#You all know this already but I like to give thoughts

[simpjaes]

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 

Stunning. 

This motherfucker is stunning. 

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 

You’re uncomfortable. 

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive. 

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 

  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 

Oh. 

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 

Surprisingly, you believe him. 

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

[ceilidho]

fig. 1. hand in dog mouth | Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader

MASTERLIST · AO3

The first time he smells her from inside the woman's locker room, it brings him to a halt. The human voice in his head grows dimmer and dimmer until it ceases to make a sound.

or: the forced mating omegaverse au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Omegaverse, Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping, Heavy Noncon/Dubcon Elements

“Fuckin’ gym isnae giei’ me a free month even though ah have tae drive tae practically the other side o’ the country tae get a decent pump in.”

“Mate, I can’t understand you when you get all worked up,” Gaz sighs on the other end of the phone, probably pinching the bridge of his nose. A lot of their conversations end up that way, one of them quickly losing patience with the other until the call abruptly ends.

Johnny drops his gym bag in the back and slams the car door shut, rounding to the other side to get in on the driver’s side. 

“Ah said, they aren’y refunding me fer the month even though the other location is on the other side o’ town. That’s a half hour back ‘n forth,” he gripes. The call switches to bluetooth a couple seconds after starting the car, Gaz’s exasperated voice coming from the speaker instead of his cell. 

“Don’t you already get a discount?”

“That’s jus’ fer bein’ a vet. This is completely different. It’s gonna be closed fer a month fer renovations. Ah cannae do this fer a whole month.”

“Hey, I know where you live. Aren’t there other gyms around that you could go to instead?”

“Are ye out o’ yer fuckin’ mind, Gaz? Ah’m no’ payin’ ten quid fer a fuckin’ day pass when ah already pay out the nose fer a membership.” 

“No need to get mad at me, mate, I’m just giving you suggestions.” 

“Well, keep them tae yerself if they’re all that bad.”

“Okay, this has been a great chat. I hope you blow a tire on the way there and try calling me for help so I can ignore it.”

The call ends with a loud beep and Johnny barks out a laugh as he reverses out of his spot, looping out of the lot and onto the main road.

He takes the highway because most of the slush and snow has long been cleaned off, though his wipers pump back and forth furiously to keep the snow flurries from sticking to the windshield. That already sets the tone for his evening. He nearly gets in an accident twice on the way there, everyone losing their ability to drive the second the weather is even slightly bad. 

He should just be lucky his gym even has another branch. They could’ve left him high and dry for the month, forced him to go to one the other gyms in his neighborhood that don’t offer the same range of weights and veteran’s discount. 

Worse, he could’ve been left with no choice but to use Gaz’s guest pass to his exorbitantly overpriced luxury gym downtown. Even the thought makes Johnny shudder. It could always be worse.

It’s so much more than just the drive that he hates about the other location. Like the first time he came here months ago when an appointment on the other side of town made him think it would be more convenient to pop in rather than heading back home for his workout, the parking lot is packed when he arrives, and he has to circle the lot twice before a spot frees up. 

The gym is similarly packed when Johnny walks in, and his mood darkens as he scans the weight section for a free bench. None in sight. Just meathead after meathead lining the far wall, huffing and puffing with each rep, dumbbells scattered around. 

Headphones slipped on and music loud enough to make his ears ring, he heads to the treadmills instead. Better to just start his workout like usual and hope for the best. 

The air stinks of sweat and hormones, alpha pheromones wafting through the gym and leaving not a corner untouched. It’s one of the reasons he prefers the location closer to his place—convenience aside, his location is mainly frequented by betas and omegas, the odd alpha not having much of an impact on the overall vibe. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty of alpha friends (Gaz being just one of them), it’s just that sometimes he likes being the biggest, meanest thing in the room. Keeps him in line. Keeps him from being the stupid shit he is ninety-nine percent of the time, as Gaz would say. He likes to be the only one posturing. 

So he doesn’t relish being forced to work out with a million carbon copies of himself. It’s nothing Johnny isn’t used to at least—a decade in the military and a lifetime of contact sport before that had been enough of an education in coexisting with other alphas—but it leaves him on edge, muscles bunching up until his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. 

Running loosens him up. Distracts him from the urge to sink his teeth into something tender and shake until it bleeds. 

A brisk walk to a light jog to a full on sprint. Tongue suctioned to the roof of his mouth, sharpened canines throbbing. The most natural state in the world—legs pumping under him faster and faster, the faint memory of bare feet on a cold forest floor turning over loose soil with every stride. The steady pound of his feet against the ground rumbling through him.

It’s a pale imitation of the real deal, but the taste of salt and rust on the back of his tongue keep him grounded. The beast in his chest rumbles its approval. 

When a bench finally frees up, Johnny has to dash across the gym when he sees another alpha nearby eyeing his spot. He reaches the bench a few seconds before the other man though, slinging his sweat-drenched towel across the seat to claim it as his. The alpha hovers for a tense second, face screwed up in anger and nostrils flared like he might put up a fight for it. 

Do it, Johnny almost growls, teeth itching. Try it and see what happens.

Lucky for both of them that the other alpha knows when to cut his losses. He shoulder checks another alpha as he stomps back to the leg press machine and nearly starts a whole other fight, but that’s none of Johnny’s business. 

He cringes when he finally looks down at the bench only to find someone’s back outlined in sweat. Entitled shitheads at this gym can’t even be bothered to clean up after themselves. 

The noxious miasma of alpha stench would make his eyes water if he weren’t so used to it. Pungent and sharp, like gargling brine. 

A month can’t go by quick enough.

He leaves feeling worse than when he came in. Shoulders tight with tension and irritation crackling through him. Doesn’t even bother throwing a halfhearted see you later to the front desk workers on his way out. The height of rudeness. Not even rude so much as just not him; Johnny likes to talk, he likes to be friendly with the staff. It speaks to the anger riding high in his blood that he can’t even pretend. 

To make it worse, his car is covered in snow when he makes it back, forcing him to spend an extra five minutes cleaning the shit off before he can finally leave. 

It’s untenable. He can mind his ego for a paycheck, but on his own time his patience curls up into a ball in his chest and goes to sleep. It’s not a question of if he’ll lose his temper but when. Inevitable. His pugnacity has always been his downfall; his Achilles’ heel. Always cutting himself down on a sharp tooth.

The rosary beads dangling from the rearview window sway with the car when he takes a tight turn. 

“Ah ken,” Johnny mumbles to himself, silver cross glinting under the stoplight. “Ah can do a month. Ah can keep it together.”

The next couple of times are just as bad. It’s always crowded during his preferred usual time and it always stinks, like the staff know they’re fighting a losing battle trying to keep the place clean so they don’t even try. 

The sorry fuckin’ state of this place, Johnny thinks in revulsion, sneering down at yet another machine damp with sweat from the guy before him. It takes him a minute to wrestle down the impulse to chase after the other alpha and drag him back by his hair before shoving him face down into the puddle of sweat on the seat he left for someone else to clean up. 

Only the threat of being permanently banned keeps his temper in check. That can only last for so long though.

It’s gotten to the point where he seriously considers taking Gaz up on his offer to come with him to the gym downtown. He’s a danger to himself and others here; a walking time bomb rapidly ticking down. Each day, something new tests the limits of his patience, like when he comes in one crowded afternoon only to find all of the lockers taken, the locker room stuffed to the brim with alphas and a few straggler betas. 

He sits in his car with the heat on for an hour until the gym clears out, steaming enough to fog up the windows. Nearly turns right back around when he enters the locker room to find it absolutely demolished—damp towels strewn about, shower water all over the floor, and stinking to high heavens of sweat, body odour, and piss. 

There’s still a dent in one of the lockers from the brief loss of his temper. He doesn’t cop to it, but he makes a point to only use the lockers on the other side of the room from then on.

He’s desperate enough to join Gaz at his fancy downtown gym all of one time, but the facilities there are so serene and sterile that his skin crawls the moment he walks in. Soothing spa music echoes through the three-story gym (no, wellness centre, the staff correct him at the check-in desk, and Gaz has to kick his bad knee to keep Johnny from howling) and verdant green plants grow from pots placed around the facility. 

Like working out in the jungle, he thinks sardonically. 

“How can ye even concentrate here?” he asks, aghast, staring at the group of limber, flexible bodies stretching and straining in a group yoga class behind a nearby glass wall. He licks his lips. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Ah’m no’ gonna get kicked out for breathing too loud, am ah?” 

“If anything, you’re gonna get kicked out for public indecency,” Gaz sneers, looking down pointedly at Johnny’s open hand inching towards his crotch. “Can you chill out, mate?”

“It’s no’ my fault! They’re arching their backs ‘n pushing their tits out. Ah shouldnae have to look at that when ah’m tryin’ tae work out.” 

“Would it kill you to not run your mouth off for five fucking minutes?”

Johnny mimes zipping his lips and then follows Gaz downstairs to the locker room, where the wall-length granite sink and infrared sauna make his eyes nearly bug out of his head. 

To no one’s surprise, he doesn’t go back. Gaz doesn’t ask him again either.

An appointment one day pushes his schedule back a couple hours and he shows up later than usual, his teeth clenched tight the whole drive over because he expects the worst. Double the occupants, double the meatheads. 

But when he pulls into a near empty lot, the knot of tension in his chest loosens. Only a handful of cars, and most of them are parked near the take-out place at the other end of the complex. 

It’s practically a wasteland when Johnny walks in. A few people here and there, but otherwise deserted. Only a single person posted near the free weights. 

Even the locker room is more palatable. Freshly cleaned and stocked with new towels. All of the showers have been scrubbed down and dried, the curtains tucked behind the holdbacks and waiting for someone to use them. It’s like walking into a brand new gym. 

“Yeah, this is kind of the sweet spot,” a staff member tells him when he rocks up to the desk to ask about it. “We get a lot of alphas that come here right after five, so when it empties out around nine, we have the cleaning staff come in to sanitize everything.”

“Well shit,” he laughs, pushing back from the desk and lacing his hands behind his head. “Guess yer gonna see me more often.”

True to his word, he starts showing up later and later, the streetlights plump and gold when he swerves into the parking lot and parks in the middle of two spots purely because he can. There’s a new bounce to his gait, a pep in his step. 

It fucks up Johnny’s schedule for a bit, but it’s well worth getting home well after midnight if it means that he gets the gym to himself. No one to complain when he groans and pants through each rep, sweat dripping from his face and body onto the floor, weights slammed against the mat with a loud thud every time he finishes a set. 

(In truth, he’s no better than the alphas that plague the gym during the evening hours, but he’s long made peace with being a hypocrite.)

For a moment, it seems like life will at least be bearable until the month is over and he can go back to training at his regular gym. All he has to do is wait it out. 

When it first catches his nose, he splinters down the middle.

It happens when Johnny’s on his way out for the night, muscles warm and only slightly sore, the kind of soreness that’ll dissipate by the time he flops into bed. It’s later than usual—closer to one than twelve, and he’ll feel it in the morning when he’s forced to get up at his usual hour—but there’s hardly anyone else in the gym and for that, it’s worth it. 

The strap of his gym bag digs into his shoulder as he tosses a hand up on his way, saying goodbye to the beta manning the front desk on his own. A shame that he’s stuck on his own all night. It would drive Johnny crazy to be stuck at work with no one to talk to—it’s one of the reasons that he followed Gaz into private security when they both got out of the service. 

He turns around, about to step out of the gym, when a peculiar smell tries to sneak past him. A slippery thing, silverfish quick and just as conspicuous. 

He catches it though. Hunting dog with a purebred snout, he sniffs it the second it wafts under his nose and goes ramrod straight, egress forgotten. 

The door to the women's locker room is closed, but he can smell the faint traces of the omega’s scent clinging to it. She must have touched it on her way out. Must have placed her palm against the door and shoved. The alpha beneath his skin that wears his face stills as well, everything vanishing into the singular nature of the scent emanating from the locker room door. 

In twenty-nine years, he’s never felt so—

(unmoored, untethered

sinking into it like a stone, not coming apart but unraveling altogether—)

He breathes in again and it’s fainter now, but he can still smell it. Candy pink frosting, so sweet that his teeth hurt and his dick throbs. Juicy like a ripe peach waiting for his teeth. It wafts from the women’s locker room, so subtle that it’s clear that whoever it belonged to is long gone. He must have just missed her, an hour separating them at most. 

It’s like nothing he’s ever smelt before. No omega in heat has ever made his head spin like this, every inch of him attuned to a single scent. Even slick on his tongue has never made him feel like this, rut thundering through his bones and snapping him into a new shape.

The hunger shifts from his throat to his stomach, settling in deep. And the beast under his skin that wears his face opens its maw, ropey strands of spittle stringing between its teeth. 

“Hey man, you good?” 

Johnny blinks, looking over his shoulder to find the guy at the front desk frowning at him. It snaps him out of whatever spell he’d been under. His alpha recedes beneath his skin again, hungering but quieter. 

“Uh…” he clears his throat, pulling the strap of his bag back up onto his shoulder from where it slipped down. Gives the guy a thumbs up. “Yeah. Sorry—lost my train o’ thought.”

The employee stares at him for a beat before mumbling, “Okay…” under his breath and looking back down at the computer.

Johnny stares at the door for another few seconds before finally leaving.

He sweats all the way home. Worries, wonder, and woes. Blinks and suddenly his exit is next, another car behind him honking when he changes lanes abruptly without signalling. Haud yer wheesht, he thinks and flips the other driver off for good measure. 

At home, he paces the length of his house thinking about that omega’s scent until it’s time for bed. Then he tosses and turns until his sleep grows profound and swallows him whole like Jonah. Into the belly of the beast. Nothing to do but let it spit him back out like a peachstone. 

Then morning comes and his jaw clicks when he yawns and his bad knee hurts. 

But worse than the snow pelting his windshield on the drive to work and worse than the cold stinging his face when he parks and stops for his morning coffee is the memory of that smell. 

It’s not as if he doesn’t have any experience with omegas. Despite growing up under the thumb of four alpha sisters, Johnny’s been popular with omegas his whole life. His history with them is an assortment of sordid trysts and quick flings, good enough to scratch an itch but not enough to make him want to bite and keep. 

Sticky, messy, syrupy ruts spent buried between an omega’s soft thighs, gorging himself on slick and pussy; nudging his cock against pillowy lips and then thrusting down their throat, hand palming the base of their skull to hold them in place. 

It’s always been like that though. One and done; a couple days at most to work through the worst of his rut and then out the door, a messy kiss for the road before whistling his way home. Johnny’s good for that. A romp in the hay, a roll in the sack. Generous with his fingers and mouth and cock. 

He’s never craved an omega like this though, never fevered like he fevers now. Itched like his skin was turned inside out in his sleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night panting, the covers under him drenched with sweat and his knot throbbing in his hand, already swollen and aching. Fisting his cock until he has no choice but to roll over and bury his teeth into his pillow, humping the mattress frantically until he comes, eyes watering with the force of his orgasm. 

No tonic for this ailment. It simmers in his blood, infatuation decocting into full blown obsession.

Brontide as leitmotif and it rumbles in his ears. 

Wandering through the city punch-drunk, always waiting for it to catch his nose somewhere else. In line at a salad bar, always a head taller than everyone else (which he’s still getting used to, which is still a strange new fact of civilian life); at a local venue with Gaz for a concert, scenting the air for any sign of them; seated at the back of the coffee shop across the street from the gym, eyes trained on the door.

Waiting. Always waiting. 

And, hungering like a starved dog. 

Saliva pooling in his mouth when he thinks of what it’ll be like when he finally has them under him, desperate and cloying and wet. 

Other omegas smell sickly to him now, off somehow. A facsimile of what he knows is out there waiting for him. He’s not down for a quick fuck anymore. A hand on his chest and doe eyes blinking up at him makes him shudder now, grimacing down at the omega trying to compete for his attention when out there there’s—

His omega.  

Just for him. Made to take his knot and clench around it and squeal when he pumps them full— 

Hishishishishishis. 

So he shrugs her hand off and sends her on her way. 

Johnny spends weeks trying to line up their schedules—his and that elusive omega’s whose scent still permeates the gym even though he never actually sees them in the flesh—to no avail. Even though he’s there waiting at the gym nearly every day, they must stagger their visits. Worse, they seem to come at irregular hours; some days, Johnny shows up and though he can smell the omega’s scent, it’s flat, stale. Like they’ve been gone for hours, ages. Only the oil from their hands still embedded in the dumbbells on the rack. 

He doesn’t even care if anyone’s watching when he brings one up to his nose and breathes in. 

Then abruptly, the scent disappears, and with it, his soundness of mind.

