can’t quite get a read on him—not that you’d know how to fix it if you could.

But then his fingers close around your wrist and he brings your slick fingers up to his mouth.

Oh.

His lips close on the tip of your index finger, his tongue tasting the pad of your fingertip as he sucks it deeper into the heat of his mouth. You take in a shaky breath as burning desire rolls through you like molten lava.

“You taste desperate,” he says, releasing your finger. “Do you really need to come that badly? Is that why you’ve been such a brat?”

You didn’t think it was possible to be more turned on, but your cunt is now throbbing with an urgency that you’ve never felt before. It’s like all those days of quiet desperation suddenly caught up with you and now the only thing you can think of is his touch.

“Answer me,” he says, voice growing stern.

You lick your lips. “Yeah…I—I need to come. Badly.”

“I see.” His thumb traces a circle on the palm of your hand and then on the inside of your wrist. “And you’d like me to help you with that, is that it?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then you should start calling me sir.”

Your capacity for rational thought evaporates instantly. His words and calm control have you weak kneed and aching, beholden to wants that you’ve been denying yourself for days and needs that you’ve ignored for quite a lot longer. Pure desire roars through your body, pooling in your hips, waiting to be properly unleashed.

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

You feel the mattress shift again and the lamp on the bedside table clicks on.

Blinking against the light, you sit up, your eyes locked on him as he walks to your side of the bed.

“You have been insubordinate, impertinent, reckless…utterly infuriating.” His gaze roves over your body and he licks his lips. “If there’s one thing you learn from tonight, it’s going to be how to take a fucking order.”

Reflexively, you open your mouth to snap back at him before you realize what you’re doing and promptly shut it again.

Conrad’s eyes shine like a cat that’s just cornered a mouse. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble if you’re not careful, sweetheart. Are you going to behave or do I need to find something to keep it occupied?”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind doing what he’s implying, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable enough to make you cooperative. “I’ll be good,” you say, too quickly. “Sir,” you add.

His gaze is unreadable. “Undress.”

You quickly comply, pulling off your t-shirt followed by your sleep shorts and underwear. You resist the urge to squirm under the heavy weight of his gaze as it travels leisurely up the length of your naked body, the pulse between your thighs quickening as desire turns his eyes darker with every moment.

He sits down next to you on the bed. Your palms itch to touch him—to peel the stark white undershirt over his head and rake your hands over his chest, to rub your aching cunt against the steadily growing bulge in his boxers—but the look in his eyes and his stern words from earlier tell you that you need to wait for him to tell you what to do. You press your thighs together, trying to keep your aching need under control.

Almost subconsciously, your gaze drops to his lap and your lips part just slightly. His cock is straining against the fabric of his boxers, desperately hard. He may be acting all tough and stern, but he wants you—maybe even as much as you want him.

You sort of lose yourself in the moment and the sound of his low voice startles you. “You don’t deserve my cock yet.” His tone brooks no arguments, but your cunt aches all the more at the thought of not having him.

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from his cock. “Yet?”

“Well,” he says, trailing a hand from your hip to your ribs, “that depends on how good you are, doesn’t it?”

“I can be good,” you say.

There’s a hint of mockery in his laugh that makes you want to talk back. Or fuck him—you’re not quite sure which.

“You think you can be good? You’ve already forgotten your manners and I can tell you’re thinking about talking back.”

You can feel desperation start to claw from the ache in your hips. “I’m sorry, sir, I just—I really need to come.”

“Can’t even think straight,” he says, clicking his tongue. His gaze drops to your breasts and meanders down your body. “Show me your cunt.”

You spread your legs and bare yourself to him. His gaze is cool and impassive as he looks you over, lips parting slightly.

“Oh, you fucking need it,” he says quietly. “Look at your desperate little cunt, all wet and spread out for me like a treat.”

You can’t help it: you whine. Every inch of you is aching, yearning for relief.

Conrad looks unmoved. “You were being very wicked, weren’t you? Playing with your pretty pussy right next to me in bed and not letting me see.”

You nod, your heart racing. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry’s not good enough, darling. Not with how fucking hard you’ve made me every goddamn day of this mission.” He finally raises his gaze to meet yours. “Touch yourself for me. Show me how you play with your needy cunt.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes, sir.”

You slide your fingers between your legs and hold his gaze until your eyes flutter shut at the first pass of your fingers against your throbbing clit. You didn’t think it was possible but you’re even wetter now than you were before. A moan falls from your lips, unguarded and wanton.

“That feel good?” His voice is a low rasp, eyes hooded.

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Look at how wet you are. It’s fucking obscene.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I need to come so bad.”

He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he watches you. “I know you do. But only good girls get to come and you’ve been such a fucking brat.”

You moan again, resisting the urge to whine as you change the rhythm of your fingers to press more indirectly on your clit. His words are already amplifying the rolling tension in your hips and if you’re not careful, it’ll send you over the edge too soon.

“I think you want to be a good girl, though,” he says. “You’re putting on such a nice little show for me. Do you like having me watch you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your hips roll with your hand. Your orgasm is starting to take shape, pleasure flickering in your core like a live wire.

“You love this.” His eyes are hooded as his gaze roves openly over your body. “Being so filthy and showing me what you like. Getting that sweet cunt ready to be filled to the brim with my hard cock.”

Another whine falls from your lips.

“And you’re making such pretty little noises, too.” His smile turns sly. “That’s what gave you away, you know. You thought you were being so quiet and clever, but I could hear all those little gasps. And every one made me so. fucking. hard.”

You arch against the mattress, fingers pressing harder, your hips rolling.

“I almost let you finish.” He smirks, licking his lips. “But I got greedy—I wanted to see you come, I wanted to hear you make more of those sweet noises while I made you beg for me.”

You are deliciously, unbearably close.

He is rapt by the sight of you, eyes hooded. “Are you about to come, darling?”

You nod, not quite able to speak.

His eyes darken and for a moment, you think he might let you come.

In hindsight, that was extremely wistful thinking.

“Stop.”

You freeze automatically, though your body is begging you to continue. You bring your gaze to Conrad’s and he stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to protest. “Hands above your head,” he says after a moment.

You obey automatically, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself from saying anything as your cunt pulses with a throbbing ache. God, you had been so close. Conrad licks his lips, a hungry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that all it takes to bring you to heel?” he says, eyes raking over your body. “Rubbing your needy little clit?”

You nod, your breath coming in sharp gasps. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, that would have saved me a lot of trouble had I known that.” He runs one warm palm along the inside of your thigh. “First time you gave me that bratty attitude, I would’ve bent you over and made you come until you were a whimpering mess.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and he gives you a slow, hungry smile.

“You put on a good show of being disobedient, but you fucking love being told what to do. Your pussy’s been dripping from the moment I told you to show me your cunt.”

His hand drifts further up your body, his thumb and index finger gently tracing the bend where your leg meets your hip. You try not to squirm as your cunt throbs harder at the nearness of his hand, but your breath stutters in your throat.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks, fingers stroking your skin.

You swallow hard, desire burning in your hips. “Please, sir.”

A slight smirk plays at his lips. “You really are a filthy girl, aren’t you? I haven’t even kissed you yet and you’re begging me to play with your pussy.”

His large hand moves to cup your cunt, his fingertips teasing the very edges of your slit, but going no further. His eyes are locked with yours and the anticipation is making you tremble.

“Tell me what you need.” Conrad’s voice is practically a purr, soft and intimate. Filthy. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I—”

The tip of his middle finger presses gently between your folds, teasing your entrance. Your breath catches.

“Fuck, I—I need to come.”

He tuts, his hand unmoving. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I want…I need you to touch me.” The words come out desperate and whiny, prompting another smirk from him. “Please, sir.”

He hums and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic mound so that it pulls at the hood of your clit—enough to tease, but not enough to provide relief.

“Like this?” he asks innocently. The slight wry tilt of his lips tells you he knows the answer.

“I need more, sir.” You roll your hips up, trying to get more friction.

“More?” He swirls the tip of his finger around your entrance, still so far away from your aching clit. “How could you possibly need more?”

You bite back a whine of frustration. “My clit.”

“What about your clit?”

“I need you to touch my clit, sir.”

He licks his lips and slowly begins dragging his fingers along the length of your cunt. “You want me to touch your clit,” he says, like he’s making casual conversation. His fingertip trails up to your clit and pauses. “Like this?”

You bite back a frustrated whimper. “You need to rub it.”

He traces a slow circle on your clit and you let out a low moan. You know he’s not going to let you come any time soon, but it feels so amazing to finally be touched that you almost don’t care.

“Oh, I see,” he murmurs, his fingers easing into a slow, twisting rhythm,, “you want me to keep rubbing your clit until you come on my fingers.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Mmm, I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy, darling.”

“But I need it, sir.”

“I know you do, but you need to convince me that you can be a good girl.” He casts a greedy look down the length of your body. “Your pussy’s so fucking ready and we’ve barely started—you must have been having some very wicked thoughts.”

You nod. There’s no point in lying.

“What were you thinking of, you wicked, filthy girl? What got you so worked up and wet?”

“You.” This truth falls easily—almost too easily—from your lips.

“Yeah?” He’s already managed to find the perfect movement and pressure for your clit. “Be more specific.”

You take in a shaky breath. “I was—fuck—I was thinking about you touching me like this.”

“Surely that’s not all,” he says. “You’re much too wet for that to be all.”

“I…I tried touching myself in the shower. Before the hot water ran out.”

He laughs, low and hungry. “Oh, you’re even more wicked than I thought.” He rubs your clit firmly. “What were you thinking about in the shower?”

“I…fuck, just like that—I was thinking about what would happen if you walked in and caught me. What you’d do to me. What it’d feel like to take your orders.”

“What else?”

“I thought about you touching yourself. About how maybe you’d jerked off in the shower, too.” You moan and he slows his fingers slightly. “I thought about you ordering me to come, what it’d feel like to come all over your cock.”

“Awfully bold of you.” His eyes are hooded. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for me to let you come on my cock?”

You moan. “No, sir, I’ve been so bad.”

“That’s right.” His voice comes out like a purr, stern but pleased. “You’ve been a very bad, wicked girl. Touching yourself, playing with this wet pussy without sharing. You’re going to need to be very, very good before I even think about filling you up with my come.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks again. “I have to say, I’m rather fond of this more agreeable side of you.” His gaze drags over your body again. “Tell me you like being my good girl.”

“I—”

His eyes are dancing like he knows that you’d rather not admit this.

You lick your lips. “I…I like being your good girl, sir.” You lean hard into the word sir and you’d wager that he notices based on the way his gaze intensifies.

“Does it make you wet when I tell you what to do?”

You nod, trying to keep the remainder of your composure from fraying.

Conrad clicks his tongue. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Fuck.” You gasp, whimpering. He’s been slowly increasing his pace this whole time and you are getting dangerously close to coming.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.” The low lilt of his voice runs in sharp contrast to the way he’s touching you.

“It…it makes me so wet—” You gasp, your words cutting off as your orgasm begins to crest. “Oh god.”

“Oh, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” He eases his hand away from you. “What a shame you didn’t do as I asked, you might have earned your release.”

It’s egregiously unfair, but before you can so much utter a whimper of protest, he’s bringing his mouth down on yours, tongue pushing easily past your lips. You moan into his mouth and his tongue delves deeper in response.

The simple pleasure of kissing him is far more intense than you expect and you can’t help shivering a little.

“Come here.” He gently maneuvers you so that you straddle his lap, the thick column of his cock pressing against your sopping cunt. A whimper catches in your throat and there’s a flicker of smugness in his eyes. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice low and a little raspy.

“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy and shaky. You roll your hips against him, but his hands quickly still you.

“Not yet. I want you to sit and just feel how much I want you.” He strokes your thighs and presses his mouth against your neck. “Feel how hard I am against your wet cunt.” His hands skim up your waist to cup your breasts. “Think about how good it’ll feel when I finally fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You tilt your head back and sigh as he expertly rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently tugging and pinching their sensitive skin until they pebble, hard and aching in his hands. His cock throbs against you.

“Did you feel my cock get harder when I started playing with your tits?” he murmurs against your neck as he starts to kiss a soft trail down your chest.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“It is requiring every ounce of my self-control to do this properly. If my cock was in charge of things, I would’ve fucked you the moment you walked out of the bathroom wearing those little shorts and no bra.”