A week gasping for air, flopping belly up. Breathing in nothing, not even the old, stale scent of his omega because they’re gone suddenly without warning. The first couple of days are manageable only because he doesn’t notice it at first, used to his omega taking a couple days off at a time to rest and recover, but then two days stretch into three. And then into four. 

Johnny’s long thought of himself as wild and self-reliant, not accountable to anyone or anything apart from himself. It takes four days to obliterate that notion. 

On the fourth day, he wakes up and his agony crawls out of his mouth on spindly legs. 

It follows him to work and back, an ache between his shoulder blades and a gnawing, wretched hunger for something he can’t have because it’s beyond his grasp. Smoke now, lost in the ether. He drives across town before and after work, hoping that they’ll suddenly reappear and set his mind at ease, but the gym only smells of alpha funk and his own souring mood. 

Too long without it. He’s nothing but a shell of himself in its absence, without the scent of his omega to calm him down, and it makes Johnny realize that he wasn’t doing well on his own before but just barely surviving. Barely keeping his head above water. 

Ghost hauls him out of a bar by the scruff of his neck on Saturday night when he almost starts a fight, and only sinking his canines into the other alpha’s forearm calms him down. He slumps forward in the bigger man’s hold and whines when Ghost strokes a hand down his back and murmurs something vaguely soothing in his ear, his words muffled by the mask. He even lets Ghost drag him back home and curls up on his couch until a balled sock hits his head and he slinks into Ghost’s bedroom, dragging his feet the whole way.

His longing is excruciating. Pathetic. Like a dog with its own empty bowl in its mouth begging for scraps.  

Gaz still calls every day because they’ve been joined at the hip since they first met almost a decade ago and it’s not long before he picks up on the shaky note in Johnny’s voice, stilted conversations becoming wholly incomprehensible. Even Price calls him towards the end of the week to ask if he’s doing alright. No, sir. Yes, sir. Ah’m fine, sir. 

“Was it Gaz who snitched?” Johnny gripes, cutting a side-eyed glare at the alpha on the bench next to him curling sixty pound weights and groaning like he’s getting sucked off at the same time. Still no sign of his omega. 

“Well, it wasn’t Simon.”

That makes him snort. Last time he tells that traitor a goddamn thing about his life. 

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It makes the world seem fetid and bland, and he looks out at it through dull eyes, anger kindling inside. Makes his stomach cramp like there’s nothing in it. It takes the sheen out of an oil spill, leaving only the mess and rot behind. 

And then suddenly it’s back like nothing happened, stopping him in his tracks as he walks into the gym. They must have gone out of town for the week, on vacation or visiting family, something so trivial that he’d laugh if his innards weren’t char and ash. If his alpha weren’t half-feral, blotting out his thoughts for hours at a time, all instinct and anger and teeth taking over until he regains clarity and the sky is dark.

It nearly brings him to his knees when he walks into the gym and the smell of his omega blooms bright and nacreous. The gym staff eye him with growing uncertainty, but he’s hardly the most concerning customer at a big box gym (last week someone locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls with a knife), so they leave him to his own devices when he’s finally able to move again.

His omega isn’t there, of course. Johnny can tell from a quick glance around the gym and a sniff of the air. But they were, and that’s all that matters. 

Their reappearance sharpens his resolve. Runs it against a whetstone, his time of waiting coming to an end. He rolls his shoulders back and puffs his chest out in anticipation. It can’t come soon enough. 

Nothing stays silent for long when a wolf is watching from the shadows. Eventually it has to make a sound. 

It’s quiet in the gym at two a.m. (a far cry from his usual time, but the hunt demands sacrifice), only the sound of a single treadmill whirring and shoes hitting the belt disturbing the near silence. 

Johnny smells you the second he walks in. It punches him right in the chest when he inhales and the ripe, sticky scent of his omega flows into his lungs. Mouth watering on instinct. Rutilant eyed, he tilts his head wolf-like and stares down towards the other side of the gym where a pretty thing fiddles with the settings on the treadmill, settling into a light jog. 

He’s buried under an avalanche of want so powerful and so swift that it collapses him down to base instinct. Thoughts disconnected and hazy, blooming like a bruise in his head. 

Shouldnae be here, he wants to croon in your ear while he holds you down, almost swaying on his feet at the thought. Should be back in my bed at home takin’ my dick so deep in yer gorgeous cunt that ye can taste my cum on the back of yer tongue—

The employee manning the front desk doesn’t even look up when Johnny scans his pass and pushes through the turnstile, flipping to the next page of the magazine open in front of him.

It’s better that way. Johnny doesn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to stop him or get in his way. 

The gym is deserted at this time of night, only the single treadmill in use and someone that passes him on their way out, a gust of wind at Johnny’s back signalling their departure. Everything always works out in his favour. He suffers for it, but God rewards him for his patience. 

He takes a seat on the closest available training machine and doesn’t even pretend to use it. Johnny’s never been much of a performer anyway. Instead, he drops his gym bag down on the floor beside the chest press machine and leans forward, elbows resting against his knees. 

He’s lucky that you’re too concentrated on your workout to feel the heat of his stare. Your phone rests on its side in front of you, an episode of a show playing to distract you while you run. Earphones in to block out the noise. He knows Ghost would tell him to correct that. Can’t have his omega distracted while alphas lurk nearby waiting to dig their teeth into the supple lump of flesh sitting tantalizing just below the collar of your shirt—

A bead of sweat runs down his temple and his dick twitches in his sweats. 

There are cuffs in his gym bag. Tools of the trade. It’s not as innocent as he lets himself think, but they’re there in case things go sideways. Sideways like if you take one look at him and run the other way when you notice the way his half-lidded eyes barely blink as he stares at you. 

And he can’t have that. Not now that he’s found you. 

His patience is unwavering when the circumstances call for it. It’s a skill he picked up in the service, learning to channel all of the frenetic energy coursing through him into a tight point at the back of his mind, compressing it all down to a singularity that later he’ll allow to expand and burn itself out like a dying star. 

Not now though. Now he sits and he watches and he waits.

He stares at your ass while you run, crossfaded on his alpha’s slabbering hunger and his own need to wrench those leggings down your hips. When he has the luxury of time, he’ll tie you to his bed by your wrists and ankles, belly down to make it easier on him, and sink his teeth into the flesh of your ass until it’s tender to the touch, until even ghosting his hand over your ass makes you squirm and weep. 

Even the thought has a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. 

You’re not a very fast runner, but you’re quick enough. Like a rabbit, Johnny thinks and nearly laughs at his own joke. A distracted one at that, too concerned with what’s in front of you to notice what’s lurking right behind. 

No matter. He sits and he waits. 

Eventually, the treadmill starts to slow down, and with it, you. Panting to catch your breath. Fingers trembling when you pause the video on your phone and scrub a towel down your face to wipe off the sweat. 

And for once the entire gym smells of nothing but a honeyed sweetness. Spun sugar and strawberry Angel Delight. Intoxicating and heady. It permeates the building, dragging him deeper into a drugged haze, dulling his senses, plugging his ears with cotton until the only thing he can hear is the sound of your rabbit-quick heartbeat going bump-bump-bump in your chest.

You must have been finishing your workout with a light jog because when the treadmill comes to a complete stop, you take another second to catch your breath and then step off to the side, draping your towel around the back of your neck and heading for the locker room. 

Johnny feels himself rise to his feet but there’s no consciousness behind it. No intent beyond primordial reflex, prey drive kicking in when you try getting away. He forgets about everything else—the employee at the front desk, his gym bag next to him. His knees don’t even crack for once, the movement fluid, and when he follows you towards the locker room, his feet hardly make a sound. 

It’s to his advantage that you haven’t noticed him yet, but he’ll deal with that soon enough. The locked room door swings shut behind you and there’s a second where he hesitates, better thoughts creeping past his alpha to whisper in his ear that he doesn’t have to do it this way. He’s never had trouble with an omega before—why use force now?

And then he hears a locker slam shut on the other side and instinct takes over. 

You’re half-undressed in the middle of the locker room when he walks in, clad only in your panties and bra, and his world narrows down to that moment. Everything in his life has led him to this. Like a red sea parting; the universe suddenly giving him a sign, beckoning him forth. 

The door swings shut behind him and your ears twitch at the noise. 

He’s done this before in another life. Three strides and he slips right up behind you, arms winding around your front to pull you into his chest and covering your mouth with his hand. You freeze for a split second before going haywire, flailing in his hold, his hand muffling your screams.

“Shh, it’s just me, doe,” Johnny shushes you, arms constricting around you. Relishing the feeling of your body against his, warmer and softer than he imagined. 

You shriek behind his hand, twisting in his hold and trying with all your might to break free. Simple thoughts for simple creatures. Even when you try to bite his hand, Johnny only coos, cock swelling at the feeling of your tongue on his skin. The little kittenish licks just rile him up. He likes it less when you try to headbutt him, narrowly missing his nose when you throw your head back. 

When he dips his nose into the crook of your neck, he can’t help the growl that slips out of him.

“Enough o’ tha’,” Johnny growls, words reverberating with his annoyance. 

The sound makes you still, prey instincts as sharp as his. Smart girl. You know when not to push your luck. He’s bigger and stronger, and his teeth are precariously close to your mating gland, which sits nestled in the crook of your neck. 

He breathes in. Your scent is strongest there, at the base of your neck. A delicate layer of skin and then underneath it, your blood sings. Whispers praises high and sweet to him. A shuddering breath out. 

You mumble something behind his hand. Tremble violently, your nails digging into his forearm with a biting sting. 

He shushes you again. “No’ here, baby—gotta take ye somewhere more private.” 

He pays no mind to the way you resume your screaming behind his hand as drags you deeper into the locker room and away from the door. Hardly needs to use any of his real strength, only a fraction of it. The fight you put up would almost be endearing, would almost make him go thatta girl and nip at the tip of your nose, if not for the way it triggers his instincts, an innate urge to dominate you into submission. 

It isn’t hard to wrestle you to the floor in the showers. Like play fighting, all bark and whine and keen, teeth snapping an inch from his nose until he pins you under him, snarling right in your face until you submit. That gets you to stop making a fuss. The last thing he wants is to deal with a front desk employee trying to play the hero by pulling him off you. Not that anyone could. He’d rather this not end in bloodshed. 

“Tha’s better,” Johnny growls. “Jus’ be nice, a’right?”

You shiver at his words, eyes wide and petrified, darting all over his face. Even tinged with your fear, how could he not preen under your gaze now that you’re getting a proper look at him? He knows what he looks like—rugged and strong, mohawk recently cleaned up and beard freshly trimmed. Not a behemoth like Ghost, but big for an alpha, broad shouldered and beefy. 

Big for an alpha in a couple different ways, he leers.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whimper, and that breaks his heart. How could he ever? How could he ever look at something as perfect as you and want to ruin it? His chest aches at the thought. 

“No, baby,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. “Ah would never, baby, never. Dinnae be scared. Ah’m no’ gonna hurt you, doe.” 

He drags his nose down the length of your head, running his tongue over the rounded corner of your jaw. Your sweat tastes of wet roses and tart jam. Still intoxicating, but wrong, sour and sodden with fear. It makes his skin itch and his shoulders tense. You shouldn’t be scared of him; his omega should never be scared of him. 

“Ye cannae smell it, doe?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss into your neck, lingering there so he can feel your pulse flutter against his lips. “Ah can… Cannae smell a damn thing else when yer around. S’all ah can think about.”

“What are you talking about?” you whisper, so frightened that you can barely squeeze the words out, fear choking you. He can’t stand it. The thought that you might find him dangerous makes his throat burn, agony ripping his chest open and yanking his insides out. 

He braces himself up on his forearms and forces his hand under your head, lifting your head up off the tile floor.

“How do ah smell, doe?” Johnny rasps, shoving your face into his neck and holding you there until you have no choice but to inhale. He feels the way you shudder when you do, hands spasming against his chest. “Smells good, doesn’t it? Just breathe it in, doe.”

You do, shakily. Then a deeper inhale, filling your lungs with his scent. 

“I—oh god—” you groan, your hands suddenly fisting in Johnny’s shirt and dragging him closer. 

“Jesus,” he curses through clenched teeth, dizzy with lust. He goes with it, laying more of his body weight on top of you, hind brain taking over.

A long, deep inhale. Your nose digs into his neck. “What is that?” you whine. 

“S’the best thing in the fuckin’ world.” An understatement. Johnny’s eyelids fall shut when your tongue pokes out to lightly graze his neck. 

So much pent up emotion and anguish and want only for it suddenly—

stop.

Motion succumbing to instinct, to fate. Everything else is collateral damage when fate gets in the way. 

Your hands fisted in his shirt, scent ripening, fear replaced with something else—still sharp, but charged. Hesitant because you shouldn’t want this—it shouldn’t even be a thought in your head to indulge the strange man who wrestled you to the floor and forced you to scent him, but then you get a good whiff of him and that thought shakes like television static, like a mirage, like a glass surface wobbling right before it breaks—

When he pulls back, the world is different. 

You’re glassy eyed, so pliant now that he could do anything to you, anything at all. And then his eyes dip lower. 

He cups your neck with a clammy hand and strokes a finger over the lovely gland at the crook of your neck. It’s warm to the touch. 

“Look a’ this,” he breathes, awed. Your hand flies to his wrist, fingers barely able to wrap around it. 

“D-don’t touch it,” you choke out, swallowing harshly. It has to be sensitive. Still, Johnny can’t keep from stroking his finger over it again, soaking up the way his touch makes you shiver. Poor thing, gone so long without your alpha’s touch. 

“Ah cannae help it, doe,” Johnny whispers. He switches to his thumb, rubbing the pad of it over your gland until you whine and squirm, eyebrows drawn tight together. “Does it hurt, baby? Do ye need me tae make it better?”

You whine, trying to weakly bat his hand away. “N-no, that’s for my alpha—” 

“Aye, tha’s right.” His eyes gleam fulgurite under the fluorescent lights. “Fer yer alpha.”

He digs his thumb in harder until your mouth opens on a silent cry. 

His alpha drools a messy puddle beneath his skin, jowls sagging. It stares without blinking. 

It’s different than lust or bloodthirst. Darker; deep-seated. He’s never felt this way before, and, if his gut feeling proves true, he never will again. It’s like looking down a vast, dark hall, and seeing only one way out. 

A damp shower room floor in a locker room is no place for him to take his omega for the first time, but he couldn’t lift himself off you if he tried. His muscles feel far too heavy, like lead weights dragging him down, the gravity stronger here somehow.

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, sitting back on his haunches.

“Wait—wait, not here, alpha, please—”

Your protests fall on deaf ears. He wrenches your bra over your head, mindful not to let the back of your head smack against the tile floor. “Gentle, gentle—there we go. Tha’s a good girl.”

Your panties come next, stripped off and tossed elsewhere. His lips follow the path of his hands, sucking kisses into your hips and thighs until your fingers thread into his hair and yank. He yelps, scalp tingling with pain.

“Do tha’ again, doe,” Johnny purrs, shuddering when you do. Eyes rolling back in his head.

His world tilts on its axis when he forces your legs apart and stares at the perfect slice of heaven between your thighs. 

“Doe.” Voice broken, shredded. Running his thumb up the seam of your lips and moaning when your hole clenches at his touch and a drop of slick leaks out. “Oh, doe…she’s so…” 

Too awestruck for words. Language is beyond his grasp, too inadequate for the feelings coursing through him. Lacklustre, diaphanous thing. There’s no way to describe the feeling of leaning forward and touching his lips to yours, angling his head to give her a proper kiss, one with tongue and feeling. She kisses him back just as passionately. 

The taste of you is incomparable. He can’t believe he ever thought there was a world where he could subsist on just the smell of you. Impossible now that he’s had you on his tongue. He runs it up the seam of your pussy, the flat of his tongue spread wide to catch every honeyed dewdrop clinging to your skin, sucking each fold into his mouth to be extra thorough. The pearl sitting nice and pretty at the top gets a wet kiss for waiting so long for his touch. 

He pulls back for a second to catch his breath. “So pretty, baby,” Johnny whines, pulling the hood of your clit up with his thumb and sucking her into his mouth.

“Oh my god—” 

He buries his face into your cunt, the bridge of his nose wedged against your clit and making you howl. He doesn’t budge even when you practically wrench his hair out by the roots, too committed to making your pussy squirt all over his face. Not an easy task with the way you keep trying to push him away from your cunt, but Johnny’s always risen to any challenge. 

You howl when he wedges his tongue in as deep as it’ll go, thighs clamping around his head. Not a bad way to go, Johnny thinks in a daze, chin wet with your juices and nose nuzzling your sensitive little clit, making your whole body jolt. He can tell you’re close by the way your thighs spasm and your scent goes marzipan sweet, so lush and rich that his swollen cock leaks in his sweatpants.

It’s easy to get lost in your pleasure; Johnny feels it like it’s his own, his low back aching with the force of your impending orgasm. He misses your clit too much to let her get lonely though, so he lets go of your hip to push a couple fingers into your hole instead of his tongue. 

“C’mon, doe, lemme see ye come,” he whines into your pussy, thrusting all three fingers into your hole, half-lidded eyes with blown out pupils watching the way your pussy gobbles them up. “Just like tha’—oh, there we go, baby, oh my god, come on, yes—lemme have it, doe—”

Your release is wet on his hand and all over his face. Little pussy still milking his fingers, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

A hush falls over the room, the moment almost devotional. He thinks you might be crying, but it’s hard to tell because the blood in his ears is too loud and his hand is wet with your come and he wants nothing more than to do it all over again until you can’t even talk. 

He rises to his feet in a daze, a deep red flush high on his cheekbones. His shirt comes off first, pulled over the back of his head and tossed behind him; his sweats are similarly discarded, tugged down and kicked away until you’re staring up at him in all his hairy, naked glory, cock flush with blood and heavy, drooping away from his stomach.  

He laughs when he notices where your gaze has dropped. “Like what ye see?”

“I don’t know about this—” you start, but he pays your words no mind. 

“C’mere,” he growls, suppressing the urge to wince when he drops to his knees again.

Johnny hooks an arm under your low back, hoisting your hips up until your ass rests against his thighs, making your back arch. It thrusts your tits up towards his face and he nearly goes cross-eyed staring down at your cute little nipples. They look lonely too. 

He gets distracted again, forgetting about sinking his cock in your cunt in favour of hunching over to get his mouth on your tits. Sucks one until it's hard and pebbled against his tongue and circles his tongue over the soft areola skin, completely forgetting about your other breast. It’s hard to pull himself off. 

You yelp when he bites down, not hard enough to hurt, but deliberate enough to tick you off. 

“That’s too rough!” you hiss, grabbing him by the hair again. 

“Sorry,” Johnny gasps. He nuzzles between your breasts, practically purring. “Ah’m so sorry, doe, ah couldnae help myself…”

Puppyish, he leans up to bunt his head under your chin, shuddering when your fingers loosen and hesitantly scratch his head. 

“…Okay…” you murmur, overwhelmed. He ignores you, too content with nuzzling into your neck while you run your nails over his scalp.

Being this close to you after weeks of nothing is almost enough. The air reeks with your scent. If it weren’t for the ugly, festering ache in his belly, he’d be tempted to skip straight to this. Roll onto his back and pull you onto his chest, press his nose to the crown of your head and breathe in until it lulls him right to sleep. Maybe get a good belly scratch at the same time.

Then he inhales and the scent of your come on his chin makes his spine go stiff. Drool leaks from the corner of his mouth.

It can’t wait anymore. The thing under his skin shakes with hunger, its greed a ravenous, frothing appetite that goes mindless when it waits for its food. Do it. Do it now.

He braces a hand against the tile floor to lift himself up and pets your cheek with his free hand. “Ah’m gonna put it in now, okay, doe?” 

And he means it too, stomach cramping with eager anticipation, knot already filling up at the base of his dick—still small enough to pop it into your hole, but not for much longer—because it’s everything he’s dreamt of since he first caught your scent in the air. 

That must not be the case for you. 

When you twist onto your belly and try to scramble away, he stares dumbly for a second before seeing red. Johnny crawls after you, dragging you back by your ankle when you get a bit too far away and flipping you over again. You hiss when the back of your head smashes against the floor, hands reaching up to cradle it instinctively. 

You get it snarled right in your face, his anger erupting out of him like a geyser, like a dense fog rolling down from the mountains and spreading to everything below. “Ye dinnae fuckin’ move.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe. 

Even consumed by rage, he can smell your terror. Putrid, not the soft sweetness of your usual scent. There’s pain there too, and it makes his muscles tense like he’s ready to spring. It’s what brings his alpha to the surface, the scorch of anger cooling slowly as you lie there trembling. 

It doesn’t feel good, but he can’t—he can’t let you go. 

His hands flutter over your face, squeezing your cheeks and leaning down to plant kiss after soft kiss on your lips. “Doe, please, ye cannae do tha’…ah wanna be gentle, but ah cannae control myself if ye—” Johnny can’t bring himself to say it, the image too painful to contemplate. There’s no reason on Earth that his omega should be trying to run away from him.

“O-okay, alpha…I…I’ll be good.” 

His self-control is hairstring thin. “Yer just nervous, right? Tha’ why ye tried tae run?”

“I-I’m just nervous, alpha.” It’s a neat trick, repeating his words back to him in order to calm him down. It works. 

His chest deflates as he kneels there over you. Johnny stares into your eyes a few seconds longer, a subtle reminder not to fucking move, before he sits up again, rolling his shoulders back and tugging your lower half in again. 

This time when he notches the head of his cock against your entrance, you whisper oh god oh god oh god to yourself but you don’t try to run. It must seem inevitable—no way to fight him off or talk him out of it because there’s a film over his eyes that reflects nothing back. 

And then he slowly sinks his cock into you, your hole stretching around the mushroomed head. His jaw rolls on a shaky exhale.

Something in him cracks wide open and—

something ugly slithers out.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, voice cracking. His cock sinks in another inch, warm, wet heat sucking him in. “Jesus, doe, ah cannae fuckin’ breathe—”

You flex your hips at his words, ankles digging into the divots above his arse and pulling him in until he suddenly bottoms out, cock stuffed to the root in the warmest, snuggest cunt he’s ever felt. It nearly makes him go mad; he gets so close to it that his face goes numb, the blood pounding in his ears. He curls over you, a string of curses slipping out of his mouth. 

You’re there when Johnny opens his eyes again, damp hair haloing you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, a tear slipping past your waterline and dribbling down your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“It’s okay, doe.” His hands run up and down your sides, soothing you. “S’just instinct. Ye cannae help it any more than ah can.”

Your walls squeeze around his shaft, nerves making you tense up, and Johnny groans, his hand curling into a fist by your head. It takes every iota of his being not to come right then, buried to the hilt in your pussy with your ankles digging into his low back. He nearly does when you whine at him to move. 

“Okay, baby,” he breathes. 

Johnny tries to be gentle at first. Makes a conscious effort to rock into you with slow, smooth strokes, distracting you with a deep, wet kiss. Lips gliding together, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth only to graze it with his teeth, heat rushing through him when you tremble. Coaxing your tongue into his mouth and then sucking on it.

His control starts to slip when he tries to pull out and your ankles dig into his back, pulling him back in. The force of his next thrust makes your body shift, sliding up the wet floor. Too much. Be gentle. But he can’t—the pressure in his core gets worse the longer he fucks you, an eagerness to reach his end building and building. All he can do is chase it. Bite at its heels. 

“Yer so pretty,” he rasps, petting your face with shaky hands and bucking his hips into yours until you can’t hold back your pretty little moans. “Pretty, pretty doe. Ah’ve got ye, love.”

A few more like that, pounding into you until you squeak like a toy and he laughs, breathless and full of mirth. Buoyant. Revelling in the sound of you coming apart under him, all fractured pleas and kiss-swollen lips. 

Perfect angel, all sweetness and moans and cream coating his cock, gleaming under the fluorescent lights every time he pulls out. 

There’s a white ring at the base of his dick from the mess of your combined fluids. Johnny nearly passes out when he notices. 

His bad knee aches from digging into the tile floor. He’ll feel it in the morning when he wakes up with bruises on his elbows and shins, muscles stiff and twinging when he moves, but it’s a price he’ll happily pay to keep his pretty doe on her back with her legs spread. 

Any lingering guilt about fucking you on the gross shower room floor evaporates the more you pant and the wetter you get because, he rationalizes, on some level you must want him just as bad. Not with the same fervour, not a bone bright ache that sucks you dry and spits you out like a peach pit, but close enough that you aren’t pushing him away anymore. 

He ignores the weak pressure on his shoulders. Pries your hands off so he can pin your wrists together over your head. 

“Been lookin’ fer ye fer so long,” Johnny croons. He ruts into you clumsily, losing any semblance of finesse. “Smelt ye weeks ago ‘n knew…knew ah had tae have ye.”

Your eyes fly open, stunned. “Weeks?” you gasp.

“Thought ah’d lose my fuckin’ mind lookin’ fer ye.” His breath comes out ragged. “Couldnae sleep or eat or do anythin’ except jerk my cock raw. Should’ve saved it all up fer ye, but…” his laughter is a deep, brassy thing. “…ye’ll still get a fair share.”

“You’re disgusting,” you moan, and that makes him laugh even more, rutting into you like a beast.

“Christ, doe, keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“You’re a—”

dumb, nasty dog

sick in the head, fucking me with that big, fat dick—

He grunts and his lip pulls back in a mean, crooked grin. 

It’s never been like this before. Like someone drilled a hole in the side of his head and filled it up with you. You’re in every crevice of his mind and body, mycorrhizal tendril spreading through him.

“Ah’m gonna ruin yer pretty cunt, doe,” Johnny rasps, neck soaked with sweat and eyes burning hot, pupils blown so wide only a glimmer of blue remains. “Get her nice ‘n soaked with my come.”

“Alpha—” you keen, for lack of anything else to call him and it makes his vision go blank. 

That’s the only truth that matters to him. Like a divine calling—his omega begging for him, asking for more more more. It’s as close to love as he’s ever gotten; as close to heaven as he ever will. 

Diving headfirst into oblivion. He clamps his hands around your waist to hold you in place and fucks into you with renewed vigour, losing himself in the pleasure. Any coherent thought evaporates, reduced to mindless instinct. His beast and him are indistinguishable; two sides of the same coin; he looms over you Janus-faced, a god of beginnings and endings. 

He breathes out heavily through his nose, teeth gritting together and lips pulled into a flat line. So close to it, knot catching more with every thrust, almost too big to pull out. 

The smack of his hips against yours fill his ears, drowning out your pleading and keening. Seismic motions churning beneath the tile floor keep a steady pulse. The lewd squelch of your pussy nearly drives him mad—slick running down your thighs, pooling onto the floor beneath you, this place irrevocably changed because of your mating— 

If only you’d squirt on his dick too, he could die happy. Scream out alpha, alpha, alpha until you shudder and come.

And you do eventually—milk his dick filthy sweet and cling onto him for dear life, nails scoring red lines into the flesh of his back. His muscles bunching under your touch. 

“Fuck, doe,” Johnny chokes, near tears himself. His perfect girl coming all over his cock, eyes rolling back in your head like it’s never been like this for you before. “Tha’s right, tha’s right—such a good fuckin’ girl—oh, baby—”

You need him. No other alpha can take care of you he would. It’s not enough that he fuck you, not enough that he make you come, not enough that he see you through your next heat, he has to—

Take it all for himself, every last fuckin’ inch of you his.

He bears down on you, scooping his arms under your back until there’s no space between you, chests pressed together. 

His eyes zero in on it. The nodule of flesh at the crook of your neck. And his teeth itch like they’ve never itched before, too large for his mouth. 

“Alpha—” you sob, squirming in his hold. “Alpha—too tight—”

He can’t respond. Mouth full of drool and teeth, fucking you harder than you should be fucked, cockhead trying to kiss your cervix with every thrust. He’d crawl inside of you if he could. His thrusts only slow when his knot finally catches, the pressure making you sob when he tries to pull out and he can’t, stuck inside you. Lazy grinds of his hips now, getting as deep as possible. 

It’s a shock to his system so profound that he can’t stop shaking. His first knot—better than a ring, more binding than a marriage contract. The most basic, ancient covenant. Irrevocable. 

And—it feels—

Indescribable. His thoughts leak from his ears like tar. Eager, fevered. Eyes fixed on your mating gland, dropping his head to get a better view. Better up close, so close that his teeth graze it every time he pants, so sharp that one wrong move and they’ll slice right through, one twitch and it’s game over—

You mewl and arch your chest, inadvertently thrusting your neck up too, so his canine drags across your gland—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

The beast under his skin has a name and it’s—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

(and his teeth just slipped, he’ll say when you ask)

Ah dinnae mean tae, doe, honest—

But ah’ll take care of ye—

You’ll never understand it, but there’s a beast that lives under his skin and it—

—yearns, craves, hungers, howls like its belly is still empty even after all this time, constantly aching no matter how much it’s fed—

Sometimes Johnny wonders if it’s like this for other alphas. Whether they crave their mates with the same intensity, the same burning need smoldering in their veins. He asks Price once and gets an answer that neither confirms nor denies. 

All Johnny knows is that your legs shake when you follow him out of the gym, the employee behind the front desk not meeting his eyes. Better that he not. There’s still blood and come on his chin, his grey sweats stained at the crotch. You’re no better, shirtless under your puffy jacket, hat jammed on a bit too low on your head because he had to be the one to put you back together after taking you apart. 

And though he’s sheepish on the drive home—because what’s his is yours now, and what’s yours is his—your car still back in the parking lot until he can get someone to pick it up in the morning, he wears guilt like sheep’s clothing. It doesn’t fit quite right. 

“We’ll get ye a nice wedding gift tomorrow,” he placates when you huff, thumbing your swollen bottom lip at the next stoplight. It’s tempting to lean in and suck it into his mouth, even now. 

“I’m gonna max out your fucking credit cards,” you mumble, scowling at him. Still, you wrap your lips around his thumb when he slips it into your mouth. 

You cup your hand over your punctured mating gland in lieu of a bandage. 

Johnny cackles. Man plans and God laughs.

In the distance, thunder rumbles and your head turns towards the sound that only you and he can hear.

[solxamber]

And I Choose...

In which you pick the dorm you want to join

Part 1: Choose Us

Heartslabyul

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d be willingly moving into Heartslabyul, but here you were, standing at the entrance with your bags (and Grim, who was loudly complaining about the lack of a tuna fountain).

Riddle was the first to greet you, looking as composed as ever. “Welcome to Heartslabyul,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was formal, but the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed his excitement. “I trust you’ll follow the rules properly now that you’re part of this dorm.”

Before you could respond, Trey appeared beside him, looking far more relaxed. “We’re glad to have you here,” he said with a warm smile. “I already saved you a slice of cake—figured you’d need a snack after all the chaos today.”

Bless this man. Truly.

“Say cheese!”

You barely had time to process Cater’s voice before you were blinded by the flash of his phone. “Oh my Sevens, the new dormie vibe is immaculate! This is totally going on Magicam!” He snapped another selfie, this time pulling you into the frame. “And guess what? I’m using my clones to make moving day a breeze! You’re welcome!”

True to his word, Cater’s clones were already grabbing your stuff. You stared in disbelief as three Cater clones carried a single small bag together while laughing like they were in a cheesy sitcom. Efficiency clearly wasn’t their strong suit, but at least they were trying.

And then there was Ace and Deuce. The moment you’d announced your decision to join Heartslabyul, the duo had erupted into what could only be described as the most uncoordinated, chaotic victory dance you’d ever seen.

Deuce was spinning in circles like he was trying to summon a tornado, while Ace alternated between bad breakdancing and finger guns pointed at no one in particular. “We won! We won!” they chanted, completely ignoring the way Riddle’s eye was twitching in disapproval.

“You know,” you said, watching them make absolute fools of themselves, “I think I made the right choice.”

Grim snorted from his perch on one of your bags. “You’re surrounded by idiots, henchhuman.”

“Maybe,” you said with a grin. “But they’re my idiots.”

Savanaclaw

The moment you announced that you’d chosen Savanaclaw, chaos erupted.

Jack’s tail started wagging so hard it was like a propeller trying to take off. You half-expected him to lift into the air. “You won’t regret it,” he said, his usually calm voice brimming with excitement. “We’ll make sure you feel at home here.”

Ruggie wasted no time grabbing you in a headlock and giving you the noogie of a lifetime. “I knew you’d make the smart choice! You, me, and all this bribe cash—donuts for a whole year, easy! You’re officially part of the Savanaclaw hustle now!”

“Ruggie, I swear, if you ruin my hair—”

But the true shocker was Leona. At first, he played it cool, lounging lazily in his chair like your decision was no big deal. “Hmph, took you long enough,” he said, voice dripping with fake indifference. But then, as if he couldn’t help himself, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug grin.

And that’s when he pulled out his phone.

“Leona, what are you doing?” you asked, watching as he sidled up to you with the confidence of a king.

“Taking a picture. Gotta rub this in a little.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a selfie of the two of you. Then, with the smoothness of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, he took another.

One went to Vil. The other went to Malleus.

The captions?

To Vil: "Looks like I win. Stay beautiful, princess."

To Malleus: "Better luck next time, lizard."