He ends that confession by taking your right breast into his mouth, sucking hard at your nipple and teasing it with his teeth. You moan, arching your back and curling your hands into his hair, while his hard cock presses deliciously against your sopping cunt. You’re tempted by the knowledge that the friction of the thin fabric of his boxers paired with his hard cock underneath would be more than enough to get you off if he let you rut yourself against him. But there are too many risks with disobeying him right now and you’re far too horny to be able to tolerate the inevitable delay or denial that would likely follow that insubordination. So, instead, you try desperately not to squirm as he toys with your breasts, slowly driving your desire higher and higher.

He chuckles quietly against your breasts, almost as though he’s privy to this line of thought. “Oh sweetheart, you are making such a terrible mess. Look at this.”

He lifts his head from your breasts and shifts you in his lap so you can see the unmistakable wet spot on the front of his boxers, right where your pussy was pressed against his cock.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” he says, running a fingertip along the damp fabric. “You couldn’t help your pussy getting all wet while I played with your tits, could you?”

“No, sir. It felt so good.”

“I know it did. And it made me so hard to feel you soaking my cock like that.” He leans in and kisses you slowly, one hand still squeezing and toying with your breast. He draws back slightly and lets his voice drop down the octave. “I think it’s time for me to get undressed, though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir,” you say with a promptness that betrays your desperation.

He pulls his undershirt up and over his head and you have to restrain yourself from immediately plastering yourself against his chest. All of his stupidly tight shirts had not been lying: his chest is as beautifully sculpted as you suspected it would be. Your gaze is only torn away when he eases you off his lap to shuck off his boxers, revealing what might be the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It is long and thick with a slight curve that you know is going to blow your mind later.

“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips before you can stop yourself as you stare shamelessly and openly.

“You like my cock?” His smirk is lazy, eyes hooded.

“You’re so big.” You say it almost automatically, without thinking about how it might inflate his already massive ego.

He smirks again, licking his lips. “You gonna be able to take me?”

You nod earnestly. “Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you amend.

“Good girl.” He pats his thighs. “Sit just like you were before.”

You climb back into his lap, carefully straddling him so that your cunt sits against the length of his cock. You can’t help but whimper as the silky hardness of his cock presses against your aching cunt.

“Mmm, there we go.” His voice is low and soothing as your whole body shudders. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes. “I love feeling your pussy on my cock. So warm and wet—and I bet you’re tight, too. Fucking perfect.”

He puts his hands on your hips and guides you against him. You suck in a sharp breath as your clit rubs against his shaft.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, rocking your hips against his. “You’re so wet you just slide right along my cock.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re making such a mess on my cock and I’m not even inside you.” He guides your hips just a little faster. “What’re you going to do when I fuck you properly, hm? Are you even going to be able to stand it?”

Pressure is quickly starting to build in your hips again—a lot more quickly than you expected. You grind your hips firmly against his cock. “Can I come, please? I’ve been so good and I need it so bad, sir.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll come when I say so.”

You give him your most innocent and demure look. “You could say so now, couldn’t you, sir?”

His gaze becomes stern. “Are you getting pert with me?”

You shake your head. “No, sir. I just want you to fuck me. I’m dripping. I need to come.”

He chuckles. “It makes me so hard to hear you talk like this. I love hearing how desperate and needy you are.” He kisses you fiercely, nipping hard at your bottom lip, his tongue stroking into your mouth as he rocks your hips in the same brisk rhythm.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Sir, please, I wanna come so bad.”

“Mmm, not yet, love.”

“What do I need to do, sir?”

This is the right question to ask, based on the way his eyes light up and then darken with hunger. “You made a terrible mess on my cock, didn’t you?”

You think you know where this is going and it thrills you. “Yes, sir.”

“You were rubbing your soaking cunt all over me like a needy little slut.” His eyes darken even more. “Good girls clean up their messes, don’t they, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He licks his lips. “I want you to get on your knees and clean up the mess you made on my cock, and then maybe I’ll think about letting you come.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath as more heat floods your cunt. “Yes, sir.”

You don’t drop your gaze as you slip off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling at his feet as he spreads his legs wide. You’re tempted to tease him—to press light, fleeting kisses against the tip of his cock or lightly flick your tongue against it before retreating, playing dumb when he calls you on it. But the reality is that your patience is running too thin and your need is too great to invite any further delay, even though you’d likely enjoy the stern rebuke that would follow.

So instead, you wrap your hand around his thick shaft and take him into your mouth.

He exhales deeply through his nose, his head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut as his sigh turns into a groan, as though he’s just sunk into a hot bath after a long day. He leans back on one hand and the other goes to the back of your head.

“You were thinking about being a brat just a moment ago, weren’t you?” he says. “Your eyes always give you away.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s displeased or not. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows in a silent question as you work his cock.

“Your mouth is good enough that I’m going to be a little more forgiving than I would be otherwise.” He gives you a lazy smirk, eyes slightly hazy with pleasure. “But I think you’re finally learning how to be a good girl and take my orders—and you fucking love it.”

You cast your eyes back down—you still don’t like admitting to that—and he chuckles almost fondly. You take him a little deeper in your mouth, lightly squeezing his shaft, letting a little moan escape your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me?” His voice is a little raspy. You make a noise that approximates a yes. “Yeah? You like that?”

You nod—it’s not a lie either. Something about the way that the salty sweet tang of your arousal pairs with the clean, musky taste of his cock conjures a particular flood of endorphins and serotonin, bringing still more slickness to your cunt.

“Fuck. I’m so tempted to come in your mouth.” He’s still in control, but his eyes are a little unfocused and there’s a slight hitch in his breath. “I’m going to save it for your cunt, but fuck, your mouth feels good.”

You drag your tongue along the slight indentation just below the tip of his cock and he inhales sharply, brows drawing together. You gently massage your tongue against that spot, occasionally alternating with sucking hard on the tip.

“Oh, you are such a fucking tease,” he bites out between groans, his hand firm on the back of your head. But he doesn’t push you off until a minute later, when his control of his composure is truly starting to fray.

“Up.” He tugs you to your feet and pulls you back into his lap, making sure your legs are spread wide across his thighs. He slides his fingers between your folds, his eyes gleaming with raw greed. “You liked sucking me off. You’re even wetter than before—your pussy’s practically drooling.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I like making you feel good, sir.”

“Yeah?” His thumb glides up to lightly graze your clit while his index finger traces your entrance. “Should I make you feel good, too?”

You nod. “Please, sir.”

He slowly sinks his index finger inside you and you let out a low, wanton moan.

“Oh, you’re tight, love.” His voice is so soft, a sharp contrast to the noise you just made. His finger curls, rubbing against that soft aching spot inside you. “You really think your snug little pussy can take my big cock?”

You shiver, the muscles of your cunt tightening and flexing around his finger. “Please, sir. I fucking need it so bad. I need you to fuck me with your big, thick cock.”

He kisses you, his mouth soft and slow, almost sweet. He draws back, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you ready to come?” he murmurs, the softness of his voice belied by the fire in his eyes.

“Oh god, yes.” Your answer comes before you can even think about it. “Please, sir, I’m so fucking ready.”

“Yeah? You want me to take care of your needy cunt?”

You nod. “Yes, sir. Please. I’ve been so good for you.”

He hums. “You have been a very good girl for me. Taking my orders, sucking my cock.” His gaze is thoughtful, assessing—and still darkly hungry. “This is what I want: I want to make you come and I want you to scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel so good. I want them all to know who this sweet pussy belongs to, whose cock is ruining you for everyone else.”

You are desperate enough to agree to a lot, but this is exactly what you hoped he’d say. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes darken. “You keep calling me sir for now, but I want you to use my name when you come.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He presses a soft kiss against your lips. “Lie back on the bed.”

You climb on the bed and lie back as he settles himself between your legs, bringing your thighs over his shoulders. His thumbs spread you open, eyes gleaming with raw greed. You take a deep shuddering breath, biting back yet another embarrassing whine.

He leans in, inhaling deeply. “I have been absolutely dying for a taste of this pussy.”

Your legs are shaking. His mouth is so close that you can feel the heat of his breath.

“The moment we met, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I made you come in my mouth.”

The tip of his tongue ghosts against your clit. It’s brief—barely a tap, not anywhere enough to provide anything resembling relief. Before you can do anything, he retreats.

He looks up at you, eyes dark and hungry. “Just as sweet as I thought. Sweeter, even.”

“Please,” you breathe.

The tip of his tongue grazes your clit again and withdraws.

You whimper. “James.”

This seems to move the needle. He sucks in a sharp breath and then the heat of his mouth is enveloping your aching clit.

His strategy before was to tease, to withhold; now, though, it’s as though he’s trying to make up for lost time. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, tracing brisk circles that leave you gasping. He slides a finger inside you, curling and stroking until your hips lift to meet him, until you’re wet enough to take a second one. His fingers are as clever as his tongue, quickly finding the right pace and curling and stroking in just the right way. If he told you he’d spent the last several years studying the exact way to get you off, you would believe him because that’s how attuned he is to your needs. No movement is wasted, every choice is deliberate, considered. You thought that being ruined for others was something of an exaggeration, but you can feel it starting to become your reality as he unwinds all the tension and teasing to what is sure to be a truly spectacular end.

“James.” His name falls from your lips without thought. He looks up at you, eyes blazing with want. You gasp, the tension in your hips tightening to that final point, your cunt desperately squeezing his fingers as your clit thrums in his mouth. “James, I’m gonna—”

The rest of your sentence is lost to the onslaught of your orgasm. The noise you make is so rough and primal that you would be embarrassed had you not completely abandoned your capacity to feel shame when you started calling him sir and begging for his cock. His tongue on your clit has set off a fountain of fizzing sparks that are only egged on by the way your cunt clenches around his thrusting fingers. Conrad groans into your cunt like this is just as enjoyable for him as it is for you, his pace and attention never faltering for a moment, as though his primary purpose is to devour and worship. Your back arches and you moan, your hands gripping the bedsheets and then his hair as you lose yourself to days of pent up energy.

He doesn’t stop, though, his mouth still massaging your clit and his fingers curling and stroking inside you. A third finger squeezes inside you and you moan at the stretch, feeling like it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. But soon enough, the waves of feeling that you thought had dispersed are gathering again, thrall to the tidal push and pull of his tongue and fingers. You cry out, back arching as you come again, harder than before, body quaking, cunt dripping, hands gripping his hair like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

He lets you come down fully this time, crawling up your body to kiss you once you catch your breath. “You taste so fucking sweet when you come.” His voice is a growl against your lips.

You wrap your legs around his waist, desperately grinding yourself against him. “Need you. Please.”

That cocky smirk is back. “You just came twice and you still want my cock?”

There’s no point in even trying to pretend otherwise. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I want you to claim me.”

“Yeah?” He shifts his weight slightly, reaching between you and rubbing the head of his cock in a slow circle on your clit. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

“I need it.”

With agonizing slowness, he drags his cock down to your entrance. He presses ever so gently against you, just enough to make you feel how thick he is. “That enough for you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head vehemently. “I want you to fill me up and fuck me.”

“Fill you up and fuck you, hm?” He eases the tip of his cock inside you. “Like that?”

You shiver. “More.”

He inches forward. “Is this enough?” His smile is wicked.

“James, please.”

He chuckles, but he concedes at last. It’s a long, toe curling thrust before he bottoms out inside you, a tight fit that knocks the breath from your lungs in the most delicious way while the muscles of your cunt tighten and tremble around him.

Conrad groans deep and low, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking hell, you are tight, love.”

You are close to completely blissed out, but not so much that you miss this opportunity: “I’ll be even tighter if you make me come again.”

He smirks and rolls his hips once, nearly ungluing you as his cock seems to stroke every aching place inside of you. “If I make you come again? Sweetheart, we haven’t even started and you’re a fucking mess—I’m more concerned that you’re not going to be able to stop coming.”

You can’t resist a weak smirk, even as you’re slowly starting to unravel like he claims. “Right. So you should—oh, fuck yes—you should have no trouble meeting that challenge.”

He frowns, his expression going stern again in a way that makes you shiver. “You’re getting awfully mouthy. Am I going to have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

Despite your best efforts, desire floods your cunt and you clench around his cock. A sly, knowing smile pulls at his lips.