You groaned, face burning. “Leona, was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smirking like the cat who caught the canary. “Welcome to the pack, herbivore.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Savanaclaw wasn’t such a bad choice after all.

Octavinelle

The second you announced you were choosing Octavinelle, chaos descended faster than you could say “Mostro Lounge.”

Floyd let out an earsplitting cheer and, before you could blink, scooped you up and tossed you into the air like a beach ball.

“Shriiiimpy’s ours now!” he cackled, catching you before launching you up again like he was testing the room's ceiling height.

“Floyd, please!” you yelled, your life flashing before your eyes as you flailed. “I don’t wanna meet the Great Seven this soon!”

Eventually, Jade stepped in, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Now, now, Floyd. Let’s not accidentally lose our new dormmate to an untimely accident. We wouldn’t want to scare them away before they’ve even unpacked.”

Floyd, grumbling, set you down but kept a firm arm around your shoulders, as if daring you to second-guess your decision.

Jade, meanwhile, adjusted his gloves with a serene smile that somehow felt a little too sharp. “Welcome to Octavinelle,” he said smoothly. “It’s wonderful to have you with us. I assure you, you’ll be treated with the utmost care here.” He looked way too pleased with himself, his gaze lingering like he was already planning your initiation.

Then there was Azul.

Azul looked like he’d just won a billion Madol jackpot. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to break into a little dance right there in the lounge. But then, with Herculean effort, he composed himself, clasping his hands and clearing his throat.

“Well, this is certainly a wise choice,” he said, adjusting his glasses like he hadn’t just been doing mental cartwheels. “I’m honored you’ve decided to join Octavinelle. We’ll make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

But then… he slid a very familiar-looking contract across the counter.

“Of course,” Azul added with a dazzling smile, “just a small formality. You see, this document simply guarantees that you’ll remain a proud Octavinelle student until graduation—oh, and a few other things.”

You stared at the contract hoping it might spontaneously combust. “Azul. I literally just joined. Can I have a minute to breathe before I sign my soul away?”

“No rush, no rush!” Azul said, not looking remotely deterred. “Take your time. But, ah—do keep in mind that signing sooner ensures the best possible benefits…”

As Jade handed you a drink (which you were very suspicious of) and Floyd draped himself over you, already talking about all the “fun” you’d have together, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made a deal with the devil.

Still, as Azul's smug smile softened into something almost genuine, you decided it wasn’t the worst deal in the world.

Scarabia

The moment you announced your decision, Kalim was on you like a whirlwind.

“YOU CHOSE SCARABIA!!” he yelled, tackling you into a hug so tight you thought you might pop like a balloon. Before you could even gasp for air, he was spinning you around the common room like you were some kind of trophy he’d just won.

“This is AMAZING! We’re gonna have so much fun! Parties! Feasts! Adventures! You’re gonna love it here!” Kalim babbled, his infectious excitement making it hard to even feel dizzy despite the rapid spinning.

“Kalim,” you wheezed, clutching his shoulders, “please put me down before my life flashes before my eyes.”

“Oh, right!” he said, gently setting you down with a sheepish laugh. “I got carried away. I’m just so happy!”

As you tried to steady yourself, a much calmer—but no less relieved—voice spoke from behind Kalim.

“I’m glad you chose Scarabia,” Jamil said, his expression carefully composed, though you could see the faintest hint of relief in his eyes.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes,” Jamil replied, crossing his arms and glancing away like he didn’t want to elaborate. But after a beat, he sighed and added, “You’re one of the few people here who keeps things balanced. With you around, maybe I’ll have a chance to stay sane.”

Your heart melted a little at his quiet admission, even as Kalim jumped in again, declaring he’d throw a party that night to celebrate your move.

“Let’s get food! Music! Oh, we should decorate your room! Jamil, can we hang up those golden lanterns I found last week? And—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose but unable to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips, “one thing at a time. Let them breathe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic, feeling a warm sense of belonging already. Scarabia might be a lot, but it felt like home.

Pomefiore

The second you announced your decision, Epel let out a laugh so sinister it would’ve sent chills down a villain’s spine. “HA! TAKE THAT, EVERYONE ELSE!” he shouted, whipping out his phone to snap a selfie with you.

Of course, Rook popped into the frame with perfect timing, striking an overly dramatic pose as Epel sent the picture straight to the first-year chat. “VICTORY IS OURS!” was the only caption needed.

Before you could even blink, Rook had swooped in, bowing theatrically. “Ah, mon cher, your choice has blessed us with the most magnifique triumph! Let us celebrate with a dance!”

You barely had time to protest before he twirled you around the room like you were in some period drama. His excitement was so contagious you almost didn’t notice when he dipped you dramatically—until you felt yourself tipping back, only to be caught by Vil.

“Honestly, Rook,” Vil sighed, steadying you with all the grace in the world. “Do try not to give them whiplash their first day.”

He turned to you, his usual poised demeanor firmly in place, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings. “Welcome to Pomefiore,” he said, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve made the right decision.”

You were about to respond when Vil, ever the perfectionist, immediately began fussing over your uniform. “Honestly, you can’t be seen like this. Your tie is uneven, and—Rook, stop standing there and help them adjust their collar properly!”

As Vil worked, meticulously fixing every little detail, you couldn’t help but notice the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He might’ve been playing it cool, but there was no hiding how pleased he was to have you here.

Epel and Rook, meanwhile, had started arguing about who deserved the credit for your choice, while Vil made it very clear that it was his influence that sealed the deal.

And just like that, your chaotic new life in Pomefiore began.

Ignihyde

The moment the words “I’m choosing Ignihyde” left your mouth, Idia froze like someone had yanked his power cord out. His hair flickered erratically, and for a second, you thought he might actually pass out.

“Big Brother? Big Brother!” Ortho shook him frantically, his mechanical arms making a soft whirring sound. “Stay with us! They chose us! You can’t glitch out now!”

Idia finally snapped back to reality, though his face was still pale, his hair sputtering like a dying neon sign. “W-Wait, what?! You…chose here? Are you serious? This isn’t like, a prank, right? Did Ortho bribe you?!”

“No pranks, no bribes. I chose Ignihyde,” you said, trying not to laugh at his genuine bewilderment.

He blinked rapidly, processing your words. “B-But the PowerPoint… I thought it was way too cringe. I mean, I had like, fifty slides about food optimization! Who’d find that interesting?! You were supposed to be like, ‘Ew, no thanks,’ and leave!”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of cute,” you admitted, watching as his hair flared a bright pink.

“C-CUTE?! AAHH, STOP, YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” He clutched his hoodie like his heart was going to short-circuit.

“Big Brother, calm down!” Ortho interjected, practically beaming. “They chose us! Isn’t this the best thing ever?”

Idia rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. “…So, uh, do you wanna, like…celebrate or something? I-I mean, I know you probably have better things to do, b-but if you wanna…play a game or something, that’d be cool.”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

Ortho let out an excited cheer and zipped over to hug you tightly, his arms surprisingly warm. “Welcome to Ignihyde! I’m so happy you’re here! This is gonna be the best!”

As Ortho buzzed around you, already listing off all the things you could do together, you caught Idia sneaking a shy glance your way. His hair was still flickering pink, and he looked like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You weren’t sure what life in Ignihyde would bring, but if it meant seeing Idia like this—flustered, happy, and maybe a little hopeful—you knew you’d made the right choice.

Diasomnia

The moment you announced you’d chosen Diasomnia, Sebek practically burst into flames.

“OF COURSE YOU CHOSE DIASOMNIA!” he boomed, puffing up with pride. “It’s the only logical choice! With the Young Master here, there was no other dorm worthy of your presence!”

Silver chuckled softly at Sebek’s theatrics, stepping forward with a kind smile. “Welcome to Diasomnia. I’m glad you’re joining us. Let me know if you need help moving your things—I’ll be happy to assist.”

Before you could respond, Lilia appeared out of thin air, laughing like a mischievous ghost. “Ah, welcome, welcome! We’ve been expecting you…or at least, I have. Let me go fetch Malleus so he can hear the good news himself!” And with that, he vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you blinking at the empty spot he’d occupied seconds before.

Malleus arrived moments later, his towering presence filling the room. His emerald eyes softened as they landed on you. “I heard you’ve made your decision. Have you truly chosen Diasomnia as your dorm?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I chose Diasomnia.”

The way his face lit up was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His usual composed demeanor melted into something warmer, brighter. He almost looked…giddy.

“This pleases me greatly,” he said, his voice rumbling with quiet joy. “Come. I’ll give you a proper tour of our dorm.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer before he gently ushered you forward, beginning the grand tour of Diasomnia. Lilia popped in and out of nowhere as you walked, adding bizarre and entirely unnecessary facts.

“And over there,” Lilia said, gesturing to a decorative suit of armor, “is what I wore when I once tripped and almost spilled soup on Malleus when he was a child. Ah, good times.”

Malleus sighed but didn’t stop him. “This area is the library. Feel free to browse the shelves at your leisure. I can show you my favorite tomes later.”

“And this hallway is where Sebek shouted for the first time when he thought Malleus was missing! Nearly shattered all the windows,” Lilia added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the whole thing feeling so surreal yet oddly comforting. Silver walked quietly beside you, throwing in the occasional useful tidbit, while Sebek followed behind, grumbling something about Lilia not taking the tour seriously.

By the time the tour ended, you felt strangely at home. The eccentricity, the warmth, the oddly familial atmosphere—it all wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Malleus turned to you, his expression soft but sincere. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll personally see to it.”

Lilia smirked. “Safe and well-fed. I’ll whip up something special to celebrate!”

“Please don’t,” Sebek muttered, but you just laughed, already feeling like you belonged.

Secret ending: Ramshackle

When you finally dragged yourself back to Ramshackle, you were met with Grim, lounging on the couch like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Well, henchhuman? Which dorm are we moving to? I hope you picked the one with the best tuna," he yawned, tail flicking lazily.

You slumped down next to him, groaning. "None of them."

Grim's ears perked up. "Huh? What do ya mean, none of them?!"

"I told Crowley to just fix the worst parts of this place. I’d rather stay here. Everyone’s so excited for me to join their dorm—I don’t wanna disappoint them."

Grim blinked at you, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. "Eh, as long as you're still my henchhuman, I don’t care. Besides, this place has character! And by character, I mean it’s haunted, but still."

The next day, Crowley gathered the staff and shared your decision with them. You’d half-expected him to brush off his promise, but to your utter shock, the teachers actually…pitched in.

Vargas showed up first, flexing dramatically. "Alright! Time to show these walls the power of my biceps! I’ll have this place sturdy in no time!" He started hammering away, though you were slightly concerned when he tried to patch a hole in the ceiling using a workout bench.

Trein followed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "This building is a historical relic, and it deserves proper restoration." He brought Lucius along, who mostly supervised by napping in different corners.

Crewel arrived next, snapping his gloves on. "We’re not half-assing this. Ramshackle is getting a full makeover. And you’re going to help, pup. Start scrubbing those floors. Chop, chop!"

Even Sam surprised you by popping up with a toolbox and a grin. "Can’t have my favorite customer living in a death trap, can I? Plus, a little investment in the neighborhood never hurts business!"

The repairs were chaotic but effective. You spent days dodging Vargas’ overly enthusiastic demolition attempts, enduring Trein’s lectures on historical preservation, and running errands for Crewel while he barked orders like you were a rookie in boot camp.

By the end of it, Ramshackle was almost unrecognizable. The roof no longer leaked, the walls were sturdy, and the floors didn’t creak like a ghost was stalking you (though you were pretty sure the ghosts were still there, just quieter).

Grim looked around, nodding in approval. "Not bad, huh? Maybe this place isn’t such a dump anymore."

You smiled, patting his head. "Yeah, it’s still home."

And as you settled back into your slightly less ramshackle life, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Sure, your dorm might not have been the flashiest or fanciest, but it was yours. And that was more than enough.

Masterlist

[rissouu]

I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!

when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.

your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.

that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.

but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.

he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.

well.. so you thought.

you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.

“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.

you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.

the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.

just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.

no. fucking. way.

“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.

technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.

how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?

the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.

you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.

but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.

“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.

with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.

instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.

about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.

with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”

you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”

as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?

“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”

that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.

you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.

“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”

your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.

“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?

“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”

throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”

before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.

“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.

it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?

“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”

‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.

you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.

you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.

“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.

the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.

it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.

“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”

“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.

“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”

that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.

gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.

“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”

every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.

that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.

gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.

“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”

gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.

when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.

“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.

you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.

the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.

“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”

a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.

he finally got his girl back.

faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.

“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.

the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.

“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.

his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.

your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.

“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.

gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?

finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.

the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.

your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.

“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”

his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.

“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.

“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.

the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.

his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.

his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.

“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.

your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”

gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.

his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.

“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”

you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.

“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?

gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”

you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.

“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”

you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.

“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.

gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.

“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.

your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.

“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.

“yes toru, i understand.”

if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.

©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

STRETCH (M)

★ PAIRING: cheerleader!Jaemin x cheer captain!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4k

★ GENRE(S): smut

☆ SUMMARY: Jaemin can't fit into his cheer uniform anymore because he's been working out too much. While you can't help but admire his muscles, you realize the entire team is admiring him too and that's not going to fly. You decide you need to take action and get Jaemin a new uniform

★ ☆ WARNINGS:  unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, explicit sexual intercourse, MDNI

☆★ NOTES:  The concept of cheerleader Jaemin is just too hot to me so I had to spin the block on this one. Continuation of Team Spirit! that can be read as a stand alone!

────୨ৎ────

Jaemin has been bulking up lately. He had always been really into fitness and a bit of a gym rat, but since joining the cheerleading squad, he hadn't had time for his regular workouts, Now with competition season over he was back at it and you couldn’t help but notice the results. His chest looked fuller, and his arms rippled with defined muscle, showing off all the dedication he’s been putting in.

But as much as you loved his body, it was definitely time for him to size up his uniform.

His chest was starting to press tightly against the front of his shirt, the stretchy spandex doing little to hide the swell of his muscles. The uniform shirt he wore was a crop top that showcased his abs. That was a sight that was already causing issues, stealing your attention at the wrong time. But this? This was far beyond what anyone should have to deal with. The fabric was strained to its limit, and each breath he took only made it worse.

You doubted that going up a size in spandex would make much of a difference, but something had to give—he was practically bursting out of his uniform. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

Standing on the opposite side of the gym, you watched him closely as he moved. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his toned arms flexed beneath a snug black spandex top. To be honest, it was quite a sight. You enjoyed observing the way his body moved in the uniform, but then reality hit when you noticed the rest of the team admiring his outfit as well.

The fun was over, that shirt had to go. You weren’t deaf to the whispers that drifted around the locker room when your teammates thought you weren't listening. You overheard them making comments about how good he looked. You had to forcibly push aside the twinge of jealousy that threatened to creep in, reminding yourself to stay composed and maintain a level head. You were captain, you couldn't just go on a jealous rampage.

You did eventually find a bit of solace in making those who had whispered about him run extra drills. It felt good to dish out some consequences for their gossip. Plus, the glare you shot their way throughout practice was enough to let them know you were aware of their little comments. After that, suddenly no one had anything to whisper about anymore.

Strange how that works.

You walked into the locker room after practice, a small bag in your hand. “I ordered you a new top,” you said casually, trying to avoid eye contact. Jaemin was always able to read you like a book and you were beyond embarrassed at the fact you couldn't focus during practice because of his boobs. He did not need to know what thoughts swirled around in your head.

Jaemin's head turns towards your direction, a curious expression on his face. "What's wrong with the one I have now?" he asked.

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting stretched out. It's time for a new one."

He looked unimpressed, clearly not buying your excuse but after a moment of silence, he shrugged and said, "Okay."

It wasn’t until Jaemin put on the new uniform top that you realized the mistake you had made. As he stood in front of you in the locker room, the shirt hung loosely around him, nearly swallowing his athletic frame. The baggy sleeves sagged at his arms, and the hem of the top drooped far below his waistline. You could see the dissatisfaction written all over his face as he scrunched up his nose in distaste.

"Uh, this… isn’t really the right fit, is it?" he asked, trying to tug at the fabric to adjust it.

"I swear it looked smaller online." You mentally kicked yourself for not double-checking the sizing.

Jaemin turned to face you fully, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "So, what? I’m just going to run around in a tent now?" His tone is playful.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I’ll order you something else. I promise I’ll get the right size this time."

"I just don't see what's wrong with my old one," he said, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words as you eyed him. "D-don't you think the other one is a little tight?" you ask.

Jaemin shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Feels the same to me.”

You took a breath, trying to be subtle. “In the chest area,” you emphasized, hoping to steer the conversation in the right direction, trying to give him as much of a hint as possible without sounding too blunt.

He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he glanced down at his torso. “Is that so?”

“It’s just that your old one hugs your body… a little too well, you know?”

Jaemin's eyes widened as he caught on. "Ohhhh...I see.” A smirk played on his lips. “Then I think it fits perfectly."

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. The way he looked at you—the confidence mixed with mischief—made your stomach flutter. You felt yourself blush, caught between wanting to call him out and being completely distracted by how effortlessly charming he was. "I'd agree if the entire team didn't think the same thing," you muttered, trying to deflect.

Jaemin's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Kinda like how the gym feels about you and your cute little spandex shorts during summer practice?" he asked, voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You felt your face heat up as he mentioned your shorts. You'd always thought they were just a comfortable choice, until the day he told you how much they showed off your ass and banned you from wearing them. "They're comfy," you said defensively, trying to brush it off.

Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

Okay, whatever," you huffed, eager to shift the topic. “But back to the point, this was supposed to be about finding you something that actually fits.”

"So what if it's a bit stretched out now? It's got character. Plus, it's like my lucky shirt now."

You shook your head, laughing. "Lucky shirt?" You echoed, incredulous.

He nodded, a fierce look on his face. "You can't keep your eyes off me when I wear it, so it must be lucky,” he says.

You groaned inwardly; he was going to be so insufferable in that shirt now. Why had you ever mentioned how it affected you? You could already tell he was going to exploit this newfound power over you.

Rolling your eyes with a shrug, you replied, “Whatever.”

You’d just have to come up with another plan to get rid of that shirt once and for all.

—

Ever since you discussed your thoughts on Jaemin's shirt, you could swear it had gotten tighter. You were convinced that the shirt held some sort of magical power of enchantment because you couldn’t focus. You were missing cues and forgetting routines left and right, all while Jaemin pranced around in his annoyingly snug shirt.

It was almost as if he was wearing a compression shirt that not only accentuated his chest but also highlighted his stupidly disgusting slutty waist that you definitely didn’t want to grip onto while he pounded you into the nearest surface. You were losing your grip on reality, and all of it was thanks to him and that evil shirt.

You found yourself watching Jaemin when you really shouldn’t. He was in the middle of his routine, and you had only seconds left before your cue to come in on the opposite side of the mat. You didn’t have time to think about your face buried in his chest, or how firm it would feel under your fingertips.

Your teammates began to notice your distraction, and whispers started to circulate about your sudden lack of focus. "Dude, you okay?" one of them asked, nudging you playfully. You forced a smile, trying to brush it off, but you knew you weren't fooling anyone.

Suddenly you hated cheerleading. If it weren't for cheer, Jaemin would never have become a cheerleader, he wouldn't be sporting that top, and these thoughts wouldn’t be plaguing you now.

You missed your cue because of course you do, and the irritation in Seungkwan's expression was immediate.

“Okay, how about we take a break? I feel like everyone isn’t checked in today,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you with a pointed intensity. You roll your eyes instantly regretting making him your second co-captain next to Nayeon.

As you step off the mat you go straight to your water bottle, you need to cool down. Your eyes naturally find Jaemin and you swore you saw a brief smirk flicker across his face, only to vanish just as quickly. Did he think this was a game? Did he find it funny?

You would show him funny.

When you showed up in the spandex shorts Jaemin had banned you from wearing to practice, there was no humorous twinkle behind his eye anymore when he'd caught sight of you. His face fell, eyes glued to your thighs.

“Oops,” you said playfully, walking past him with a bounce in your step. As you moved, you could feel his gaze lingering. "Let's have a good practice today, everyone!" you called out to the floor

Nayeon leads the stretches, and you follow along with the rest of the team on the floor. You don't bother pulling the hem of your shorts down when they roll up, knowing full well what it did to Jaemin. You  sit on the floor with your legs straight out Infront of you in a seated pike stretch. You reach out to touch your toes, tilting your head just enough to catch Jaemin’s reaction in the corner of your eye. Just as you expected his eyes haven't left your ass since you walked into the gym.

You pulled yourself back up straight, trying to play it cool as seungkwan announced for everyone to find a partner for stretches. Jaemin was at your side in a heartbeat.

“Next break, you’re changing out of those,” Jaemin says firmly, leaving no room for argument. He pulls you to stand in front of him, your back to his chest. His grip on your waist is strong. His hands travel and In one fluid motion, he grabs your thigh spreading your legs apart, then slides down the back of your thigh until he hooks under your knee. With a gentle lift, he raised your leg into a heel stretch, his fingers gliding sensually up your leg until they rested at your calf.

“Says who?” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure. “These are comfy, and they let me stretch to my full potential.” You tilt your head to look at the position he’s bent you into.

He’s so close that you can feel his breath against the back of your neck, the heat radiating from his body pressing against you. You could feel that he’s hard pressed up against you.

“Also, I don’t remember asking for your permission to wear whatever I want,” you add.

Jaemin stretches your leg a little further, not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make you feel the burn.

“You’re going to take them off, or I'll do it for you.”

As you stretched, a whine escaped you, and your lips instinctively pouted. "Fuck you," you spat out.

His response came swiftly: "Watch your mouth." He spits back.

He slowly lowered your leg, and once you caught your breath, he met your gaze with a challenging look in his eye. Jaemin was the sweetest thing but he would always be quick to put you in your place when you step out of line. He gestured for you to drop into a split, and with a subtle dip of your head, you secretly rolled your eyes but reluctantly obeyed.

You ease into a split and Jaemin situates himself on his knees behind you, his body leaning against yours in a warm press of heat. He gently pushes you forward, his hand gliding down to rest on your lower back for support. You lean into a saddle split, hands splayed out in front of you as you stretch forward.

Jaemin adds pressure and you're forced to delve even further into the stretch. His body provides an added push against yours, testing your limits. You grit your teeth, drawing on your flexibility to hold the position, but you could feel the burn.

It's not easy to hold the position, even with how flexible you are. You're used to bouncing back up, shaking out your muscles, and moving on to the next stretch. But with Jaemin's guidance, you're forced to push your boundaries and remain still, letting your body adapt to the demands of the stretch.

"Jaemin let me up." You huff.

“Gonna take ’em off?” he quips, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Fine!” you relent.

Jaemin allows you to sit up and once you catch your breath he helps you stand. He looks you in your eyes as he tugs on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down just enough after they’ve rolled up, raising an eyebrow at you in a silent dare. "Keep them that way," he stated with an air of authority, making your cheeks burn in annoyance.

“Okay, guys, back to your positions! We're going to start routines soon!” Nayeon called out.

With Nayeon and Seungkwan in charge of leading stretches, it was now your turn to step up and guide the rest of practice. You burn holes into the back of Jaemin's head as he joins up with Shotaro as practice officially starts.

—

After everyone else had cleared out, you found yourself cornering Jaemin in the locker room.

“This isn’t fair,” you grumble, crossing your arms. “If I can’t wear my shorts, you aren’t allowed to wear that stupid crop top.”

Jaemin turned to you, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Is that what this is about? Can’t keep your eyes off me, so you decided to pull this stunt? I thought you were more mature than that, baby." His smirk widened as he leaned against the locker, arms crossed over his chest. The way that obnoxious top clung to his newly bulked-up frame was maddening.

“Newsflash, Jaemin. I wear those because they’re comfy.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to confront him. "You wear that shirt because you like, some kind of attention whore. How do you even breathe in that thing?” Your voice echoed slightly in the empty locker room, bouncing off the tiled walls.

His laugh was low and utterly infuriating, the casual way he dismissed your frustration only stoking the fire inside you. He pushed off the locker, closing the distance between you in two easy strides. Suddenly, his hands landed on your hips, warm and firm, pulling you close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“And what if I am?” Jaemin murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you firmly in place. “It got your attention, so what are you going to do about it? You gonna punish me for it?”

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be mad at him. But the way he looked at you, all dark eyes and that cocky grin, made it hard to think straight.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your voice wavered just a fraction, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

Jaemin’s smile deepened, and before you could react, he spun you around, his body pressing your back against the cold metal lockers. He pinned you there, solid and unyielding. One hand slid up your side while the other gripped your thigh, lifting it over his hip slightly so he could press himself closer.

“Go ahead,” he dared, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Punish me.”

The challenge in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel how hard he was pressed against you, and it took everything in you not to squirm. Instead, you raised your chin defiantly.

“Don’t think I will?,” you warned, though your voice came out softer than you intended.

Jaemin’s lips curved into an amused smile, and he leaned in, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. “You won't.”

His hand slid to your hips, fingers slipping past the waistline of your shorts to toy with you. You bit your lip to stifle a gasp, but it escaped anyway, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.

“Let me hear you baby, I know.” he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your clit. “I can tell, you know. Every time you look at me during practice. You get that naughty look in your eyes when you know you're supposed to be focusing. Bad girl.” He coos.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though your protest lacked any real conviction. His touch was too distracting, his words too close to the truth.

Jaemin chuckled, pulling his hands from your shorts. “Make me…or are you done pretending to be in charge.”

That did it. You shoved him back, pressing your palms against his chest. He stumbled slightly, his back hitting the row of lockers opposite you.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing heavily, staring each other down. Then, without thinking, you closed the gap between you, grabbing the hem of his stupid uniform top and yanking it up.

Jaemin’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t stop you. You tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. You let your gaze roam over his body, taking in the changes that had occurred. His shoulders were broader than before, his chest more defined. The faint trail of hair leading from his navel downward made your mouth go dry.

“Happy now?” he asked, his voice rough.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in, catching his bottom lip between your teeth in a quick, punishing bite. He hissed, but his hands immediately found your hips again, pulling you flush against him.

“Not even close,” you whispered against his mouth before kissing him properly, hard and demanding. Jaemin responded instantly, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands roaming your body with a urgency that made your head spin.

Somehow, you ended up on the bench, his weight pressing you down into the hard wood. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed his way lower, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just above your collarbone.

“Jaemin,” you gasped, your voice barely audible.

He lifted his head, meeting your eyes for a brief moment before capturing your mouth again. His hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The sensation made you moan into the kiss, and Jaemin grinned against your lips.

“Not so bossy now huh captain?” he murmured.

You glared at him and opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue as his hand slipped lower, past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brushed against the slick warmth between your legs, and you couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through your body.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Jaemin’s smile was downright predatory as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re so wet already,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “All because of me? or maybe it was because of that crop top you claim to hate so much? You like it, admit it.”

You wanted to deny it, to push him away and regain some shred of control. But instead, you tilted your hips, silently urging him on. His fingers dipped inside you, slow and deliberate, and your head fell back against the bench.

“Jaemin,” you moaned, his name becoming a broken chant on your lips. His thumb circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more, but he kept his pace agonizingly slow, drawing out every sensation until you thought you might explode.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice dark and commanding.

You shook your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction but Jaemin wasn’t having it. He withdrew his hand, leaving you aching and empty, and propped himself up on his forearm above your head to look down at you.

“Say it,” he demanded, his eyes burning into yours.

You swallowed hard, your pride warring with the need coursing through your veins. Finally, you gave in, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I want you. All of you. Now.”

Jaemin didn’t need to be told twice. Jaemin swiftly strips you down, his hands moving with practiced ease. The cold wood of the bench bites into your back as you make contact, sending a shiver down your spine. The locker room was cool and you can’t help the goose bumps that prickle your skin. He reached for the waistband of his pants, shoving them down just enough to free himself. Once he's between your legs you reach out, gripping him in your warm palm and stroking him over a few times. His mouth hangs open in pleasure. He watched, breathless as you brush his tip against your entrance. Once you dip the head in he's taking over again and pushing his hips forward to drive into you in one smooth motion. The gasp that escaped your lips was swallowed by his mouth.

He starts at a brutal pace, not in the mood for anymore games. His hips snap against your ruthlessly and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to stop yourself from sliding off the bench. Jaemin groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he moved.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your body trembles as the pressure builds inside you. He slips a hand between your bodies to toy with your clit. You arch your back in response. As your legs began to tremble, you felt Jaemin's smile pressed against your skin when he kissed your shoulder.

“That's right baby. Is this what you needed?” he murmured between choppy breaths, his voice low and sultry.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his unrelenting thrusts and cruel fingers. You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. Your mouth opens to respond; you know better than to remain silent, but nothing comes out. You nod your head lazily instead.

He shakes his head at you disapprovingly. “You know that's not good enough princess. Use those fucking, words.” He punctuates each of his words with a toe curling thrust of his hips as he pumps into you.

“Yes! F–fuck, don't stop.” You cry.

“Mmm,” He moans before leaning down to kiss you again. The kiss is wet and full of tongue as he licks into your mouth. “Gonna fill you up.”

When you finally came, it was with a cry that echoed off the walls, your nails scratching down his back. Jaemin followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you. You shiver as his hot seeds spill inside of you. When he pulls out his eyes watch as his cum drips out of you. You reach down in between your legs and collect his cum before pushing it back inside of you with a moan.

“Don’t want to waste a drop.” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

Jaemin eyes you hungrily before he closes his eyes to take a deep breath. He needed to calm himself before he had you pinned up against the lockers next.

Jaemin gets up before he decides to have you again, getting off the bench to rummage through his bag. He comes back to you with a towel and cleans you up. He gathers your clothes and helps you dress again before following suit.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice still rough, “how do you really feel about the crop top”

You turned to look at him, incredulous. “Are you serious?” You couldn’t wrap your head around how he effortlessly switched from driving you wild to being your sweet boyfriend in an instant.

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that seemed to fill the chilly locker room, and pulled you closer. “Dead serious.”

You sighed, unable to meet his gaze. “I… I like it.” You admit.

Jaemin's smile widened, but just as he was about to respond, you jumped in to clarify.

“BUT! That doesn’t mean I’m letting you wear it to practice. We’re going to order you the correct size, and as for that one,” you said, your gaze narrowing playfully at the shirt still lying on the floor, “that one is for my eyes only.”

“Deal.”

[moonstruckme]

Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.” 

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know. 

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head. 

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.” 

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.” 

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”  

“What did he want you to let me know?” 

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.” 

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.” 

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?” 

“Better than when I woke up.” 

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench. 

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead. 

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly. 

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.” 

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too. 

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.” 

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.” 

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.” 

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.” 

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.” 

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.” 

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?” 

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?” 

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.” 

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.” 

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

[heestoleurgirl]

sim jaeyun 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which riki broke up with you, leaving you devastated and depressed. that is, until you get drunk on a night out, and somehow find yourself in his best friend's bed.

genre: angst, smut (pwp) pairing: ex's best friend!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI!! wc: 5k

A/N: why am i writing jake smut, im not even jake biased

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

21 days. 21 days since your boyfriend, riki, broke up with you. everyone said it would get easier to deal with over time, and you knew they were right, but you still felt like shit every hour of every single day.

anywhere you looked, you'd just get reminded of him and have flashes of unwanted memories in your mind. it felt like absolute torture. yes, this had been your first serious relationship and you loved him so much, of course you were upset (to say the least).

the worst part was that you still saw him every now and then on campus, which only made your heart ache more. especially when he happened to be around his girl friends. you knew it was just irrational jealousy but that didn't stop you from getting nauseous at the sight.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

one thing was for certain: you couldn't keep going like this, you were extremely exhausted from feeling so miserable 24/7. crying all the time was getting old, and rotting in bed forever didn't seem like a good long term solution. so, you had a totally mature and genius idea that would definitely not make things worse in any way. there was a house party being hosted by someone you knew, it would be the perfect place to get drunk and forget about your ex. even if it's just for one night.

your friends had already been nagging you to go, knowing your current state and how you barely left your house unless it was absolutely necessary. they were worried for you and missed your radiant aura. minhee was convinced she'd find you a hot guy that would help you move on. yeah, you knew that wouldn't work as simple as that, it wasn't easy to simply forget someone you loved with your whole heart and dated for quite a while. but at least you could give it a try, right?

♡

fast forward to friday, you sat on the carpet in front of the body length mirror in your room, attempting to do your makeup. truth be told, it's been a while since you made yourself look so glamorous, which made it all the more difficult to get ready. every fibre of your being was screaming at you to just stay home and cry yourself to sleep while watching rom coms. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to stay on track with your plans and also not let down your friends who were there for you.

the faint sound of a honk broke you out of your thoughts, causing you to grab your belongings and waddle down the stairs in a dress that was shorter than you were comfortable with. your friend karina had gotten it for you a while ago, and you felt bad for never wearing it since then.