“You filthy girl, that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” He gives one gentle thrust that makes your toes curl.

You lick your lips. “What if I do?”

He smirks. “Well, that would be awfully convenient because I desperately need a mouthy slut to come on my cock until she learns her fucking lesson.” His hips snap hard against you and you moan. “You think you can do that?”

You’re utterly wrecked for him, but you can’t resist one last bit of snark: “Stop talking about it and find out.”

His smile is sharp and a little dangerous, but you love it. “You are such a fucking brat.”

You bite your lower lip and clench your muscles on his cock. “Fuck it out of me, then.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” He tries a few shallow thrusts, searching until his cock finally finds that spot inside you that makes you keen and draws a hungry smile on his lips. “That’s where you need me, hm? Right here?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, running your nails up along his back.

He works a hand between your legs, his thumb rolling over the hood of your clit, rubbing in time with each thrust of his hips.

“Oh god, James.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, devouring you with his gaze. “I wish you could see how fucking good you look taking my cock like this.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “I fucking love your cock.”

A low, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. “What do you love about my cock?”

“It’s so big. And thick.” You gasp, clenching as he thrusts into you. “And you know how to fuck me just right.”

“Mmm. This is what you needed, isn’t it? Someone who knows exactly how to take care of your needy little cunt and turn you into a good girl.”

You nod, your lips parting as he keeps hitting that spot inside you.

“You love this, don’t you? You love being my obedient little slut and letting me claim your dripping pussy with my big hard cock.”

You shudder. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes turn steely. “I asked you a question.”

Still more slickness rushes to your cunt. “Yes, I fucking love this, I love being your slut, I love it so much, god, I wanna come so bad.”

You’re close to coming, your cunt already starting to clench on his cock. Conrad’s fingers leave your clit and before you can complain, he’s guiding your hand to replace his. Your fingers automatically fall into a brisk rhythm, as he braces both arms on either side of you, trading his leisurely pace for steadier, firmer thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s what you needed,” he rasps as you moan. “Just a little more, just a little harder.”

“James.” Words are slightly beyond you now, but his name burns bright in your mind and on your lips.

“You gonna come on my cock, gorgeous?”

You nod and work your clit a little faster. You’re so close and he feels so good.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?”

You nod, a simple yes far beyond you right now.

“Then let me feel you come hard.”

It’s the final push that you need and you cry out as your fingers and his cock tip you headfirst into a toe curling orgasm.

“Good girl,” he purrs as you shake in his arms, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Christ, you feel too fucking good when you come. Your tight little pussy gets even tighter.”

“Keep going,” you gasp. “Keep going, please.”

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I get my fill,” he murmurs. “Though you’re so fucking tight, I don’t even know if there will be room for my come.”

He has one of the filthiest mouths you’ve ever heard and it’s doing things to your body that you’ve never experienced before.

“You love it when I talk to you like this, don’t you?” he drawls with a bit of a smirk. “Every time I say something filthy to you, I feel you clench on my cock.” His eyes get darker and you know he’s about to up the ante. “But I noticed that I tend to get the strongest reactions when I call you my good girl…”

You would like to be able to deny this, but it’s unmistakable: your cunt clamps down hard on his cock.

He grins. “Or when I call you my slut.”

Your cunt clenches again and he smirks.

“So which is it, do you think?” His hips thrust just a little harder. “Do you want to be my good girl or my slut?”

“Both,” you breathe. Your brow furrows and your lips part—he’s hitting that tender spot inside you and you feel yourself starting to tense in a very telling way. “Oh god, James.”

“Oh yes, you’re about to come again, you filthy girl.” He says this confidently and increases his pace just slightly. “You really are a slut, aren’t you? You just can’t get enough of my cock.”

You have rapidly ascended to the point where you can only manage an affirmative whimper and not actual words.

Conrad smiles. “Now be a good girl and make a mess on my cock like a perfect little slut.”

You arch, fingernails digging into his back and a sharp cry falling from your lips as you come for him, your whole body shaking with effort.

“Fucking hell.” He’s slowed his pace slightly, waiting for you to catch your breath before rolling the two of you over so he lies on his back. “Go on,” he says, his gaze dragging appreciatively over your body, “ride my cock and give me a little show.”

“Yes, sir.” You roll your hips, searching out that angle he’d been teasing you with earlier. You begin to ride him as you find it, letting out a low moan as you tilt your head back. You’re in that heady space where it’s easy to keep coming with the right stimulation and Conrad’s cock and filthy mouth are insanely well suited to that purpose.

“Good girl.” His voice is a low rasp. “You gonna come on my cock again?”

You nod and guide his hand to your clit. “Help me out.”

“You’re getting bold.” He smirks, but his fingers start working your clit. You roll your hips and arch your back, running your hands down your thighs all the way up to cup your breasts.

Conrad is rapt as he watches you ride him, his fingers still working your clit. “I wish you could see how fucking beautiful you are right now. Absolutely stunning.”

You whimper, rocking your hips just a little faster. You squeeze your nipples, plucking at the sensitive skin.

“Oh, that’s it, take what you need. Your needy cunt needs relief, doesn’t it? You’ve been such a good girl tonight and good girls get to come on my cock as much as they can.”

You shudder, your cunt clenching hard on his cock.

“I think my cock was made for your pussy. You feel so fucking good.” He groans, his hips rocking up into you. “I’m not gonna be able to hold off when you come this time. The minute I feel you start to come, I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yes.” You’re shaking now, brow furrowing as you feel your orgasm rise inside you. “Oh, god, yes.”

“Oh, you’re fucking close.” His fingers press more firmly on your clit. “Come for me, gorgeous, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”

With his words, your orgasm blossoms in your belly, your cunt clenching hard on his cock. Conrad groans, his eyes fluttering shut as you ride him.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” His hips drive up into you a little harder as he starts chasing his own high.

You lean down, pressing your chest against his as you keep riding the pulsing waves of pleasure. He grabs your ass with both hands and presses his feet flat against the mattress, giving him enough leverage to thrust up into you at a wicked fast pace. You moan as his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you once again.

His jaw is tight as he fucks you hard, but his lips start to part the closer he gets.

“Come for me,” you murmur. “I’ve wanted this for days. Let me see you come.” You lower your voice further. “I want you to claim me, James. Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Fuck. Yes—fuck, fuck, fu—” His words give way to a gasp and then a low groan that sounds like pure bliss as he spills inside you.

His hips roll against you for a while as he rides out his orgasm, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. “That’s so fucking good,” he murmurs, his words slurring just slightly as his hips begin to slow. “Fuck, I needed that.”

You intend to sit up, to give him a little space, but instead, he pulls you into a deep and slow kiss, one that surprises you with its tenderness. His cock throbs inside you still, but you don’t mind the closeness. He strokes his hand up your spine and back down and you’re tempted to purr like a cat.

His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw to your ear and then your neck.

It’s like this for a while—soft searching kisses, his large hands caressing your bare skin, your hands tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He’s the first to get up, stumbling to the bathroom for a damp washcloth, cleaning the two of you up with a tenderness you don’t quite expect.

He returns to bed a few minutes later and you both lie there, face-to-face. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both consider the weight of what you’ve just done and what it means going forward.

Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach as you stare at his face. You know what you want; you just don’t know whether it’s in reach.

Conrad is the first to speak.

“In hindsight,” he says, propping his head up with his hand, “we probably should have just done that to begin with.”

A relieved, breathy laugh tumbles from your lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

His eyebrows lift and his face falls into an expression of playful surprise. “Did you just voluntarily admit that I’m right?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Oh spare me.”

“No, I mean, I thought my cock was good, but not on the order of performing miracles—”

You swat at him. “You’re making me sound far more unreasonable than I am.”

He grins and loops an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Mmm, I suppose I might have exaggerated slightly.”

“A little more than slightly.”

He shrugs and gives you another easy smile. “If you want to get technical.”

You look up at him, your heart beating fast. His eyes look particularly blue in this light—almost aquamarine. He examines your face carefully, one hand tracing the line of your jaw.

“So is this a truce or do you still hate me?” You don’t plan to ask this question until you find yourself saying it out loud.

Conrad frowns, a flicker of confusion lighting up his eyes. “I never hated you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I found you extremely frustrating,” he says, still tracing his finger along your cheek. “A bit stubborn and hard-headed. Wildly attractive to an inconvenient and distracting degree. But I never hated you.”

Your stomach flips. “I suppose I should also confess that I didn’t hate you either.”

“Not even a little?” His expression is gently teasing and it warms you in a way that you don’t expect.

“I mean, you could be a little bit of a jerk,” you say. “And you pissed me off a lot. But mostly, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you.”

“Well,” he says, his fingertips still stroking your cheek, “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“Me too.”

There’s a comfortable, easy silence. You feel sated and pleasantly sleepy.

“So,” says Conrad, “do you think I might take you out to dinner once this is all over?”

You offer him a slow smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He traces his finger along your neck and down to your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “I suppose until then we’re just going to have to use this time to work out the remainder of our sexual frustration.”

You smile, even as your stomach flips. “I mean, there’s quite a lot to work out.”

“It may take months,” he says solemnly and you laugh.

There’s another comfortable beat of quiet.

He clears his throat. “I’m, ah, not always quite so stern during sex.” There’s a faint flush to his cheeks and you can’t help but find it endearing.

“I mean…I really liked it,” you say, your cheeks burning just a little. “I’m fine mixing it up a bit from time to time, but I also don’t have any issue with how you were tonight.” You give him a wry smirk. “I might not always be quite as cooperative, though.”

His gaze darkens just slightly. “Then I’ll just have to come up with some appropriate punishments, won’t I?”

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He smiles and pulls you flush against him. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

#james conrad smut #james conrad x reader #james conrad x reader smut #james conrad x female reader #james conrad x female reader smut #james conrad reader fanfic

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saphiccarma · 4 months ago

Text

- Post Bellum

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - After the military, you're left fumbling with your life, unsure of what to do. In comes the prospect of private contracting, and you get hired by two insanely hot women.

Warnings: ✨Trauma✨

A/N: this is more of an intro chapter, but there is more to come I promise. This isn't going to be so much so a series, rather a bunch of interconnected one-shots with some semblence of a timeline and plot

The army was never really your choice. Both of your parents had been in the military, your mother in the air force and your father in the navy seals. They had met afterward, bonding over shared trauma, and eventually they had a kid. A kid, you, who was pressured into joining the army and beating your parents’ standards. A kid who suffered a lot during her deployment. A kid, who retired from the military at a young age, early twenties because you joined as soon as you were eighteen. Your father joined when he was twenty, your mother twenty-two, so of course you had to beat that record as well.

While you regretted signing up, you did have some good memories. Hanging out with your crew around a small fire, only letting it burn for a little while so as to not draw too much attention, chatting softly. Or sitting in the dirt, a gun pressed against your shoulder with blood and tears covering your face. You remembered sitting in the barracks after grueling hours of training, sweat dripping down your back and soaking your shirt through while you laughed, exhausted.

After the marine corps, the division you were in, one of the hardest ones, you wanted peace. You wanted to live a peaceful life without flinching at every little sound and having to take the night shift. You wanted to live a life without being paranoid that someone would leap out and jump you, or that a barking dog would charge at you. Everything that reminded you, even the slightest of your time serving, set you off. It was impossible to get a moment of peace.

Your parents suggested therapy, part of the reason you lived in N.Y, but after one session you quit. New York supposedly had one of the best post-military therapy groups. It was a bunch of bullshit where you talked about feelings and shit. Nothing you were interested in. Not that they knew that. You told them you kept going and that it was helping. They called you often, but half the time you ignored their calls, claiming you were busy. To them, you were living a good life. A life where you had a good job and you were okay.

But you weren’t okay. You still woke up in cold sweats, looking around your room with frantic eyes as you searched for potential threats and your hands tightening around the gun you kept on the bedside table. Screams echoing in your mind, whether they were from children or adults – your own or your friends. The shadows in your apartment seemed darker, more ominous than they looked when you were a kid. Your father wasn't there to protect you anymore, nor your mother, hugging you tight and placing a tender kiss on your head. The shadows, the invisible monsters, were supposed to go away once you got older, but they only got worse. And your parents weren’t here to help.

They lived across the country in L.A while you were in New York. It was a decision that you regretted, but you had paid months in advance for the apartment, so there was no going back. It was constantly moving in N.Y, a constant source of noise that never stopped, even at night. A lot of sleepless nights occurred because of that. New York never slept so you rarely did.