"looking good y/nnie!" minhee smirked and jokingly whistled as you managed to navigate yourself in to the passenger seat of her car.

all you could do was roll your eyes and playfully nudge her shoulder. "shut up"

she wiggled her brows in response before shifting gears and taking off to pick the other girls up too. you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous about tonight, and feeling some form of regret. you could only pray and hope that riki wouldn't be there, or you'd definitely drown yourself in the pool without a second thought.

following your excited and chatty friends up the stairs felt strangely like walking towards your impending doom. you stuck close to minhee, who unsurprisingly immediately made her way to the drinks. not like you minded, because there was no way you were surviving this night without any alcohol.

the unknown mix of drinks burned your throat as you swallowed it, not really bothering to be sensible. before you knew it, you were on the dance floor with your friends, laughing and singing along to the songs blasting from the speakers. even if it was due to the alcohol, finally having a smile on your face was really refreshing. karina seemed to notice, who flashed you a grin and tugged you closer as the two of you were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

as the night went on, you gradually lost yourself to the alcohol that was now buzzing in your veins. you didn't feel like yourself at all, but in the best way possible. anyone would be able to tell that you were completely out of it by now.

you had no idea where your friends had disappeared off to, and somehow you found yourself not caring. while you were busy pushing past people with no particular destination in mind, you accidentally bumped into someone.

"woopsies, silly me!" you giggled drunkenly, looking up to see who it was. your heart did a backflip when you managed to recognize the face staring back at you.

"no worries darling." you knew that aussie accent way too well. standing right in front of you was jake, riki's best friend. honestly you were just relieved that it wasn't riki himself.

"oh, hi jake." you stumbled a bit and grabbed onto his arm for support. he merely looked down at you in amusement, finding the blush on your cheek quite cute. his eyebrow shot up subtly, eyeing the revealing dress that was definitely out of chatacter for you. despite that, you looked undeniably gorgeous like always.

jake's hand moved to your waist casually, acting as a stabilizer so you wouldn't fall over. normally, you would've felt awkward in a situation like this, but now you weren't even phased.

"you look like you've had one too many drinks, hm?" he leaned closer to speak, so you'd hear him over the loud music. your hands instinctively tightened around his arm.

"i-i'm fine..." you mumbled stubbornly, even though it was obvious you were close to collapsing right there on the spot.

"are you here alone? where are your friends?" if you were sober, you definitely wouldn't have missed the slight concern laced with his voice.

"uhmm... i dunno!" you grinned sheepishly at him, still pressed against his arm. "i think they ditched me"

you had no idea when or how you lost them, so his guess was as good as yours. "i was just about to leave anyway. can't leave a pretty thing like you drunk and alone"

before you knew it, jake was dragging you out of the party along with him. you weren't exactly sure what was going on, but even in your state you knew that you trusted him. after all, he was your ex's best friend, you'd known him for a while.

♡

jake guided you into his bedroom, sitting you down on his bed and looking down at you, as if contemplating something. now that you were actually here, in his apartment, he wasn't sure if this was the right decision. but what else could he do, leave you at the party when you were completely shitfaced? absolutely not.

he kneeled down in front of you and carefully took one of your legs in his hand, removing your heel with the upmost precision. the other one was discarded too, letting your feet feel relieved from being squished together all night.

you were quiet now, past your drunken giggling and just zoning out, having no clue where you were. he almost laughed at the sight. he'd never seen you so vulnerable and adorable.

"stay here, i'll bring you some water" he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. true to his words, he returned with the water in one hand, and a pill in the other.

you watched with glossy eyes as he sat down next to you and gently guided the glass to your lips. you obeyed, feeling refreshed by the cold liquid. he gave you the pill next, urging you to swallow it. "this will make your headache more bearable tomorrow"

a quiet hum left your lips as you followed his instructions, then set the glass aside on his nightstand. your movements were still uncoordinated and messy, making him chuckle.

"you tired, pretty?" jake examined your droopy eyes, you looked so cute he had to hold himself back from smothering you in affection.

the first time jake saw you, he had felt starstruck. if he could go back in time, he definitely wouldn't have fumbled you so bad. he was a coward, he waited too long and suddenly you were dating his best friend. despite all his attempts to get rid of his attraction towards you, nothing seemed to work in his favour. you were quite literally the only girl he couldn't have, and ironically enough also the only one he wanted. but of course, he was respectful of your relationship with riki and was good at hiding his feelings towards you, he'd never let his jealousy be the reason he fell out with his best friend.

so here you were, sitting in his bed, drunk off your ass and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why you'd drink so much. he wasn't sure how riki would react if he knew the situation he was in right now. he chose to push that thought aside and focus on you.

when you didn't answer his question, he spoke again, "you can sleep in my clothes, yeah?"

you nodded and stood up, letting him help you make your way to the bathroom. As he was closing the door, he added one more thing. "if you need any help, just shout for me."

it was quite difficult to get your dress off, but you managed somehow. all your limbs felt weak and heavy, and you were still disoriented, though you were able to change without falling over or breaking anything. jake's shirt swallowed your small frame comfortably, and you smiled faintly at the smell of his cologne lingering on the fabric. your mind was a jumbled mess of feelings as you returned, seeing him scrolling his phone, also in a more comfortable set of clothes.

he looked up and smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly travelling down your body as he took in the sight of you. to him, you'd never looked hotter. the combination of your messy hair and his shirt stopping by your mid-thighs was enough to make his head spin. he had to remind himself that you were drunk, and no matter how badly he wanted you he couldn't take advantage of you in this state.

seeing him pat a spot on the bed, you didn't need much convincing to climb under the covers and rest your head on a pillow. once again, you were welcomed with his scent, causing you to feel strangely comforted.

jake stood up and gave you one last look, making sure you were laid on your side so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself by choking on your tongue.

"where are you going?" you asked tiredly, opening your eyes to see him by the door of his bedroom.

"i'm sleeping on the couch." he raised a brow, surprised to see you sit up in the bed after just getting comfortable. your next words made him wonder if he was hallucinating.

"come back, i don't want to be alone"

your quiet, pleading voice was simply impossible to resist. how could he say no, when you were looking at him with literal puppy eyes? he sighed, and following a moment of hesitation he climbed into bed next to you. it's not like he didn't want to sleep next to you, god he would give anything to experience this. but he wasn't sure how long he could control himself when you were in his bed, looking like an angel.

for a few minutes, the room was filled with heavy silence as the two of you simply stared at each other. you admired his face, the dim lighting only adding to the tension slowly filling the air. you'd never really noticed just how pretty he was before. his round, brown eyes seemed so welcoming.

"jake..." you almost whispered his name, with nothing specific in mind. you just wanted to end the silence between you, it felt too tense.

"hm?" his eyes never left yours, studying your face as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. the longer you looked at him, the more your heart seemed to race.

"i... i don't know"

"what's wrong?" jake studied your glossy eyes, wondering why you were suddenly acting so emotional. his heart clenched at the sight of you nearly crying. he longed to pull you close and kiss you until you were smiling again.

"i don't know, i just..." you struggled to find words to express how you felt, especially with the alcohol still lingering in your system. there was so much you wanted to say, but you knew better than to break down in his bed when he'd been kind enough to bring you home with him safely. "...i don't wanna be alone. i hate the silence, i hate feeling everything and nothing at the same time i-"

suddenly you felt his finger wiping a stray tear from your cheek, one you haven't even noticed falling. there it was, that familiar heavy feeling in your heart. the one you were so sick of feeling, all you wanted was for it to go away.

you didn't really think before scooting over and hugging jake's larger frame. your face was buried in his neck, a good way to hide your tears as well as your embarrassment. his warmth felt intoxicating and you clutched his shirt like you were afraid he'd disappear.

jake didn't hesitate to welcome your hug and return it, he was more than happy to be your shoulder to cry on. seeing you in such a state made him realize just how emotionally drained you'd been since the breakup happened, he silently cursed riki for not taking care of you properly.

you felt like this was the first time someone had properly hugged you in weeks, which didn't help the overflowing emotions you were already experiencing. you clinged to him as if he was your lifeline, your only hope. there was no way you could explain the way his entire presence and embrace was more comforting than anything you'd felt in a while.

maybe you were delusional, but being in his arms like this made you feel all the more attracted to him. letting your guard down was something you rarely ever did, even with your most trusted friends. yet here you were, silently crying in jake's bed and confessing how lonely you felt as of late. it felt so intimate to be vulnerable around him.

"it's okay, you're not alone. i'm here, yeah?" he murmured against your hair, rubbing your back gently in an attempt to calm you down. if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed the subtle nod of your head.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave." you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the bare skin of his back that was practically radiating heat.

your touch caught him off guard and he almost hissed at the contact, his arms tightened around your waist. "i'm not going anywhere darling, and you have nothing to be sorry for. you've been through a lot and you just need some love"

yeah, you did need love. you felt guilty, a part of you still yearned for it to be riki who gave you the love you wanted so badly. but he was gone now, no matter how much you cried over it the past won't change. the more rational part of your brain was constantly urging you to move on and accept the fact that riki doesn't love you anymore. you swore the mixed emotions were going to drive you insane, if they haven't already.

but right now, even if it wasn't what you wanted, jake was what you needed. if only you knew the true extent of how much he cared for you.

jake's hands paused against your back when he felt the soft press of your lips against his neck. it surprised him so much that he couldn't help but wonder if he was imagining things. but no, he felt it yet again. "fuck, angel... don't do that" he struggled to speak properly.

"why not?" you pulled away a bit to examine his face, searching for signs of any discomfort, or maybe disgust. you just wanted to shower him in affection to show him how grateful you felt to be here with him right now. to be able to sleep in his bed and cry in his arms to your heart's extent.

he wasn't sure how to explain the reason he didn't want you to kiss him right now, and you were completely oblivious to his internal struggle.

"you're still tipsy, and emotional..." jake brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, "i'm not going to take advantage of your state." he was being so sweet to you, it was almost annoying. yes, you were still not entirely sober but you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be... close to him.

so instead of replying, you leaned closer and pecked his cheek, causing jake to groan aloud. how could he possibly restrain himself when the girl he was whipped for was acting like this? he cupped your jaw with one hand and pulled your face closer, placing his lips onto yours with one swift motion.

your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed back as if you had done this a million times before. it felt so natural, and you were becoming lightheaded from how perfectly your lips felt against each other. previously you'd been worried that kissing someone would feel wrong, and you thought you'd imagine you were kissing riki instead, but right now there wasn't a single thought about him in your mind. all you could focus on was how good it was.

jake felt like he was losing his mind more every second he continued to kiss you. he didn't care how needy he might be coming off, cause fuck he'd wanted to this for months. never in a million years did he anticipate it would actually happen, in this context no less.

the kiss grew more heated as you moved your hands from his back to feel up his defined abs, relishing how supple and warm his skin was. at the same time, jake had a hand cupping your cheek, while the other one slid down to your waist, dipping under the shirt you were wearing. the feeling of your bare skin under his fingertips was absolutely euphoric. safe to say, neither of you were thinking about how right or wrong this might be at the moment. all your thoughts were out the window and you were entirely immersed in his company.

he didn't hesitate for a second when he realized you were tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently demanding its removal. the t-shirt was tossed aside, landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. your eyes widened as you were met with the sight of his bare upper body, you had to hold yourself back from practically drooling at the view. jake noticed your lustful gaze and couldn't help but smirk to himself. he pulled you closer and kissed you briefly before whispering in your ear lowly, "your turn."

he didn't leave you time to respond, tugging your shirt over your head. the action made you blush a bit, but you lifted your arms to help him remove the item of clothing. faint goosebumps littered your skin due to the sudden loss of heat, mixed with the tension in the air.

your hands landed on his chest, you took a moment to look into his eyes before inching closer and placing your lips on his for the nth time. the passion was halted for a moment, leaving room for the kiss to be more timid and soft. it didn't last for long though, soon enough it turned needy once again.

jake sat up without warning and pulled you into his lap snugly by your waist. your legs landed on either side of his thighs as you made yourself comfortable and wrapped your arms around his neck. his half lidded eyes and lazy grin made your heart skip a beat. for a second you felt stunned, an overwhelming sense of need filled you. he didn't miss the way your gaze travelled down his bare body once again, it sent a strange kind of satisfaction through him.

his lips found their way down from your jaw to your neck, peppering it with soft kisses. a quiet groan left his throat as you thread your fingers through his dark brown hair. the playful kisses turned into gentle nips and bites, jake couldn't resist leaving a few pretty marks along your porcelain skin.

your hushed gasp was a contrast to the mostly quiet atmosphere as his hands had somehow ended up squeezing your backside. the action caused you to arch your back instinctively, making you grind against him.

"fuck." he whispered, gently guiding your hips in his lap. the slight friction was intoxicating.

"jake..." his name left your mouth in a quiet whisper as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, letting your urges get the best of you.

"i know, baby" his hands slid lower to caress your inner thighs tenderly. he tried not to moan as his hips pushed upward involuntary, amplifying the friction between you, while his boxers were becoming increasingly tight as his arousal strained against the fabric.

your lips found his once more, you were getting more desperate by the second and your mind was consumed purely with need for him. the material of his sweatpants felt soft under your fingers as you tugged subtly.

jake's breath hitched and his resolve crumbled almost immediately. he was a gone man, there was no going back now. breaking the kiss and muttering a quiet curse, he shoved his sweats and boxers down his hips in one swift motion. the rest was kicked off carelessly, leaving him completely bare under you. his hard length stood heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking.

the sight made you want to faint on the spot, you had been so caught up chasing your lust and now it all felt real. you were still hovering on your knees, having lifted your hips to let him remove his remaining clothes.

but jake didn't plan on waiting around while you admired his erection, in a quick motion he flipped you over, pushing you against the pillows as he hovered above you. the view he had right now was almost enough to make him cum on the spot: you laid beneath him, sprawled out with messy hair and slightly swollen lips. not to mention some red marks he's left on your neck earlier (they definitely weren't the last either).

"you're so gorgeous, it's unfair."

before you knew it, he was kissing your shoulder, distracting you from the way his hand slid under your lacy panties. the gasp that left your lips was enough to let him know that you were surprised to feel his finger trail along your folds. god you were so wet he groaned out loud, opting to suck on your neck to keep himself quiet.

your arms darted to wrap around his neck once more as you felt him slide a finger into you. a broken moan left your lips, you bucked your hips into his hand, wanting to feel more of him.

"fuck, pretty, you're soaked" he murmured, his voice somewhat strained as he held himself back from shoving himself in fully and fucking you until you passed out.

"jake-" you couldn't speak properly even if you tried, especially not when another finger was pushed into you with ease. it was completely out of your control how your walls clenched around his diligently working fingers. "please..."

he could tell you were growing impatient and he knew exactly what you were asking for. as much as he longed to tease you and make you squirm under him as much as possible, his own arousal was consuming him whole.

after a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulled them out, earning a quiet whimper from you. he couldn't hold back a smirk, there was nothing that turned him on more than seeing you all desperate and needy for him, like you'd die if he didn't fill you up immediately. jake was pretty sure he'd never been as hard as he was right now in his entire life.

your panties were practically ripped off, not that you minded because that was the least of your concerns at the moment. you were completely focused on how jake grabbed your thighs and nudged them apart to position himself at your entrance.

he rubbed his tip against your aching clit, coating himself in your wetness and teasing you at the same time. "is this what you need doll? want me to fill you up?" he asked, his voice was low and laced with desire even with the obvious rhetorical question. he nudged inside, not giving you the full length yet as he moved his hands all over your body.

"yes! please jake, i need you" you whined shamelessly in response, tugging him closer with your hands on his back. there was no room for embarrassment, especially when you knew how much he was getting off from your begging.

he grunted in satisfaction at your response, pushing inside slowly until his hips pressed against yours. your gummy walls were tight and inviting, sucking him in with no effort. if jake thought he was close to losing it completely earlier, he was not ready for this moment. his entire body was tingling, senses heightened yet his brain completely gone, unable to form coherent thoughts.

"so good for me, i knew you could take it" he soothed your faint whimpers with a kiss on your forehead.

your eyes were glossy from the immense pleasure you felt with him just being buried to the hilt. the stretch was perfect, he filled you up perfectly without causing any pain.

after a moment of panting and moans, jake started to rock his hips, thrusting into you slowly. he wasn't sure how long he'd last with you being so perfect for him in every way.

"holy fuck..." he closed his eyes for a moment, desperate to keep himself together in favour of your pleasure and comfort. your soft moans and gasps didn't help his case one bit.

you couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, he was bringing you so much euphoria you swore you would explode. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he sped up his movements, pushing as deep as possible. "fuck, jake..."

"so vocal for me" he hummed against your ear, his breath tickling your skin and giving you goosebumps yet again, only heightening the growing pleasure. as he continued to thrust into you, his hand left your waist to grap one or your hands and hold it down against the mattress, fingers intertwining naturally.

a sudden pain shot through his body in result of your nails digging into the skin of his back, altering between scratching and holding on. but the feeling only turned him on more, urging him to pound into you even faster.

"you're doing so well angel, shit" jake knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he was very relieved to feel you squirm and clench around his dick.

"it's so much..." you muttered between moans, your senses were flooded and overwhelmed by now. you swore you could see stars every time you felt his tip push against your cervix, his movements were painfully precise. "i'm close, jake"

you calling his name out so sweetly was music to his ears. he kissed your cheek and spoke in a strained voice yet again, "me too, you gonna come for me princess? hm?"

it was a miracle that you even lasted this long, your adamant nods were only seconds prior to you clamping down on him hard. a mix of a moan and grunt was heard from jake as he let go of your hand to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

with a few more sloppy thrusts, his climax was just behind yours. his hair was tugged and you squeezed your legs tightly as his hips jerked. you were filled up by ropes of his thick seed, making your eyes roll back from the pleasure completely and moan his name like a prayer.

both your bodies were moulded against each other, only disrupted occasionally with your light squirms. jake stroked your hair gently, holding onto you like he was afraid you would disappear. after a few peaceful moments, he carefully pulled out and grabbed a clean tissue to help you clean up.

once you were both under the cover again, he didn't waste any time to pull you against his chest. "i'm here, i won't leave." he whispered sweet reassurances to you, caressing any part of you he could reach. you practically melted into his arms completely, his presence was beyond comforting for your exhausted self.

you muttered against his warm skin quietly, "thank you"

"for what?" he smiled sweetly, even though you couldn't see his face. here you were, thanking him when you had been the one to give him the best experience he could ever ask for.

"taking care of me."

"i would never neglect my baby."

his words were enough to paint a soft smile onto your tired face. it didn't take long for you to drift into a peaceful sleep, especially when you were cuddled up to him so snugly. jake's heart swelled at how cute you looked in his arms. he couldn't ask for more, all he'd wanted was to take care of you and he finally got the chance, he wasn't going to hesitate or be a coward with you ever again.

a/n: so. i just wanted to try out writing smut but this is gonna be my first and last time because WTFF IS THIS LMAO

i'm sticking to smaus i can't write for the life of me

songs for this fic:

tags:@vivimura@s1rawb3rry@who-tf-soddhi@laurradoesloveu@p1hbrook@hoonielvv@nodoubtily@enhamonsterghoul@heebambilee@en-chantedtomeetyou@hsbae@jellyluv4eva@vivissection@beigerin@jwywife@elairah@heekilrvs@jayjw16enxp@lakoya@ijustreallylike2read@annovaz@strawberrynull@abbyeey@celestiai0@enhalxvr@llearlert@raizennloll@rizzmura@sabriochee@sol3chu@fluveriiez@kitty-won07@sucrosxi@kukkurookkoo@mimisxs@darquette@hhyvsstuff@lovelydeliciousfestival@luciathcv@bigwforjay@pshfan0812@lov4hoon@jaerisdiction@kireiinahana@abzyissupersleepy@madslove-enhypen@b3tt7boop@dodot04lover@ki2rins@sugarikiz ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[ventismacchiato]

18 stuck with you — cherry blossoms !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

MORNING AFTER

You wake up, and the remnants of last night’s drinking are still rattling around in your skull. The harsh light streaming through the windows feels like a personal attack, and the dull throb in your temples only adds to the misery. You almost don’t remember everything from the night before. Almost.

The kiss. The sight of Mona kissing Scara. Heizou’s arm around your shoulder. Scara’s eyes, watching. The way you rushed to defend yourself.

You try to roll over, but everything feels off. There's this weight in your chest, a weird, almost sticky feeling in your gut that you can’t shake. The weirdness is because of him.

After dragging yourself into the living room, hoping for a bit of quiet before leaving for breakfast, your eyes find the culprit of your headache. Scara. He’s standing by the door, looking entirely too unaffected by the chaos of last night. The cool indifference he always wears is almost infuriating. You were hoping he’d be feeling just as lost as you. 

You’ve always known Scara was beautiful. It's one of the reasons you hated him. It’s why the jealousy burned so fiercely inside you for all those years. His sharp eyes and how they managed to cut through everything, the way his features seemed too perfect to be real, it always made your stomach twist. It made you question why he had to exist in your orbit at all. 

But now…now, as you watch him, you feel that old jealousy resurfacing. But this time, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels different. 

Maybe it was never jealousy at all. The thought makes your heart skip, and before you know it, you’re staring at him.

Your gaze lingers for too long because all of a sudden he looks back at you. His usual detached expression softens for a split second, and you swear a flicker of something crosses his face. A jolt runs through your spine. Heat floods your face. You can’t help it. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Remember. Be flirty. Show him you don’t hate him.

"Good... good morning," you stammer.

He gives you a strange look. “Morning?” he says, before walking past you.

Thankfully, the others arrive, and the group starts moving toward breakfast, leaving you in the dust. Your eyes flicker back to Scara briefly, but you immediately look away again, hoping your face isn’t burning as much as it feels. Lumine, who must’ve noticed your awkwardness, grabs your arm and pulls you back. 

"Okay, that could’ve gone better," Lumine starts, voice light but teasing, "I thought you liked him? Why were you glaring at him like that?"

You freeze, mortified. “Not so loud!” you hiss, wincing at the noise in your head. “I wasn’t glaring. I was just… staring. I tried being nice.”

Lumine raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Right. Just staring like you wanted to murder him. I thought you were going to flirt?”

You groan internally, the embarrassment already creeping up.

“That was my attempt,” you say weakly.

Venti, trailing behind, chimes in unhelpfully. “You’re hopeless, Yn. How did Xiao’s awkward ass get a man before you did?”

Xiao, walking beside you, frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

Venti flashes a mischievous grin. “I mean, come on. He can barely string a sentence together, and yet, here we are... take some notes, Yn.”

Xiao crosses his arms, scowling, but you roll your eyes, tuning out the back-and-forth. There’s something heavier on your mind.

"I know I’m awkward," you mutter, glancing down at your shoes. "But I don’t think there’s any point in flirting with him. He doesn’t like me, and honestly, I’m just hoping this feeling… goes away."

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look. 

“Even if that were true, there’s no harm in trying,” she points out, her voice gentle but firm. She doesn’t press further, though. Instead, the group continues toward the kitchen, the chatter from the other group filling the silence.

As you enter the kitchen, you scan the room. Mona’s already there, looking completely at ease, her eyes bright and unbothered. It’s a little strange, considering she was absolutely hammered out of her mind last night. You glance at Heizou too and he greets you with a smile, but there's a tiredness in his eyes that makes you pause for a moment. His usual carefree demeanor seems worn.

Because of you.

Before you can speak, a voice pipes up from underneath the table. It’s Yae’s voice, muffled but chipper, and she sounds far too cheerful for the morning after what was a particularly chaotic night. 

Childe, who was sitting from where she popped up shrieks and practically jumps from his chair. “Don’t do that!”

Yae ignores him, her voice still carrying across the room. "Guess what I just heard? Apparently, last night, Scara and Mona kissed!"

You freeze. Your stomach does a strange flip. Your eyes instinctively snap to Mona, who is sitting across from you. Her face pales as she blinks at Yae in confusion. “We what?!” she exclaims, her tone high with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Scara, who’d been silently sipping coffee, seems to shrink into his seat, his usual stoic mask barely holding up under the weight of the accusation. He looks like he wants to disappear into the floor.

“There was no ‘we,’” Scara mutters, his voice sharp with irritation. “She kissed me. I’m not an asshole to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Mona slaps a hand to her forehead, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face flushed crimson.

You thought you were done with this, but hearing it said aloud still manages to send a strange ripple through your chest. You knew the kiss hadn’t meant anything, especially with Scara’s angry words from last night. It stings, even though you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

Your eyes move back to Scara. His usual guarded expression is there, but you can see the frustration beneath it. He’s trying to act unaffected, but it’s clear that he’s anything but. You wonder if that’s how you’ve always made him feel. Unreachable.

But Mona’s outburst fades, and the silence that follows feels heavier than it should. You catch Scara’s eye again, and this time, you don’t look away. Neither does he. For a moment, he raises a brow at you, and you swear his lips curve ever so slightly.

“Well, that drama was short-lived,” Yae says, breaking the tension. “Can we milk it any further, or are we done here? What about you, Heizou?”

Heizou, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, speaks up. “We actually discussed how Yn holds no feelings for me.”

Yae sighs dramatically. “Why did we bring you three here, then?”

Diluc, who’s been quietly watching, finally speaks up. “I’m having a swell time.”

“Fuck, finally,” Yae huffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, whatever. We’ve got another activity, and I’m sure it’ll land you all a place in Paradise.”

“Is this one rigged?” Aether pipes up.

“A little,” Yae grins. “I’ll reveal it at the end. Anyway, we’re doing a Scavenger Hunt! Pairs, but since we’ve got an odd number... Heizou, you’re going solo.”

You wince at that, already guilty for rejecting Heizou’s advances all this time.

“You each get an item to collect. Shells, flowers, rocks, etcetera. Nothing too athletic. Go out and explore, and bring back as much as you can,” Yae continues, casually ignoring the obvious tension.

“But you assigned us flowers,” Scara interrupts, “All the flowers are in the woods.”

“Yes, and?” Yae smiles, unbothered.

“And the woods are up in that mountain,” Scara points out, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You want us to climb that?”

Yae simply smiles.

“I don’t like you,” Scara grumbles.

“I love you, too,” Yae laughs. “Moving on, we’ll meet back before lunchtime! Get going!”

୨୧✧

You get paired with Scaramouche, obviously, but unlike the other times you don’t find yourself too mad about it. You both knew no matter how good or bad you did at the game they’d rig it around you both, so you take your time making your way up the trail. Or what you both assumed to be a trail.

You both stood at the foot of the raging path ahead of you, mentally preparing yourselves to walk up it. Scara digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of gummies.

“I didn’t take you for a sweet tooth,” you murmur.

He scoffs, grabbing your hand with his free one and letting a few fall onto your skin. You try, and fail, to ignore the warmth of his skin upon yours.

“It’s not candy,” he says, walking ahead of you. You stare at the not candy in your palms and then at his retreating back before throwing them back. Anything to help the swirling pit in your stomach.

You don’t talk much. The silence stretches between you, both of you awkward in your own way. You’re searching for something interesting to say, but the words won’t come.

It’s not until you reach a fallen tree that Scara climbs over and reaches a hand out to you.

“Careful,” he says simply.

You take his hand, letting him pull you over, but as you do, your foot catches on a branch. You find yourself pressed against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you moves. He doesn’t pull away until you shift, pulling yourself off him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, already embarrassed, but then his fingers brush against your cheek.

“You’ve got dirt on you,” he says, his tone surprisingly soft. “Walk slowly.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch him walk ahead, hoping the shade of the trees is doing a better job than your body at hiding the blush creeping up your neck.

Eventually, you both come across a small meadow filled with flowers. You kneel down, picking a few, letting the petals twirl in your fingers. You hear a rustling beside you, and when you look up, Scara is crouched next to you, holding a flower in his hand. 

“Here,” he hums, and before you can say anything, he tucks it behind your ear. A gust of wind carries the petals, some of them landing in his hair, and for a moment, the sight takes your breath away.

“I didn’t think sunflowers grew here,” he mutters, pulling the petals from his hair.

“Leave it,” you say, almost breathless. “It’s pretty.”

He stares at you for a long second, his eyes unreadable and a fistful of petals in his hands. He ‘s silent before he lets the petals fall into your hair. “Have them,” he says, his voice low. “They’re like you, anyway.”

You blink, unsure what to say.

“How?” you manage to ask, voice shaking slightly.

Scara eyes you for a beat before answering.

“You follow the sun,” he says, standing up and brushing off his pants. “And people can’t seem to get enough of you.”

He doesn’t look back as he speaks, his gaze fixed ahead. After a beat, he adds, almost offhandedly, “Sunflowers aren’t too bad to look at, either.”

You’re left standing there, watching him walk away, his words hanging in the air like a soft, lingering echo.

Maybe you weren’t a sunflower. Maybe you were a cherry blossom instead. Cherry blossoms fall at five centimeters per second, and you’ve been

falling

…falling

……falling

since the day you met him. Even if there wasn’t any gravity on Earth, you’d probably fall for him eleven times out of ten.

୨୧✧

You both reach the peak, breathless. Neither of you were exactly built for this. “Rock,” you manage to say, sinking onto it before Scara can even respond. The sweat trickling down your neck probably isn’t doing your attempt at flirting any favors.

He sits down beside you, letting the flowers you picked tumble to the ground. The sun filters through the trees, but you still get a decent view of the ocean. You glance to your left. Scara’s staring at it, the wind ruffling his hair.

Your head spins, but you can’t tell if it’s from the lack of oxygen or because of him. “Sorry about your mom,” you say, trying to break the silence. It’s also a way to make up for not checking in on him last night. You never did see if he was okay. You probably should’ve. He chuckles softly, the sound surprising in its warmth.

“Not your fault.” You fall quiet after that, the words you want to say stuck somewhere in your throat. “Just spit it out,” he says, leaning back on the rock, eyes still on the horizon. He always knows when you’re holding back. “If your mom hadn’t paid Mona off, would you have kept dating her?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You expect him to scoff or brush you off, like he usually would. But his answer comes quickly

“It wouldn’t have lasted anyway,” he says, voice low. He picks a flower from your discarded bouquet and twirls it between his fingers. “We weren’t suited for each other. She hated how much I focused on work, and said I was too much. I just wish she’d broken up with me herself, though.” You nod, his words strangely comforting. “Besides,” he adds casually, “All we ever did was have hate sex.” You choke on a surprised laugh, coughing at the suddenness of it. And then…he laughs. Actually fucking laughs. The sound is so rare, you find yourself wanting to drown in it. “Prude,” he teases, watching you with a sly grin. You compose yourself, shooting him a glare. “Not a prude.” “I beg to differ.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Another question bubbles up, one you can’t resist asking. “Was she your first?” He’s silent for a beat, then answers with a firm, “Nope.” “Was she your only?” He glances at you, brows raised. “Why do you care?” Because you like him. Maybe it’s something a little more than that. Something you haven’t dared to admit to yourself yet. The answer is right there on your tongue, but you swallow it down.

 “Just being nosey,” you say, trying to brush it off. “Didn’t think you could pull anyone else.”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “She wasn’t. But after her, I stopped having casual sex.”

You scoff. “But I heard you’ve hooked up with half the industry?”

“What tabloid did you read that in?” he smirks. “You know there’s shit other than sex, right? Or do I need to give you sex ed?”

His words hang in the air, the implication making your cheeks flush with heat. You must’ve looked taken aback, because he doesn’t hesitate to press on.

“Half of them were just blowjobs backstage.”

You choke from his words again.

“God, you are a prude.”

“Shut up,” you muster out before continuing, “Don’t you miss it? I thought you liked…sex?” 

His smirk is there before you even have a chance to respond. “Well, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

You stop, unsure why you even care enough to ask. Well, you were pretty sure. You’d thought he’d just shut you out.

“What, spit it out,” He presses, and you almost want to avoid his gaze, but you can’t.

“Wouldn’t someone like you get...?” you murmur, barely above a whisper, feeling the heat rising in your neck.

He stared at you. Then he shifts, almost as if to tease.

“Do I need to explain to you what self pleasure is? Ever heard of mastur–.”

“Shut up!” You cut him off, shoving his shoulder, your heart pounding in your ears. But he just smiles, grins, really. And you can’t help but notice how that smile hits you harder than it should. 

How had you gone so long without seeing it?

By the time you and Scaramouche make it back down, your heads are clearer, and the afternoon sun is already at its peak. Lunchtime. Scanning the scene, you both realize you’ve managed to collect more of the required items than anyone else.

“We got distracted,” Venti mutters, holding up the single, sad shell he and Aether managed to gather.

“It’s no matter,” Yae waves him off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “This whole thing was rigged anyway.”

Lumine, ever observant, scans the group. “Aren’t we missing a few people?”

“Oh right, I completely forgot,” Yae laughs lightly, tapping her chin. “Heizou and Mona took off while you were all busy with the game.”

You’re a little taken aback by the news. You’d been hoping to talk to Heizou again before he left, but now... you’re not so sure. Maybe it’s better left unsaid. You’ve probably hurt him enough as it is.

Scaramouche’s reaction to his ex leaving couldn’t be more different.

“Thank the Archons,” he mutters, clasping his hands together in exaggerated relief, causing Kazuha to shoot him a bemused side-eye.

“Anyway,” Yae interrupts, snapping the group’s attention back to her, “Back to the show. Let’s see the results.” She glances around at the gathered group, raising an eyebrow. “Good grief, did any of you actually try? The one couple we rigged was the one that won.”