Point is, you couldn't rest. Peace never came no matter how hard you tried. You tried all sorts of hobbies, bird watching, knitting, sewing, reading, video games - everything. You tried it all and only the last two stuck really, but they did nothing to stop the constant buzz of fearful anticipation that ran through your veins. You were constantly on edge, unable to turn off your senses. New York was far too loud for you to settle down and you wished that you had chosen someplace else to stay.

An old friend, one of your mentors from the military, suggested private contracting. You had called him one night, breathless and wide-eyed. Desperate for someone to remind you that you were safe, that none of your fears were real. He soothed you, his voice calm over the phone before he suggested contracting. So, you figured out how to sign up for it and listed your services. It turns out, that after some research, private work paid a lot. Like a lot. If this worked out, you would be rich in no time.

You ran a hand down your face as you stared at the blue light of your computer, emails sitting dauntingly in front of you, all of them marked unread. The clock on your computer told you it was 3 am, a common occurrence for you. Within just a couple days, you had about dozen people reach out. And you thought you were ready. Yet simply clicking on a single email seemed like an impossible task. The idea of committing to a person, surrendering part of your control felt like too much.

Fingers twitching on the mouse, you closed your eyes before scrolling then randomly selecting on one. Looking over it, you thought that maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Two women, both married, in need of a personal bodyguard. Both rich, successful, lawyers who had made a lot of enemies over the years. They were looking for someone to accompany either of them throughout the day. You chewed on your lip as you thought it over, looking at the name at the end of the email. Agatha.

With your sleep-ridden brain, you somehow thought it was a good idea to respond now, and you clicked reply. It was tempting enough. They were offering a shit ton of money that would have you set for a long while. You managed to type up something coherent, agreeing to meet up with her tomorrow, absently typing in a time and place. Some coffee shop you visit often. You slammed your computer shut, jumping at the noise it made.

You settled back into your bed, setting your gun down onto the table next to you and sitting up against the headboard. Your eyes flickered around the room constantly, hardly able to rest at night. The shadows in your room were screaming at you, voices of the past that pleaded for help. As much as you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut, block out the noise and try to quiet your mind, but you couldn’t. That would mean being vulnerable.

Eventually your eyes started drooping shut, exhausted from days spent with little to no sleep, and it was already 5 by the time you fell asleep.

^______________^

Your neck hurt when you woke up, a small line of drool streaming from the corner of your mouth. A sign you slept heavily. Wiping it away, you glanced at the clock groggily, jolting when you saw the time. You threw the sheets off you, scrambling out of bed to get dressed. It was 10:30 and faintly, although just barely, you remembered you were meeting up with Agatha at 11. The shop was a good walk away from your apartment. It was nice to have that little bit of exercise in your routine. Not that you didn't go the gym every day and run until your lungs were screaming and lungs were burning.

You brushed your hair and your teeth, groaning at the apparent eye bags. You threw a pair of nice pants on, at least ones that were presentable, and a shirt. A jacket was thrown over that shirt with loose sleeves that allowed mobility. You clipped your holster onto your belt, making sure you had your concealed license in your wallet, and you tucked your gun into its spot. The last thing you wanted was the get stopped because you didn’t have your license on you. Sliding your boots on, you made sure that a knife was placed in there, a backup weapon just in case you needed it. With one last pat down, making sure your laces were double knotted and secure, and your belt was tight, you rushed out the door.

And you turned promptly back around, slamming your shoe against the door to prevent it from closing. You forgot your keys and the printed version of the contract. After they were both successfully nabbed from where they had been carelessly thrown, you were racing down the stairs. Children screamed from inside their parent's apartments, and you tried not to flinch or close your eyes and freeze up right there. Instead, you rushed out of the apartment complex.

The bustling streets of New York hit you like a semi-truck, crashing into you with surprising force. You took a deep breath. You did this every day. It was just people. You could do it. Slowly, you took steps, weaving through the crowds of people. You ignored the way your heartbeat uncontrollably in your chest - it was a common occurrence by now. You were hyper aware of the people and everything they were doing A man reached into his pocket rather quick and you nearly drew your gun.

You followed the roads with practiced ease, even despite the hammering of your heart and the way your ears perked at every little sound. It took a while to make your way through a bunch of people until you reached the cafe. It was a nice corner in the wall shop, quiet with hardly anyone in there most of the time. The prices were cheap, the workers were not loud at all, taking your order with a polite nod. You appreciated it. They seemed to know you like the quiet, not even trying to strike up small conversation like they did with other customers.

Heading up to the counter, you inhaled slowly to calm your breathing before ordering a large iced coffee with two extra shots. That should help keep you awake. You took a seat, fiddling with your thumbs nervously, for some odd reason. You weren't sure why you were nervous. Your coffee was served, and you spent the time anxiously sipping on your drink, relishing in the way caffeine helped wake you up. And after what felt like forever, the door opened, and two very elegant looking women walked in.

You choked on your breath, nearly doing the same to your coffee. It was very clear that they were your soon-to-be employers.

The first had brown hair that was pinned up into a bun, blue eyes shimmering as she glanced around. Her eyes were calculating and cold but held a tint of warmth that you were able to pick out. Pink lipstick adorned her lips that were pursed into a thin line. She was dressed nicely, with boots that clacked on the floor with every step she took.

The other had similar hair, except hers was wavy instead of curly, falling elegantly down her shoulders. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown that seemed as if they had infinite secrets. Her own steps were silent, quieter than the subtle music that drifted through the cafe. You liked that immediately.

The blue-eyed one spotted you first, her lips pulling into a small smile before she made her way over. You stood, your chair pushed back a bit louder than intended and wiped your palms on your pants. You didn't bother to force a smile onto your face, rather just nodding in greeting.

"Hi, my name's Y/N," you introduced, your voice steady and calm. You had half a mind to stick your hand in greeting, but just the thought of it made you internally shake your head. It was relief when neither of them offered their hand.

"Agatha," the blue-eyed woman introduced, her voice silky smooth, "This is Rio."

Rio grinned, her smile cat-like, and eyes glinting with mischief. It instantly set you on edge, "Y/N is a beautiful name," she purred. She tilted her head, brown eyes taking you in.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, "Can I get you guys anything to drink? Or do you just want to dive right in?"

"Rio will get us some drinks. You and I can get started." Agatha slid into the seat across from you, her long fingers folding in front of her. You sat across from her.

You weren't sure how long it took to go over the terms of the contract, discussing it all in great detail. Both of you had to know what was happening, all the exact terms of the job and what was expected from you as a private contractor, and from her as an employer. Rio joined after retrieving drinks, sipping on her own as she leaned back into her seat, casually crossing her legs. She reminded you of a cat. Calm and composed with a silent smile that spoke volumes, her body portraying so many of her thoughts.

Agatha was different. Her micro-expressions gave everything away, all of her thoughts. One of the many things you had taken from the military was how to read people. People expressed themselves in various different ways. Whether it was clear, voicing their exact thoughts whenever they wanted to. Others were more quiet, only speaking when prompted, but their bodies gave away more than they would like. Little movements, the tensing of their arms, shifting of feet, hunched shoulders - it all gave something away. Rio was one of those people. Agatha wasn't either of those people. She was the quiet commanding type. Tiny expressions on her face, the little twitch of her nose or slight curve of her lips told you what she was feeling. She was a perfect mix of voicing her thoughts yet keeping them close to her chest.

They were certainly an interesting pair.

By the end, you had gone through your entire cup of coffee, and you were still exhausted. Agatha gave you a little smile, her eyes shining with a small bit of hope that was just hardly visible, as she stood from the table.

"I will meet you tomorrow at our place? I'll text you the address." Agatha had gotten your phone number right before the conversation ended. Her words left no room for negotiation, and you nodded, standing from your own seat.

"Yes ma'am."

Rio grinned her smile wide, and you faintly heard her whisper while she walked out with her wife, "I like her."

Taglist: @poppyshuman

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha harkness x you #rio vidal x you

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agaypanic · 1 year ago

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heyyy, can I request a chase x fem!reader oneshot where they are like online friends and have grown to like eachother so much to the point he invites her to the island. He's boasting about it but no one believes him until she shows up. Chase is giving her a tour and some of the guys try to show off how powerfull they are and shes not impressed, she's only ever blown away when chase starts to talk all genius-like (Because intellegience is such an aphrodisiac). Its a little based off that one episode where hes defending himself from the others saying how he has talked to girls and that he has an online friend who is possibly a girl.

Smart's Considered Superior (Chase Davenport X Reader)

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Summary: Chase decides to invite one of his online friends to the island. Everyone’s shocked to find that this person actually exists, and even more so when it’s a girl. Chase’s brothers try to impress her with their bionics, but she’s too focused on Chase’s intelligence to even spare a glance.

A/N: in this, chase helped donald make leo’s bionic leg for plot purposes

***

Chase was known to be a perfectionist. Being the most intelligent man in the world gave the boy a superiority complex. He needed everything to be his way, and his way was always above and beyond anyone else’s standards.

So no one was too surprised to see him running around the academy to make sure everything was spick and span, and everyone was on their best behavior.

“Chase, what’s up with you?” Bree asked as she watched her brother frantically clean up the Mentor’s Quarters they shared. “You're being weird.”

“Weirder than usual.” Adam corrected.

“I have a friend coming over,” Chase answered shortly.

“A friend?” Adam, Bree, and Leo looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. Chase rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, heading to the common area. His siblings followed him, still amused. “Very funny, Chase.”

“I’m serious,” the genius hissed, stopping in front of the hydroloop’s doors. “She’s on her way right now.”

“She?” Adam’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Now I know it’s a joke.”

“It’s not a joke. You can see for yourself.”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Adam settled into a chair by the window, keeping a watchful eye on the hydroloop station. Bree and Leo quickly joined him.

Chase shook his head before turning back to the hydroloop. No matter how much teasing he would endure from his family, he was determined to enjoy today.

After about a minute, Chase’s siblings were waiting for him to drop the act. Nothing was happening.

But then suddenly, the hydroloop car could be heard zooming into the station. Everyone perked up, waiting for the doors to open to see who would be on the other side.

“Oh my god.” Bree gasped as she watched someone step out of the hydroloop. “It is a girl!”

Adam, Bree, and Leo watched in disbelief as you stepped into the common area, smiling at Chase. He reached out for a hug, which you eagerly returned. In a flash, the three siblings were out of their seats and standing close to you and Chase, observing the interaction curiously.

“It’s so great to finally see you- Oh!” You were talking to Chase when the sudden presence of the three others surprised you. Chase sighed.

“Y/n, these are my siblings; Adam, Bree, and Leo. Guys, this is my friend Y/n.”

“You’re friends with a girl?” You couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s question. Chase sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly less amused. “How did you even meet her?”

“Online,” you answered simply before deciding to go into the long explanation of it. “Well, I went to Mission Creek High, but Chase and I had only interacted a little bit. And then you guys got busted for the whole bionic thing and moved here, so we fell out of touch, but then we found each other again online. We’ve been talking for, like, months before Chase finally asked me to come over here.”

Adam, Bree, and Leo stared at you, processing what you had just told them.

“No, this has to be a prank.” Leo decided, much to Chase’s chagrin.

“Come on, Y/n. I’ll show you around the academy.” Chase gently but quickly guided you away from his siblings, who were hot on your tails.

***

“And this is the training center,” Chase said, taking you to the last stop on the tour. There were a few students scattered around, talking or sparring with each other. “Once a week, we have bionic battles so the students can move up a level. But besides that, they just come in to show off to each other.”

“Hey, Y/n!” Adam called out from across the large room.

“Like now.” Chase rolled his eyes, and the four of you looked at the eldest Davenport.

“Watch this!” With an excited smile on his lips, Adam bent over and easily picked up a large medicine ball. “This is like a thousand pounds, and it feels like holding a baby. Or Leo.”

“Shut up, Adam,” Leo whined at the comment. Meanwhile, you looked only slightly impressed at Adam’s abilities. Leo shook his head and turned to you. “You know, I’m bionic, too,” he said with a smirk.

“Really?” you asked, slightly surprised. From what you could remember from going to school with the Davenports, Leo seemed pretty normal—well, normal for Leo.

“Just his arm and leg,” Chase corrected, and you turned to look at him curiously, silently asking for more information. “Well, our bionics are microchips implanted in our necks and integrated with our nervous systems. But Leo’s right arm and left leg were destroyed in different incidents, so the damaged pieces were replaced with bionic technology.”

“Oh wow,” you said, completely fascinated. Not with Leo, even though the conversation was about him. It was Chase, and the way he talked made it seem like he was an expert in the subject, and it was easy to recall any piece of information. You suppose that that was true about any subject in the world. “Who did all that?”

“Well-” Leo tried to reenter the conversation but was cut off by Chase.

“The arm was made by Douglas Davenport, who, long story short, is our biological father. And the leg was made by me and Mr. Davenport.”

“You made a bionic leg?” You asked, stepping closer to Chase in your excitement. “How?!”

Chase smiled, quickly falling into a spiel about how he repaired Leo’s leg with bionic technology. Every now and then, Leo would try to say something, or Adam would try to get your attention by lifting a few thousand pounds. But they quickly realized their attempts were futile because you hung on to every word Chase was giving you, completely captivated by his knowledge and the charisma that radiated off of him because of it.

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #lab rats #lab rats x reader

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aventurineswife · 5 months ago

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HELLOOOO, i was wondering:

A reader that likes watch anime, and some HSR characters gives them a try. But, what anime would you think they watch with the reader? Based on what they like or just something to start watching.

I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE, please don't overwork yourself a lot, have a nice day/night! <3

What Anime Would They Watch With You?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Blade x Reader, Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Anime Watching, Humor, Lighthearted moments, Comfort and Bonding, Can be read Platonically or Romantically.

Warnings: Mentions of psychological trauma, Light spoilers for anime, Philosophical and existential themes, Violence and combat (in anime contexts), Emotional conflict, Mild language (?), Possible mild angst(?).

A/N: I don’t watch much anime, but my sister does, so I based the anime choices on what she’s watched and told me about, as well as clips I’ve seen on yt shorts 🫣😔 ALSO THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 I'LL TRY MY BEST HEHE

Aventurine stands in front of the TV, his eyes glinting with curiosity. His usual confidence is slightly tempered by the unfamiliarity of the moment — an evening of anime watching. He’s dressed in his usual stylish attire, the gold accents catching the light as he adjusts the remote with his gloved fingers. His gaze flickers to you, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"So," he begins, voice smooth like a well-played hand in poker, "what do we watch tonight? I suppose I should try something new. But, I must admit, I prefer shows with a bit of strategy — something that makes you think, perhaps a game of intellect or manipulation."

You suggest Death Note, the classic tale of the battle between genius minds.

Aventurine’s smile widens. “Ah, an excellent choice. A battle of wits, a contest of who can outsmart whom. Much like life itself. I must say, the intrigue here appeals to me. The protagonist, Light Yagami, reminds me of someone who knows how to play the game... and win.”

As the opening credits roll, Aventurine lounges back, his eyes gleaming with the same focus he applies to his work at IPC. The intricate web of psychological tension between Light and L unfolds in a way that mirrors his own thinking — everything calculated, every move deliberate. The darker twists intrigue him, and he often leans over to comment on Light’s strategy, or offer his own hypothetical alternatives. Every so often, he’ll pause to explain a parallel to a strategic investment move, his voice laced with a playfulness only you can appreciate.

The night is filled with insightful discussions, his enjoyment of the show evident not just in his words but in the way his eyes spark with intellectual thrill.

Ratio enters your living room, dressed in his usual academic attire, though he seems slightly more relaxed than usual. His hair is perfectly in place, and he adjusts his glasses, his piercing eyes scanning the shelves. He’s intrigued by the idea of anime, but like everything else, he believes it must meet the highest intellectual standards.

"I assume this will be a pursuit of knowledge, correct?" he asks, his tone indicating that he is less concerned with entertainment and more with what the anime can teach him.

You offer him Steins;Gate, a mind-bending tale of time travel and its implications. Ratio raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Time travel," he mutters. "The concept is fraught with paradoxes, theoretical inconsistencies... But let's see how this unfolds."

As the show progresses, you can tell Ratio is captivated. His usual dismissiveness towards “mediocre” content fades as he engages with the intricacies of the plot. He is particularly drawn to the scientific explanations of time travel, making insightful comments about the laws of causality. The intellectual depth of Steins;Gate resonates with him, and he begins to see the show as more than just entertainment but as an exploration of the human condition through the lens of scientific theory.

His stern exterior softens slightly as he leans forward, absorbed by the delicate unraveling of fate. At one point, he pauses the show to make an impassioned argument about the ethics of time travel, his eyes alight with the thrill of the debate.

Feixiao, in her usual battle-ready attire, steps into your space with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing slightly in skepticism. She’s not one for frivolous distractions, but she’s willing to give this anime thing a try — provided it’s something that involves action, strategy, and perhaps a little bit of inner conflict.

"You’d better not have picked something weak," she says with a smirk, her voice unwavering. "I don't have time for anything that isn't worthy of my attention."

You suggest Attack on Titan, with its intense battles and deep emotional conflicts. Feixiao grunts in approval.

"Alright, let’s see if they can deliver on the carnage." she says, as the opening scene plays out.

She’s immediately absorbed by the ferocity of the Titans and the desperation of humanity’s fight for survival. The battles, filled with adrenaline and relentless pursuit, mirror the kinds of conflicts she knows too well. She’s particularly drawn to Eren Yeager’s inner struggles — the deep rage that simmers beneath his resolve.

"That’s what I like to see," Feixiao mutters under her breath, her eyes flashing with approval as the protagonists fight with everything they have. "There’s more to these battles than just the physical; there’s emotion, too. A warrior’s mind is as sharp as their blade."

Throughout the night, she becomes invested in the character dynamics, especially Eren’s moral dilemmas. The show's dark tone and brutal honesty about the human condition resonate with her, and she even offers some commentary on the combat strategies used by the soldiers.

By the end of the night, she’s hooked, her face flushed with the excitement of both the action and the emotional weight of the series.

Blade steps into the room, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity, his demeanor as cold as the blade he wields. His mind constantly in turmoil, he’s not interested in frivolous entertainment. Everything he watches must speak to the darker aspects of his soul, and anything too light-hearted will not hold his attention.

You offer Neon Genesis Evangelion, a psychological and emotional rollercoaster that digs into the deep recesses of human existence. Blade’s expression is unreadable as he nods and sits, his eyes steely.

The first few episodes grip him, and soon he is fixated on Shinji Ikari’s inner torment — the crippling isolation, the struggle to find meaning in a world that seems bent on destruction. Blade sees pieces of himself in Shinji, his own existential struggle reflected on screen. He finds an unexpected resonance with the show's depiction of personal battles and the search for purpose in and the search for purpose in an uncaring world.

As the show delves into its more abstract and psychological themes, Blade’s face hardens in contemplation. He doesn’t speak much, but his occasional glances at you tell you everything you need to know — Neon Genesis Evangelion is more than just an anime to him; it’s a mirror to his own fractured soul.

By the end of the night, Blade is silent, lost in thought, the weight of the show's philosophical questions lingering in his mind.

Kafka strolls into the room with her usual cool confidence, adjusting her black jacket over her shoulders. Her hair sways slightly as she surveys the situation. While she doesn’t often indulge in entertainment, she’s intrigued by your suggestion to watch anime together. After all, there’s something elegant about the concept of using subtlety and manipulation to achieve one's ends, and Kafka is drawn to that kind of intrigue.

You offer Code Geass, a series filled with strategic battles, hidden motives, and complex characters. Kafka smirks, her interest piqued.

"This might be interesting. Let’s see if it lives up to the hype." she says, her voice smooth and measured.

As the episodes unfold, Kafka finds herself charmed by Lelouch vi Britannia’s calculating nature and his ability to manipulate others for his own purposes. She’s drawn to the layers of deception, the way Lelouch maneuvers through the world with his intelligence and charisma, much like herself.

"Ah, this is the kind of show I can appreciate," Kafka remarks, glancing at you with a knowing smile. "Power lies not in brute strength, but in the subtleties of the mind. Lelouch truly knows how to play the game."

By the end of the night, Kafka is hooked, her mind racing with the complex political strategies and moral questions the show raises. Her admiration for Lelouch’s ability to control events through sheer willpower is clear.

Silver Wolf lounges in her seat, her purple glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She’s always up for a challenge, and if anime is as much of a game as you say, then she’s ready to dive in. She’s looking for something that’s both fast-paced and unpredictable, a true test of her adaptability.

You suggest Psycho-Pass, a futuristic series that blends action with deep psychological exploration and questions about the nature of justice. Silver Wolf’s eyes light up as the opening credits roll.

"Alright, this looks fun," she remarks, her fingers tapping on her leg like she’s already hacking her way through the plot. "A system that reads people's intentions? Sounds like a game I could win."

As the series progresses, Silver Wolf becomes engrossed in the moral and psychological dilemmas the characters face. She’s particularly drawn to the futuristic technology, intrigued by the interplay between the systems that control society and the human minds that try to outwit them.

"I could hack my way through this world in no time." she chuckles to herself, but she’s also genuinely captivated by the philosophical questions raised. What is justice? Who decides what is right or wrong?

By the end of the night, Silver Wolf is already planning her next anime binge, eager to see what other “games” the world of anime has to offer.

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ireallyneedaintrestinglife · 5 months ago

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Everytime I see those scenes of Merlin calling Arthur fat and intending it as an insult I just get so upset. I know the show doesn't go super in depth into Merlins background as a peasant but like cmon he knows nothing of court rules and etiquette (episode 2 briefly mentions how he has to learn duelling etiquette which he still completely fucks up but still).

I think the show could've had a lot of fun exploring misunderstandings that arise as a result of their social status and if you're asking what plot relevance that has it can be Arthur learning to overcome years of Uthers horrible brainwashing.

Imagine if you will Merlin goes to compliment Arthur because he's feeling really down because Uther had told him to get close to a visiting princess and it DID NOT go well and Arthur was basically insulted appearance wise. So Merlin, being Merlin, goes to cheer him up by pointing out all the ways in which he looks good which results in him calling Arthur fat.

Arthur is understandably insulted, he's a prince and more than that a knight, he shouldn't be big by societies standards. So he's just standing there gaping at Merlin while Merlin has this big dumb content smile on his face cause he thinks he's just complimented Arthur (remember as a Peasant having meat on your bones was seen as attractive cause it meant you could actually eat).

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milla-frenchy · 7 months ago

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His favorite game

2k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you meet a corrupt security guard. (Un)fortunately, he's hot Warnings: 18+ mdni. Javi's pov, age gap (reader is 22, Javi in his 40s), darkish, dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie

a/n: this is written for @toomanystoriessolittletime 's follower celebration. I got this prompt/plot (darkish Javi P) Congrats on your milestone 🥳🥳

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 dividers @saradika-graphics

“I can suck your cock, if you want.”

Javi scoffed, until he realized she was dead serious. His dark eyes were on her, as he was leaning against his desk and she was sitting in front of him in a chair. He could see the worry in the shoplifter’s eyes. Concern that he'd call the cops.

So she told him the first thing that came to her mind. She thought he was handsome, anyway, with his brown hair, his slim waist, and his broad shoulders. His uniform, which would look ridiculous on anyone else, suited him well. She was sure he’d be devastating, in a bar, wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. She was also pretty sure she’d try to seduce him, that man in his forties, the perfect dilf. And hopefully ending up with him in his car or in his apartment.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he mocked. “And asking me to forget about the police, right? That's what you're telling me?”

“Yeah.”

He checked her ID, to be sure she wasn't under age.

Then he pointed at his crotch with his chin and lit a cigarette as she got on her knees and pulled his cock out. She sucked his tip, his cock, his balls, and he shot his cum deep into her throat, even before he finished his cig.

That's how it started. A week after his first day at the job.

After he had returned from Columbia, it helped him to forget his past life.

To forget that he didn’t get along with his father anymore, after he had told him that he wouldn’t take over the ranch.

To forget that he had lost himself in every woman he fucked, creating an endless circle.

To forget that he had never drunk and smoked so much in his life.

To forget that in the past some people considered him a hero. It was as if he wanted to prove them all that they were wrong.

To forget that he had given too much to the agency for his life to end up like that.

So since that first time, he took the habit of spotting women he could easily convince. The easy targets. Either too shy, or on the contrary those who weren’t shy at all. He really liked shutting up brats with his fat cock.

He loved the hunt, he loved spotting those who wouldn't say ’no’ to him. Either because they wouldn’t dare, or because they would easily take the challenge, the thrill, the chance of blowing him off in his office.

Javi sees a group of women passing in front of his security office. Twenty-somethings. He can notice these types of groups from miles away now. Young women who think they deserve everything because they’re pretty. Or rich.

He watches them laugh as they walk past him. Look at him. They must think it sucks, being a security guard at a mall.

He leaves his office and follows them inside, at a decent distance. He watches them laugh, loudly exchange comments, barely hiding the way they are making fun of people who don't fit their standards. It only makes him smirk. He's seen so many of these brats pass by.

His steps are soft, light. No one would think he was following anyone.

He's dressed in his black uniform with the word "security" on his shoulder and his back. He pauses at the same time as them. Swirls his toothpick between his teeth, watching them.

The group finally splits up. Three of the young women head to a clothing store. The fourth, you, waves goodbye to them and goes to a record store.

He’s watching you, as you look at the vinyl record covers, then the posters on the wall. And finally, some walkmans. You don't know it yet, but you’re his target. Separated from your friends.

You leave the store, your big purse slung over your shoulder, open.

He thinks that he really wants to wipe the smile off your face. So he steals a Walkman from the store, grateful that the mall management still hasn’t installed the anti-theft devices there.

This isn't the first time he places an object in a woman's bag, just to get her in his office. To see how she reacts. See if she offers to suck him off, too.

He slips the Walkman into your bag, then lets you head for the exit, letting the detectors beep loudly when you’re about to leave. He quickly runs towards you, as you’re looking confused. He asks you to open your bag and you do it, sure of yourself, but then you see the Walkman.

“Come with me, miss. You'll explain yourself in my office.”

You object the whole time walking there, saying you didn't do anything.

He’s already hard.

He closes the office door behind you and leans against his desk. Finding yourself alone with him in this office makes you a little uncomfortable, and you shift on your feet. He takes his time, letting your anxiety build, his gaze fixed on you. Cold. Frowning. Like an adult who’s about to lecture a child.

“So, miss. I have to call the police, you know.”

“I didn’t do anything!” you reply.

“Well, is that your purse, miss?”

“Yes, it’s my purse. But I didn’t steal this. I can buy one if I want, I can afford it.”

“Have you never heard of kleptomania?”

“No, what is it?”

“What, you don’t have enough money to pay for college?”

You roll your eyes, deeply offended.

“Anyway, like I said, I have to call the police,” he says, reaching for his phone.

“Wait!” He pauses and turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Mmm?”

“Can’t we… can we work it out?”

“Work it out? How do you want to work it out?”

“You take the Walkman and bring it back to the store. We forget all of this,” you say, sweeping the air with your hand, as if it was just a nuisance, something insignificant.

“So you can steal again in a few days? I don’t think so.”

“I told you…,” you start to say. Then stop. “Can I offer you some money then?”

“I don’t need your money, miss. And I’m not sure you understand how serious this is.”

You bite your lip, and he sees your gaze fall to his crotch and he tries not to smirk. It's almost too easy.

“Wait! I can… do something for you, if you want.”

“Like what?” he says, keeping his tone neutral. He sees you hesitate. Sees the way you swallow. He leans toward the phone again, forcing you to break.

“Wait! I could do something.”

He raises his hands, as if he doesn’t understand what you're talking about at all.

"I could...." you start to say, motioning at his crotch with your chin.

“What? I got a stain or something?” he asks, looking at the spot you pointed to.

“Suck your cock,” you whisper.

“Excuse me, what?” He sees you roll your eyes and adds, “I didn’t hear you, miss.”

“I could… suck your cock.” Your eyes set downward as heat reaches your cheeks.

He doesn’t answer, he makes you wait for his reaction.

“If you want,” you add.

“You’re telling me you’ll blow me, and in exchange I won’t call the police?” he asks, as he has done dozens of times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty two.”

“It’s the first time I come across not only a thief, but also a slut, that wants to suck my dick to get away with shoplifting,” he lies to you.

“And this is the first time I’ve come across a security guard so corrupt that he’s willing to accept it.”

“Watch that mouth.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will fuck it.”

The way you squeeze your thighs together doesn't go unnoticed.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanna suck my cock to leave this office free.”

“I… wanna suck your cock, so you won’t call the police.”

“Good girl,” he praises in a tone you haven’t heard from him before. Directive. Dark.

“Now come here. Get on your knees and beg for it.”

You turn to the door, worried that someone might come in.

“Don’t worry. Nobody will interrupt us.”

You walk over to him, as he’s leaning against his desk, and kneel down.

“I said, beg for it.”

“Pl…please?”

“Oh you can do better than that. Your father ever taught you good manners?”

No one has ever spoken to you like that, and the tingling between your legs makes you stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Please, can I suck your cock, sir?”

“Much better. Maybe you’re a quick learner.”

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“You like that, huh?”

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the ground. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and makes you look up at him.

“No need to be shy or deny it. You’ve squeezed your thighs together twice in the last 2 minutes. Take out my cock, miss,” he orders.

You comply and unzip his pants, before sliding them down his thighs. He’s hard. You pull it out of his boxers and stare at it. Holding your breath again.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’ll have to. Come on.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and lick up the precum that oozes out. Giving it a few licks.

“Don’t tease. I saw you, with your friends. Thinking you're better than everyone else. I hope you can do better than that with your mouth, now.”

His degradation turns you on. You take him in your mouth, struggling to wrap your lips around his tip. You feel your panties soaking wet. You apply yourself, sucking the head, licking his shaft and his balls, which are resting heavily against his thighs.

“Keep looking at me when I’m letting you suck my cock.”

God, you think. You're so turned on that you’d let him fuck you right now. You lick his shaft, tongue flat, eyes fixed on him. Tears well up in your eyes when he forces his way down your throat.

“You wet?” he asks, his cock in the back of your throat, his hands holding your head against him. You try keeping yourself back from gagging, and nod.

“Get up,” he says, releasing you. “Take off your clothes. Show me.”

You undress mechanically, then he grabs your hips and presses you against his desk, forcing you to spread your thighs, as he slides his body between them. He presses his hand against your pussy and hisses.

“You're dripping, baby. You need it bad, huh?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

“I need it, fuck! That's what you wanna hear?”

He smirks then grabs his cock in his hand and thrusts into you in one go, and you can't help but scream.

“Quiet,” he says, jaw clenched, covering your mouth with his hand, and starts fucking you hard.

“Watch it. Watch how I'm splitting you in two,” he says, finally removing his hand.

“Fuck, fuck,” you mumble as you look down and watch his cock plunge into you, soaked by your wetness.

“Pussy’s squeezing me so hard, fuck. Turn around,” he says, as he grabs your arm and bends you over the desk. He thrusts in again and grips your hips, slamming into you.

“Worth it?”

“Wh… what?” You can barely breathe, let alone speak.

“Whoring yourself for a Walkman?”

“Shit… I didn’t fuckin’ steal it.”

“I know,” he growls.

“What?!” you exclaim, trying to stand up, but he grabs your shoulder and presses you roughly against the desk, the weight of his body on your back, as he keeps pounding into you fast and hard.

“I wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. Make you beg for my cock. I know a slut when I see one,” he says in the hollow of your ear. He slides his hand down to your pussy and brushes your clit with his finger. Slows down the pace. Fucks you gently, trying to get what he wants.

“Now you’re gonna come on this cock. You’re gonna give it to me, like a good whore, baby. ‘cause that’s what you’re good at.”

“You’re… a fucking freak,” you pant. But you don’t fight, don’t resist. A part of you thinks it’s hot, the way he got you. And you want to come, need to come, he’s fucking you too well. You let your orgasm rush over your body, your pussy clenching on his shaft. He freezes deep inside you and comes, covering your walls in white ropes.

He stays pressed against your back, his hands tight around your wrists.

“I knew I picked a good one, today,” he smiles against your ear.

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fleurhcss · 1 year ago

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✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝? – Han x FEM Reader!

cw : guitarist and singer, rockstar, semi public sex, concert, bfwb to lovers, little bit crazy, perm han, love your thighs

sw : choke kink, biting, oral (both), piv, unprotected sex, humping, blowjob, hair pulling, pet names, MDNI.

wc : 6.600 words

synopsis : You and Jisung have been friends since primary school. A unique friendship. He had a special personality, quirky, a bit manic in some ways. Whereas you were always shy and kept to yourself. You always supported him, even in his budding career as a rock star. You loved the way he held the stage. Unfortunately, this job deprived him of many of life's pleasures, such as sex. One day he made a suggestion which, despite your initial embarrassment, you did not refuse. You were also sexually frustrated because you had never found a man who met your standards. And Jisung was the perfect man. So you began to be best friends with benefits. One day he will start his performance with a new look that will drive you crazy and this will result in a long and hot sex session.

a/n : this is the third fic that I wrote here and I'm so happy to see that a lot of you really liked this plot so after some waitings here for you the full story !!! 🎀 Hope u enjoy this, let's see in the next one !!! 🤍🤍🥰

MASTERLIST

[ HARD SMUT ]

You and Jisung have always been best friends. You met him in primary school when you were just two kids. You still remember the afternoons you spent together eating snacks and helping him with his homework. He was truly a child full of surprises and talents, he could do anything and you followed him everywhere because you loved him. Jisung was a part of you, you shared everything with him. You were two completely different personalities: you were kind, calm, shy and quiet, and he was quirky, eccentric, talkative, who loved to be the centre of attention and show off his talents, but you knew that deep down he was a kind-hearted person, despite some of his peculiar behaviour that you could sometimes not understand. Jisung really was a personality in his own right. He was unique, and that was what made this friendship unique. No one was like Han Jisung. Like your best friend. And no one would ever be. Never. You were a part of each other and had made a promise to each other. Over time, even your different passions and paths had failed to separate you. You had a job that reflected your personality, a simple bartender and photographer, while he, with a brilliant personality, had become a big shot in music. A wonderful rock star. A lifestyle that perfectly reflected his: free, flamboyant, unique. Han Jisung was simply the rock itself.

Unfortunately, however, our duties often and willingly take us away from what is pleasurable. And indeed it did. Because of the time you spent between the café and the photo studio, you could rarely go out at night to find a man to take to bed. And the frustration was high; you felt the physical need to get laid like never before. To get rid of all the stress weighing on your shoulders. Jisung's situation was no different. With his life as a musician, between studio work and concerts scattered around the country or even on tour, he never had time to relax and indulge in his manly pleasures. He had always been a bit of a playboy in his high school days, you well remember him taking advantage of every party to get into bed with some girl. It was amazing how the next day he would tell you everything in detail and you would tease him about his performance in bed. He was so sweet and convincing when he told you about his talents in bed.

However, when he started to devote himself to music, everything changed. No more tales of strange performances in bed. On the contrary, he would tell you how frustrating it was not to be able to take anyone to bed because of lack of time and fame. If he was caught, he would surely end up in the middle of a scandal, and he was determined to avoid that. He hated having to apologise for indulging his pleasures. Also because you were aware of your best friend's strange habits in bed.

Yes, because Han Jisung loved to play strange bed games with anyone who came along. You were in eighth grade when he first told you about one of his crazy nights at a party. He had left bite marks all over the girl's body and had fucked her in a position that you weren't sure you fully understood when he described it to you. Even less did you think it was normal to prepare the girl with the neck of a wine bottle. But that was Jisung, as special in bed as he was in real life.

Sometimes you were afraid of what she might do when you were not around. He was a strange personality and you loved that about him.

Every once in a while, before he went off to the studio for rehearsals or the release of a new album, he would drop by to tell you about the latest happenings over a good cup of coffee. He remembered how you take it from your high school days and loved to bring you breakfast every morning and tell you about the previous day. It gave you the feeling that nothing had changed over the years. You and Jisung were still the same kids in primary school, fighting over which stickers to put under the desk to make it your own.

You loved this side of your friendship, you felt more and more connected to him in every way, it was as if the longer you went on, the more nothing changed. It warmed your heart and you were grateful. You followed him to every concert in the country, leaving the café under the leadership of your clique of friends. Occasionally you took the opportunity to travel and see his concerts around the world, and when you couldn't join him, he would call you and you would stay up all night. He would always send you videos of where he was going, full performances just for you. You were his privileged fan and he loved it all.

Whenever he came back from tour, you would find him at your door with two beers and two pizzas, ready to spend the next two days with you, telling you about his colourful life away from home while on tour. And you smiled broadly when he told you of his madness and when he held you close to him after months of not feeling the contact of your body and the scent of your skin, which he loved madly. You remember how many times he told you how much he loved your perfume, whether it was some new scent you had bought or the simple smell of your skin after a hot winter shower.

Nothing could compare to the feeling of having a Han Jisung as your friend, as your best friend. It was like having a holiday home all to yourself, only in this case the holiday was for life and nothing could change that fate. Not even his crazy ideas about you, or those strange illuminations he had at night, telling you to follow him through the streets at four in the morning, or to play in the playground.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was so strange to think about how you had ended up in that situation with Jisung. Him naked at your side, caressing your skin with his lips.

One day, you remember exactly when and how it happened, you were eating a good kebab, he was complaining about how frustrating his life was since he could no longer take anyone to bed with him. You were about to choke on your beer when the idea came out of his mouth. "Yes, we could help each other! You give me pleasure and I give you pleasure. It's a fair deal, see? So I can show you my talents, you who have heard so much about them for so long," he said excitedly, clapping his hands. Do you remember how you looked at him in shock, your cheeks almost burning? You almost didn't choke on your salad. You were embarrassed, you didn't think your best friend could think such things, with you too. With you. Did Jisung really want to fuck you? You were a bit afraid that it would ruin your friendship. But on the other hand I felt he was right, you were the only one he could go with and he was the only one you had time to spend with. It was an offer with merit, and in the end quite tempting. You were shy, but at the same time you didn't want to turn down the offer, after all Jisung was your best friend, what could go wrong that it wouldn't work out? after all, no man reflected your standards and Han Jisung was really the perfect man. Muscular body, slim waist and long legs. Strong arms, a beautiful face with a predatory look. Jisung was simply ethereal.

"Jisung, are you sure about what you are asking me?" you asked, still a little incredulous. "Of course, Princess. I trust no one but you, and among other things, your body is wonderful, you have gorgeous thighs, I would love to stick my face in them." He whispered in your ear, making you blush. You hadn't expected him to be like that. This boy was a constant surprise. He bit your neck, then took a sip of beer and blinked at you. He was going to drive you crazy, you were more than sure. No one could make you like him, it was amazing the power he had over you.

You sighed and looked at him, "All right, I'm in, but don't get any strange ideas Han". You continued to eat as a huge grin appeared on his face.

And when you saw him grinning, you knew it was over for you.

That's how you ended up where you were now, in Han Jisung's arms, naked in his bed. Secretly, perhaps not so secretly, you loved the way he drew strange patterns on your skin, the way he kissed you and branded your breasts. You were always at his mercy. You caressed his warm stomach skin as he almost massaged your shoulder with his eyes closed. You felt him move underneath you to reach for the water and take a sip before he kissed your hair and began to slide his hand down to your bottom, cupping it in his hands and letting out a giggle. He was amazing, that boy, he would never change.

He ran a hand up your back, cupping your neck from behind and letting the back of your neck tilt back, biting your lower lip and pulling it towards him as he massaged your buttocks. You loved the little touches he would give you after a long session of sex. Also because he had worn you out enough that night. You knew how crazy he was in bed, he always proved it to you, and this time he had only confirmed the theory. He had chosen to eat you, laying you on your stomach on the mattress and taking your legs, wrapping them around his neck as he teased your hole with two fingers. You loved it when he pulled at your pussy lips with his teeth, it drove you crazy the way he squeezed as if he wanted to pull them away from you. "What are you thinking about?" He distracted you from your thoughts, you giggled as you thought about him and what you had done in bed just before. "About you and your extraordinary sexual performance," you laughed and then planted a soft kiss on his lips. He patted your bottom as he burst out laughing and covered his face, then rubbed it and rested on his elbows. His chest was full of your marks, as were your breasts. He had enjoyed branding you that night.

"I have a concert tomorrow, are you coming? I will be wearing a new look and there will be a new song on the set list, I hope you like it, Princess." He smiled and then slipped under the covers and catapulted himself over your body, laughing and kissing your stomach. "Of course I'll come, Jisung. I could never miss a concert of yours. I'm curious too. What are you going to do? Will you come back with blue hair like in high school?" you scoffed. He knew how much you had loved that high school period; blue hair had been your favourite look.

He smiled and jumped out from under the covers, towering over your body, your naked intimacies colliding and making you moan. It was literally driving you crazy. "No, something sexier, I have a performance in store that will blow your mind and you will be in the VIP station with backstage access. I need my princess to recharge, in fact I'm feeling very tired right now, I need a healthy recharge." He grinned. And that sneer could only mean one thing with Han Jisung. Another round. This guy really never got tired when you went to bed. "You really are a lost cause, Han," you said, stroking his hair as he rested his chin on your belly. "And you adore me so much." He laughed, then reached between your legs and began to bite your thighs. He loved your thighs and told you so every time you fucked.

"You have no idea how much I love the taste of your skin under my lips." He whispered, still licking away traces of his cum that were present along your thighs. Another thing you loved about fucking was the fact that you were both clean, no protection and on the pill. So he would release inside you and you loved the feeling of the heat spreading inside you.

He kissed your intimacy and began to slowly run his tongue over it as he cupped your thighs. He took a bite and began to penetrate you with his tongue. He may have given you heaven on a silver platter. He squeezed your buttocks and continued to move his tongue inside you, nimbly moving his hot muscle which, on contact with your already hot walls, seemed to plunge into the hidden, fiery caves of the pleasure circle. He broke away to get some air and took the opportunity to bite one thigh and continue to leave marks all over it, again not stopping there but continuing up the thigh as well. "You cannot understand the desire I have for you. You are delicious. My favourite dessert." He slid two fingers together with his tongue to spread you as wide as possible, even though you were not tight because of the act he had already performed earlier; it wasn't your first time together but he wanted you to be not only comfortable but as pleasurable as possible. He didn't mind giving you pleasure vicariously, especially as he knew how much you enjoyed his actions. He began to move his fingers inside your opening, almost simulating the same movements as his tongue, only the latter went much deeper. From two fingers he went to three and he was sure that he had uncovered your sensitive spot because you moaned. And that could only make Jisung competitive. He started to hit that spot while he used his tongue to lubricate it, after all, no one forbid you to come several times in one night.

The more he looked at your naked body, the more Jisung blinked with eyes filled with lust. Caught in a burning passion that could only be stopped by satisfying it, the boy held your thighs tightly and pushed himself into you for the umpteenth time, almost exhausting you. So he was surprised when he saw you rise, but without a word he let you go to see how far you would go. And so he eased you down, laying on the back of your bed that had accommodated you until then, before moaning hoarsely as he fully felt your tight walls welcoming his member from head to toe, "Holy shit baby...you are so tight, how is it possible that I just fucked you."

He placed his veiny hands on your tight waist to help you move as uncontrollable moans and gasps escaped from both your lips. You were about to reach the climax, but it was too soon for him to stop this inexplicable pleasure; he would have gone on indefinitely just to hold you and fuck you. He smiled mischievously as he watched you gain confidence and begin to jump on his member faster and faster. You grabbed his neck, pulling his hair back, and he made you tighten your grip, looking at you with piercing eyes. "Don't be afraid to hurt me Mummy - do whatever you want to me. You have no idea how much you drive me crazy." He whispered convincingly as he moved closer to your ear before relaxing under your captivating touch. You loved having that effect on him. To see when you were fucking tired after long sessions without having to see him squeeze you into strange positions. Jisung was enchanting in everything he did, which drove you crazy.... You felt completely at his mercy.

You groaned when you felt him bite your shoulder and turned around to see the teeth marks on your shoulder.

He giggled in amusement and took your chin in one hand and kissed you hard while holding your side with the other, helping you to move faster and faster.

You grinned to yourself, especially when you saw how helpless Jisung was against your touch. "Please make me cum, you're so good, fuck Princess" he moaned into your ear.

Your tongues intertwined as you sought each other out. You sucked on the older man's as you rose and fell on his intimacy. You loved the feel of his hands gripping between your waist and buttocks; it was a sensation that went to your head. "Do you want to come? Who am I not to please you, baby?" You smiled amiably, but with a hint of mockery, not because you wanted to tease him, but because you wanted to provoke him further. You wrapped your hands around the young man's neck and pressed your now joined bodies closer together. You continued to thrust until you tightened around the young man's length and poured yourself onto him. But it was not over there, he had not yet come and you had regained your strength to finish there. You had to give him his endurance for the performance. You continued to move quickly on his member until you were close to his ear. "Why don't you fuck me, hard, use me, cum inside me". You were provoking him. And who was Han Jisung to deny you that? You pulled away and licked the line that connected the beginning of his jaw to his chin. You loved provoking him, it was his favourite part. Especially to see his reaction.

He took you by the neck and pulled you closer to his face, barely laughing at your words. "Oh, but baby doll, we're not done yet." As he spoke, he had brought his free hand to your intimacy to collect some of your moisture, which he immediately brought to his mouth, not taking his eyes off you for a moment, wanting to enjoy your expression as you realised he was tasting you. And that drove you crazy. You loved the look Jisung always reserved for you. He licked his fingers and then looked at you with a mocking grin, determined to take what was coming to him. His member ached from how hard it was and he didn't want to waste any more time, "Do you want me to use you, baby doll, mh? Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered lasciviously in your ear before grabbing your waist again with both hands, squeezing you and holding you still as he had you lie back against the mattress and began to thrust hard and fast on your sensitive spot again. The uneven rhythm allowed Jisung to enjoy your screams as he picked up the pace after a short pause. It was like music to his ears, so much so that he soon found himself moaning along with you. "Fuck baby you are so tight. How I love this feeling." He whispered into your ear. You were crazy about this Jisung. You worshipped him. "Mh...fuck Jisung faster please, I could come again at any moment..."

The last thrusts were harder than the others, he poured himself completely into you, moaning your name in the climax, followed by you, now exhausted.

"You have no idea what I have in store for you tomorrow baby, it will be the most memorable fuck of your entire life. Even the walls will fucking know your name." He laughed, then bit your thigh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It had been a tough day at work, you hadn't heard from your best friend and you were sure he was getting ready for the concert that would be this night. In fact, you had already planned your outfit for the evening: a black sheath dress over the thigh with a braid on the chest, a leather jacket and your beloved black knee-high boots. You had also thought of a make-up that would drive Jisung crazy and bring out the colours of your skin.

As soon as you got home, it didn't take you more than two minutes to catapult yourself into the shower and wash up. You were ready in no time, and when you looked in the mirror for the first time in months, you felt really pretty. Beautiful, in fact.

You were really curious about what Jisung had in store for you that night. He had been teasing you until he left your house the day before. He had said that he was going to change his look and you were sure that he was going to do something to his hair as it was the first thing that usually he would change. But you were also very curious about the song he was going to perform in preview this night, as it had not yet been released on any platform. You were sure he would come up with something sexy, as he usually did when he came up with these sudden things. You giggled to yourself. As you grabbed your last things and left the house, you had a smile on your face, happy and curious to see this new side of Jisung. You didn't even need a note, because by now your best friend's security and staff knew you well, not least because you had been caught making out in his dressing room a couple of times and Jisung had been forced to reveal everything to his manager, who had teased him about being desperate. You remember laughing at the look on Jisung's face at that moment.

When you arrived at the entrance to the park where the concert was to take place that night, you were greeted by the staff who escorted you to your reserved seat in the VIP box. Whenever Jisung gave a concert, you felt important just because you were accompanied by his bodyguards. You usually visited him before each concert, but this time you didn't want to spoil the surprise. You wanted to discover his much-vaunted new look at the same time as the performance. You bit your lower lip when the announcer started talking about Jisung and the concert as an introduction, and tugged at your lip fur when the first VCR started. Jisung was truly breathtaking; you had never seen a boy with such refined beauty. He had such delicate and sweet features, but at the same time he was so masculine. Every time you looked at him, you were amazed that his petite body was so well defined and muscular. He was just spectacular. Maybe he was the only guy you would want to fuck no matter who your best friend was. Jisung was the kind of guy you thought was perfect just the way he was. You wondered what he would be like as a boyfriend. But perhaps your mind began to fantasize too much about a hypothetical and almost unlikely relationship with him.

When Jisung appeared a few minutes later and greeted everyone with a big smile, the staff almost had to bring you a glass of water to get you back. It was his usual winking look, that look that drove you crazy, especially when he stuck out his tongue and raised his eyebrows. But it was not that that had particularly impressed you. It was the long-awaited "new look" he had to show off. Her hair was permed, it wasn't quite curly, but he'd waved it to set off his face. It was simply stunning. He wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black trousers that dangerously bandaged his toned legs, and his beloved ankle black boots. Not to mention the inexhaustible amount of jewellery he always wore. You could even see his gleaming nose and lip piercings from under the stage.

His eyes caught yours and he winked, and for the first time you actually blushed under his amused gaze. He licked his lips and craned his neck, then approached the microphone. "I want to dedicate this song to someone special. It's new, you've never heard it before, and I want to give you a sneak preview. It's called 'Don't Say'," he finished, picking up his electric guitar and starting to sing. Your lips were open, Jisung made you tremble when he sang, he was really born to be on stage. He had the air of a rock star. His movements, his voice. He was magnificent. You started to feel hot when he threw his knees over the edge of the stage to start a guitar solo. How crazy he made you when he played, he really made your head spin. With that tongue stuck between his teeth, that defiant look. And then that hair, that curly hair falling down over his face, it really drove you crazy. You felt that night that you could have let that boy do anything to you.

You imagined what it would be like to pull his hair like that, to have those curls trapped between your fingers, your fingers trapped in those curls. You bit your lower lip so hard that you felt blood coming out from too much force. You imagined Jisung on top of you, fucking you so hard that you went crazy, arching your back and rolling your eyes. He was the only one who could make you feel like that. You knew that. You had had enough experiences in your life and Jisung, your best friend, had been the best. Now you understood and mostly believed what he told you about his performance in bed, because you had experienced it yourself on your skin, on your body. Jisung could do it, and that drove you crazy. You would have wanted him all to yourself, all the time. Not just for simple fucks, although they weren't that at all. He would take care of you afterwards, spend time with you. You weren't just a one-night stand. Or just a one-night stand friend. Jisung was in love with you, and if you had only understood the way he looked at you, you would have realised it much sooner. He adored you so much. But just seeing him on stage with that erotic look on his face as he smoothly ran his fingers over the guitar strings made you realise how attractive he was even when he was doing normal things. You were crazy about him, and you realised it just by watching him play.

When he unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt during his speech, leaving only two, you squeezed your thighs because you were soaking wet. You were sure that Jisung would tease you even more if he saw you in that state. That was typical of him. He loved to see you under him, moaning and trembling at his touch. Well, how could you not when he reserved that feline look for you. Normally Jisung had such big eyes that he looked like Bambi, you always called him "Squirrel Boy" because of his cheeks or "Bambi Boy" because of his eyes. But when you were under him and he was fucking you, his look was that of a hungry panther who would not be easily sated by you. You were very sure of that. Also, because when you were in bed, the rounds were always three or two, you remember how he once lasted until dawn. It was one of your best fucks.

You returned the look he had reserved for you for a few moments, and you quickly realised that he wanted to take you backstage with him after the concert. You were a little scared after what happened last time, when you were caught. You thought he was a bit of an exhibitionist. Also because it was to be expected, given his personality.

His manager came to see you in person, rolling her eyes; she knew exactly what was coming, and maybe you did too. Jisung was a lost cause. You bit your lower lip again and made yourself comfortable on the small sofa in his dressing room while the manager asked for the door. "Please be discreet, don't make too much noise." She giggled, sending a trail of blush down your cheeks. You looked around and waited for your best friend to arrive, probably stuck at the meet and greet taking pictures with fans. All the more reason for you to be quiet. Or at least you were the one who had to keep a certain voice tone. Every time you fucked the morning after, you had to drink one of those hot herbal teas with honey. And that had always made Jisung sneer and boosted his ego.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

About half an hour after you arrived in his dressing room, the elder's slender, toned figure peeked through the door, his neck craned to one side with his customary wink. He watched you as he finally unbuttoned his shirt and pulled back his semi-curly hair.

He approached you slowly, as if to support the pace of a panther, as if to seduce you. It was an erotic vision. His unbuttoned shirt revealed his toned tan chest, the two nipple piercings reflected in the room as he licked his lips, playing with the piercing in them. You tightened your legs and lost your breath and he noticed it well. "So I see you enjoyed the show quite a bit, very much so my new look, did you?" He laughed as he spread your legs with one knee and rubbed it against your wet cunt. You were unable to respond, as if the cat had really eaten your tongue. In this case, the cat was him. "I can see that you enjoyed it very much. Look at you, princess, all wet just for me." He whispered on your lips and then began a ravenous kiss. He wanted to devour you and you gladly let him.

"You don't know how much, Jisung," you rested your head on the back of the sofa you were sitting on. "Oh, well, I really do notice it, Princess. But you have to be quiet until we reach my apartment, let me tease you a little now," he grinned and then lowered himself between your legs and began to take long bites of your thighs. He loved your thighs, he had told you so many times since you had become what you were at this moment: best friends with benefits. It seemed almost strange to say, but it was true. Although you thought of Jisung as something more than just friends. Who knows what he thought.

Your hands began to ruffle his hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck, noting how remarkably well his hair actually grew and how extremely beautiful it made him look. As he left marks and brands on your inner thigh, his curls wrapped around your fingers, you rolled them around your index finger and bit your lower lip. Jisung droves you crazy. When he stood up, you looked down at him, feeling his gaze go straight into your veins and especially between your legs, as the fabric of your panties was now completely wet. But he took advantage of this detail. Yes, he lowered his trousers and you thought he was going to fuck your mouth, but in fact he pulled out his already erect cock and spread your legs even wider and began to rub the length between your covered and wet folds. Now it was hard to hold back your moans. And to help you, he covered your mouth with his hand. His movements were fluid as he trapped his lip between your walls, simulating a fuck. "You're so wet princess, all for me. So warm. God, if only I could fuck you right now." He moaned as he pushed the tip between your pussy covered by the wet fabric of your panties. "MphfJis...I'm...about...to...come!" You said disjointedly because of his hand.

He took your chin with the hand that was covering your mouth and opened your mouth with two fingers, playing with your tongue as he fucked your walls again. "Me too baby, open your mouth." He said and began to fuck your mouth as his thumb made room under your panties and began to move quickly over your clit. This made you roll your eyes back and moan in a way that made his cock jerk. He was driving you crazy. This was going to be the best fuck of your life and you were sure of it.

After several thrusts he poured into the warm walls of your throat and you into your panties and onto his thumb. You almost bit his cock. "You did great baby." He said, leaving your lips to swallow and clean up the cum that dripped down your chin. You did, licking it off as he licked his thumb and lowered himself between your thighs to lick off your humour and rip off your panties. "We won't be needing these anymore." He laughed and threw them into the trash. You almost screamed, you were still very sensitive down there. "You're crazy Han Jisung, you know they can hear us," you said, biting your lip. "Let them hear baby, you are mine and only I can fuck you like this." He whispered in your ear and then pulled you towards him. "Come on, let's go. We have a long night ahead of us Princess." He said, slapping your thighs and pulling on his jacket without putting his shirt back on.

He dragged you with him and left the room, shouting to his manager that he was going home. You were open-mouthed; you had never seen him so eager to fuck you. When you reached the car, all he did was squeeze your thigh as he stepped on the accelerator. Your legs were close together and the fact that you were not wearing panties allowed your vaginal lips to rub between them and wet the seat of Jisung's car. Perhaps a little too much, as the older man noticed and put his hand between your labia and began to rub them. "Jisung, please, I am too sensitive..." you begged him, but that did not stop him, for it only brought another grin to his face.

"Princess, that is not even the beginning."

Indeed he was right, for as soon as you arrived at the elder's house you were immediately thrown into bed and stripped of all your clothes. And now you found yourself naked beneath the still covered body of your best friend. And as he rubbed his covered knee over your naked intimacy, he began to undress until he too was naked in front of your eyes. He lowered himself onto your breasts and began to bite and suck on them, especially your sensitive nipples. Your legs were tight around his waist so that his erect intimacy rubbed against your already sensitive and wet cunt. In fact, as he bit your skin from your neck to your collarbone and your tits, you felt the tip of his cock pushing and rubbing between your walls. "I can feel you so fucking wet for me." He moaned into your ear as you gasped out unconnected words, including his name. "Jisung please fuck me, I can't stand it anymore."

"As you wish my princess." He sneered and then grabbed you by the throat, squeezing you almost to the point of suffocation, and thrust into you, immediately beginning to move with a force you did not believe he had. You moaned like never before and it drove you mad. The way he slapped and rubbed his cock between your walls. His hands slid gently over your hips, massaging and squeezing. It was wonderful, the feeling of your walls around him, around his member, the warmth that only your body could have given him. You squeezed again until his intimacy touched perhaps your inner and weakest part. His lips roamed over your bare skin, lingering here and there to leave marks, bites, kisses. Now and then he focused on your nipples, tormenting them, biting carefully, pulling with his teeth and then sucking. Again. His hands also came to cupping your buttocks, spreading them, massaging them, so to your hips and thighs. Then he began to give you more precise, powerful, almost violent thrusts . "You are fucking magnificent." He whispered in your ear, then bit your earlobe and went back to kissing that bare skin, long since unbleached. He was hungry, you were his favourite dish, his delicacy. If he could, he would have fed on your perfect body all the time.

At that moment, all you could think about was Jisung and how he made you feel by fucking you. For a moment you could not understand where you were. Your mind was clouded with bliss, heat enveloped your whole body like a thick cloud. You couldn't help but melt into the arms of the boy whose name you couldn't stop saying, thrust after thrust.

You dug your nails into the flesh of his arms that blocked your breath, seeking support as you felt your body slowly melt with pleasure, almost too overwhelming to bear. You clung to his lips; it was hard to pull away. You grinned mischievously and rested your hand on the boy's, enticing him to tighten his grip on your neck. You tried to get closer and closer to his body, this pathetic closeness was not enough for you, you wanted more, you felt the need to become one with him. You rested your forehead on his and began to move your pelvis against his.

He pulled away from your body, tightening his grip around your neck as you continued to moan his name. You were sure the older man's neighbours had heard all the times you had screamed his name. But you wanted more and more, you were greedy for his cock, you couldn't get enough of it and you just wanted to feel his hot cum dripping down your thighs. You were addicted to his cock. It was pleasurable to feel the sensation of his nails gripping your flesh, branding it and making it his. Your walls also tightened around his member from the stimulation and God, God only knows how much pleasure Jisung felt at that moment. You began to thrust more and more with your pelvis, helping him with the thrusts. The older man took both of your legs and decided to bring them to your chest so that he could thrust more accurately. To say that you had both become a moaning mess seemed a fairly obvious thing to say, as that had been the case. He lay down by your side, not getting out of you, now you were lying on your side, your legs against his chest as he fucked you, holding you tight from the waist as he knocked the air out of you. "Fuck you are so warm and tight even though I fucked you yesterday. You always welcome me so well, mhh, baby like this, hold me like this," he whispered in a hoarse, almost lazy moan in contrast to the thrusts he was giving you. By now your brain had been disconnected.

"I fucking want you all to myself forever. You are only mine, no one can ever fuck you like I can." He pushed even deeper. "I'm yours Jisung, you're the only man for me." you moaned as you grabbed his hair with one hand, the hair that had driven you crazy all night long, and pulled it, and with the other grabbed your clit, stimulating it. "And you, my only woman," he growled, then moved your hand away and began to move his fingers quickly to facilitate your orgasm.

"Princess... Mhh I'm about to fucking cum," he moaned into your ear and then gave precise strokes inside you. "Mhh ... Jis ... m...e to...oh ..." you cried out, only to come in warm spurts onto his hand and he cums into you. But he did not come out of you, rather he overpowered you and resumed his thrusts, overstimulating you as he rode out his orgasm. "Fuck your walls always so warm and welcoming to me, let's rock all night baby." He growled.

And so you fucked until dawn, rocking all night long.

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