Xiao speaks up dryly. “You told us to collect rocks.”

“Yeah, and those,” Yae hums, tapping her chin and gesturing toward the small pebbles in Kazuha’s palms, “Are definitely not rocks. Never mind that, though.” She raises her voice slightly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “The pair who collected the least will be spending the night on this island, while the rest of you get to go to Paradise.”

She feigns a gasp, dramatically sweeping her gaze across the group. “Congratulations to everyone except Scaramouche and Yn! You two will be spending the night here on this hell island, while the rest of us head to Paradise... including the crew!”

The others around you celebrate, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

Tonight, everyone will be gone.

And it will just be you and him.

Alone.

[00:00:00] GOODBYE INTERVIEW ONE 

YAE: So, how does it feel to go home empty handed?

HEIZOU: Honestly, I got the closure I needed.

YAE: But not the lover you wanted?

JEAN: YAE!

YAE: Sorry, sorry!

HEIZOU: [LAUGHS] It’s alright. I get it. But yeah. 

YAE: Anything you would’ve done differently?

HEIZOU: [QUIET FOR A FEW MOMENTS] Probably have gotten to know Yn a bit more. I would’ve saved a lot of money on snacks they didn’t actually like.

YAE: What a gentleman! Great send off. We’ll miss you, Heizou!

HEIZOU: [SMILES] I’m sure you will, bye.

YAE: And cut!

[00:32:10] GOODBYE INTERVIEW TWO 

YAE: So…how are we feeling girl?

MONA: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS LET ME GET SHITFACED ON TV!

YAE: [LAUGHS] It made for great television, how are you feeling?

MONA: So embarrassed. But I’m glad I came and put on a show. Any publicity is good publicity.

YAE: And what about the ex you left on that island? Any regrets about him?

MONA: Oh believe me, a lot. But, I shall just carry on with my life! I’ve embarrassed myself enough on this hell island.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Fair enough. Any jealous feelings towards anyone else on the island?

MONA: [ROLLS EYES] You know what you’re doing. I’ve lost enough fans from trying to kiss Scara. I’ll say no comment.

YAE: Well, I tried folks. Goodbye, Mona!

MONA: Mwah!

YAE: CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

me googling where sunflowers and cherry blossoms grow and then realizing it isn’t that deep so just pretend for me okay thanks

scara taking an edible to try and flirt he’s so real

peep the lyrics in scaras story like YN OPEN UR EYES but yeah at this point yn is coming to realize scara might like them back 🤭

kinda insecure about this chapter so pls lmk if u liked 😣 pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — i’ve gotten like 8 hours of sleep in total last week i’m lowk goin thru it guys i hate college 😭 pls send me asks about swy or anything i need motivation i’m bashing my head into da wall as we speak

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[morganakang444]

𝑑𝘰𝑛‘𝘵 ℎ𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 || 𝑙𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔 (𝑝𝘵 1) ౨ৎ

꒰ ꒱ྀི lee heeseung x fem!reader

☆゙ ↳ main masterlist

☆゙ ↳ prev | next

☆゙ ↳ synopsis: you don‘t want me? fine. the two of us can play that game.

the heartthrob of the campus had finally set his eyes on y/n. she was going to be his next victim, to fall for him and assume she can fix him moments before she finds herself ghosted. but y/n knew all too well…too bad she only captures heeseung‘s heart after beating him at his own game. that’s when she learns: don’t hate the player. hate the game.

☆゙ ↳ wc: 6741

☆゙ ↳ genre/warnings: a lil bit smutty, kinda fluff (?) cursing, sexual harassment (not from heeseung), heeseung tries to touch up reader, pining, fuckboy heeseung, y/n is a virgin, a few typos…if i missed anything pls lmk!!

"okay, okay, we‘ve had monica, brittany, and mina this week alone, yeah?" karina snickers, jotting down the names of lee heeseung‘s newest side quests.

the two best friends, karina and y/n, were huddled together in their university classroom (sitting the furthest away from everybody of course), as if they were little high schoolers gossiping about who kissed who.

however, what they were doing wasn’t far from immature, childish gossip. here, they were strategizing who lee heeseung—the school‘s fuckboy—would go for next. it was like a fun little game to the girls, the excitement of seeing how right their guesses could get making them giggle every time.

although it was only the beginning of sophomore year in uni, mr. fboy heeseung had already had his way with nearly half the school, so y/n and karina knew their time would come soon. the only difference between them being karina was open to a night with heeseung. no strings attached, of course. it’s been a month since her messy breakup with her former girlfriend yunjin, and she knew heeseung was the only person who‘d give her a good night with no feelings, guaranteed.

then there was y/n. not to say she’s "not like everyone else," she does find heeseung attractive and well, a little charming—she hates the idea of being with anyone "no strings attached." and heeseung‘s version of adding strings to his puppet was dating them for a week after hooking up before inevitably ghosting them. and unfortunately for y/n, that wasn’t enough.

y/n nods at karina‘s question, holding up three fingers to represent each of heeseung‘s playthings.

"and how about abby? the blonde one with big boobs? classic bimbo," y/n inquiries quietly, "have they gotten together yet?" karina lets out a noise similar to a "pfft" before nodding her head, answering. "a few times, actually. he really likes her.." karina trails off, shaking her head.

"i just…don‘t know who else.." y/n trails off, biting her thumb in thought. "bianca martinez?" karina nods.

"yeji?" karina nods once more.

"damn—minji?" and again, karina nods.

y/n lightly palms her face in disbelief.

"i guess this one will be a surprise, hm?" jokes karina, a playful smile lingering on her lips.

y/n sighs, defeated. "guess so."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

"remember, guys! tutoring begins 3pm today! if you‘re late then your extra credit points are docked!" spoke mr. glenn as class ended, reminding y/n of her duty she needed to fulfill later on today as a top student. with a groan, she stood up and grabbed her baby pink bag, lightly slinging it over her shoulder.

"oh you‘ll be having fun teaching those dumbasses.." teased karina, tickling y/n‘s side with a grin as the two girls exited class together.

"ugh, i know.." laughed y/n as karina tickled her. "i‘m gonna be stuck here for two whole hours kari.." y/n whined, pouting as she leaned her head on karina‘s shoulder, walking towards their dorm room.

"you‘ll be okay, i‘ll buy you lots of food after, hm?" karina said as she stroked y/n‘s hair, feeling her head nod against her.

a couple hours later, y/n arrived inside mr. glenn‘s dim-lit classroom, ready (but annoyed) to teach a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls who are falling behind.

coming in with a fake smile, y/n shot mr. glenn a small wave as she strutted inside the classroom confidently, sitting down at the table sectioned off to help students with english. pulling out her phone, she laid her head down, scrolling through tiktok to pass time before students came in.

and just as she predicted, a student was already approaching her table for help.

"hey, beautiful.." spoke an almost familiar voice, tone sultry and flirtatious. "wanna help me get this english grade up?"

y/n looked up from her phone to meet eyes with the boy who was seemingly so eager to get his english grade up. but when y/n saw him, her breath slightly hitched and she had to clear her throat to regain her faintly lost composure. because being face to face with lee heeseung was not what she expected.

"um..heeseung.." y/n spoke hesitantly, grabbing her english textbook. swallowing, her elegant hands flipped page through page, trying to find the section they last left on in class.

"do you need help with what we‘ve recently been doing?" y/n asked, trying to ignore that sensual expression heeseung wore on his face.

"sure." heeseung shrugs. "i haven‘t been doing much in class…" he trails off, grabbing the textbook from y/n, his soft, pale hands brushing against hers.

y/n refused to show any reaction to heeseung‘s touch, which he took note of. poor y/n, she has no idea heeseung likes a challenge.

"well i can guide you through the notes we‘ve been taking this week on literary theory and textual interpretation. it sounds pretty difficult but i can guarantee you it’s easy." y/n‘s voice remained fairly monotone and pretty professional, heeseung‘s charm starting to wear off on her. that shyness from a minute ago was no longer present.

y/n grabbed her english notebook from her bag, opening it to a page filled with notes. heeseung scoffs as y/n opens her mouth to speak, interrupting her.

"oh, you‘re cute.." he smirks, laying his hands on her page of notes, tapping up and down with his finger.

"i didn’t want you to actually teach me, my dear." his voice lowers to that of a whisper. "i have a proposal." his lips curl up into a smile in contrast to y/n‘s frown.

"which is..?" y/n questions, her tone a bit irritated. she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

"you do my work…and i‘ll pay you." heeseung speaks confidently.

"how much are we talking?" y/n asks, seemingly annoyed. but that doesn’t break heeseung‘s cocky demeanor.

"oh i‘m not talking about money, love.."

y/n can only roll her eyes at his suggestion, already knowing where this would go.

"i‘ll fuck you for every assignment you do, hm? whatever you want. there‘s nothing i haven‘t done, afterall." he slightly bites his lip, leaning back in his seat, now manspreading.

"and that’s exactly why i won‘t take up that offer…" y/n‘s voice holds a note of offense. "glad to know that’s what you think of me…" y/n rolls her eyes, completely finished putting up with heeseung‘s attitude, starting to pack her stuff up.

"oh, come on, baby. i‘m not saying you‘re a slut—i can tell you‘re a virgin. you‘re so uptight." heeseung gestures his hands towards himself. "i‘m offering you something over half the girls on campus would die for."

"heeseung, you don’t even know my name." y/n retorts, standing up to leave.

"y/n!! leaving so soon?" mr. glenn calls out, noticing y/n ready to leave.

y/n nods, telling mr. glenn she has an emergency at home. but before she walks off, heeseung grabs her wrist gently, but firm enough to turn her around, her eyes locked on his.

with a smirk heeseung says, "now i do, y/n."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

with a groan, y/n slams shut her dorm room door, back pressed against it as she let out a frustrated sigh.

"damn, they really got you so bad you had to leave early, hm?" karina teases, putting down her phone and sitting up on her purple sheeted bed.

y/n hangs her head down, a vexed smile on her face as she let out a breathy laugh, making a piece of her hair fly slightly forward. she shot karina a knowing look.

"you won‘t fucking believe who the hell i had to tutor for like—five minutes today…"

y/n threw herself down on karina‘s bed, right next to the raven-haired girl.

"who?? oh my god — was it that one guy who practically stalked you last year?" karina lets out an unbelieved laugh.

y/n shakes her head. "no..this guy was somehow almost worse." she scoots ever so slightly closer. "lee fucking heeseung.." y/n snorts as she laughs, covering her giggles with her hands as karina mimics, both of the girls laughing in disbelief.

"no way! i doubt there was much tutoring going on…" karina says behind her hand that slightly muffled her words.

y/n shakes her head. "yeah. for lack of a better word at i least 'tutored' heeseung."

y/n sits up, holding air quotes around the word tutored.

"did he say anything? like…" karina lowers her voice to a whisper as if there were other people around. "does he wanna fuck you?"

y/n‘s eyes widen and she lets out a small gasp, slightly taken aback by the question her brown-eyed best friend asked her. but she quickly fixes herself, answering, "yeah. he offered to dick me down if i did his assignments…" y/n tossed herself back-down on karina‘s soft bed, laying flat as she looked up to the blank, white ceiling, eyeing the spinning fan.

"sooo..? did you take up the offer?" karina asks with the most curious tone, laying down indirectly on top of her best friend in order to pry an answer out.

"nooo.." y/n spoke shyly. "i don’t wanna lose my virginity to an asshole fuckboy." y/n scrunches her nose, disgusted at the idea.

"well if you won’t take him…" karina then slowly pointed to herself, suggesting that she should get a piece of hee.

y/n pushes karina‘s shoulder, causing the pale woman to fall on her back. y/n sits up. "no, karina. you need to get back with yunjin…you guys broke up for a stupid ass reason. she needs to realise you weren‘t flirting with another girl, and move on. with you…"

karina slowly moves her eyes down in the direction of her phone before she picks it up, hand grasping her silver case.

"about that…" karina‘s face shows mischief before showing y/n messages between karina and yunjin.

yunjin: i miss u, rina 🙁🙁 so much.

karina: yunjin, you broke up with me, if you want me back so bad you have me…

yunjin: maybe i do. but what you did wasn’t ok, rina. i hate that stupid bitch heather and you still spoke to her

karina: baby pls…i‘ll do anything to make it up to you, i am so so sorry..

yunjin: then let me come over tonight. then maybe you could show me how sorry you really are.

karina: fine…does around 9 work?

yunjin: yeah. get y/n out of there tho. i wanna be alone.

"oh my god…rina..!" y/n said, a bit shocked. "she misses you! this is good!"

karina curls her lips up a bit. "either that or she wants some pussy tonight."

y/n playfully rolls her eyes. "which you‘ll glady give her, i assume?"

karina hesitantly nods, a smile falling from her lips.

"well, i guess i‘ll be going out tonight.." y/n gets up, going towards her vanity to take her hair out of its pink claw clip, running her cream colour brush through her soft locks.

"maybe you could help out heeseung, hm?" karina goaded y/n.

y/n turned to karina with an unamused look, still brushing her hair. "never. i have better things i could do…" y/n trailed off, her expression softening when she realises that was a total lie. she really put her academics over everything, and outside of karina had a social life of almost zero.

"we both know that’s not true, y/n," spoke karina as if she were reading y/n‘s mind.

karina scoots, now sitting on the edge of her bed. "come on, y/n—you don’t have to fuck him, but you can fuck around with him, right? it‘ll be fun!"

y/n thinks for a moment, considering karina‘s words. "but i‘m not seductive—i wouldn’t know what to do! i can’t flirt.." y/n covers her face slightly, brush still in hand.

karina snickers. "y/n, he‘s already come onto you and gotten a piece of your attitude. if he didn’t want you, would he have approached you? think about it! you don’t have to be some master of seduction to woo heeseung."

y/n removed her hands, knowing deep down karina was right.

"but…i don’t know…how do i do something like that?"

"easy." karina smirks. "remember what i did to that guy dylan?"

y/n nods, intrigued. "lead heeseung on?"

"similar to that. tonight, you head over to his dorm—look cute but not too cute to where he knows you put in that effort for him. tell him that you‘re going to take him up on his offer, come inside and do some work." karina stands up, getting really into describing her plan. "let him tease you; get bold, tease him back…let him touch you, make you feel good, but only! only you get to feel good. as soon as he thinks he‘s getting what he wants…you‘re going to get up and leave, hm? he‘ll be wondering what the hell happened…and he‘ll yearn for you evermore." karina shrugs. "the rest is up to you."

god, y/n wondered why she was suddenly so excited.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

after contacting a mutual friend she and heeseung shared, karina was able to track down where heeseung‘s dorm was, making y/n realise just how real this happening all is.

and so with a five minute walk, y/n had her hair down and pin straight, wearing a matching baby pink, tightly knit matching set, hugging her body just right, her hips swaying so perfectly as she strutted down heeseung‘s hallway in her little ugg slides. with a tiny knock on his door, y/n took little breaths to calm her nerves. *you‘re not going all the way…* she had to remember.

after a small moment, y/n was greeted with heeseung‘s delicate face, a flirtatious smile forming on his lips as his eyes wandered over her.

"so you did want to see me afterall, y/n.." heeseung gazed at y/n‘s beautiful face, she was so stunning even without makeup…just curled lashes and clear lip gloss was all she needed to sparkle.

heeseung leaned against his doorway, his biceps flexed against the frame as he gestured y/n to come in.

without reacting to any of heeseung‘s words, y/n came into heeseung‘s dorm, surprised he was alone and without his friends or a hookup laying in his bed.

she stood near his desk as heeseung strode over to her, sitting at the chair paired with his desk.

"sorry, love…i have no extra chairs." heeseung sighs in mock apology.

"it‘s okay, i‘ll just stand," y/n politely smiles, placing her off-white shoulder bag on his desk, pulling out homework material.

heeseungs tsks, gently placing his hands on y/n‘s hips, gartering her attention.

"or you could always just sit on my lap.." heeseung toyed with the hem of y/n‘s pants, but she quickly smacked his veiny hand away.

"i‘m good." she gave a smug grin when she saw heeseung‘s slightly taken aback expression. he let out a small sigh, clearly growing frustrated.

"you‘re so uptight, you know that?" heeseung leaned back, his tone not angry but teasing.

y/n turned her body to face herseung. "oh yeah?" she placed a hand on her hip with a raised brow.

"yeah. you should relax. don’t you have a vibrator or something? i heard that can help…" he snickers at her shocked reaction.

"i don’t use those things—you‘re so crude!"

"ah..so your hands aren’t doing the job right?"

y/n feels her face heat up, blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"what i do isn’t your business, heeseung."

y/n‘s voice was firm, arms now crossed.

heeseung held up his hands in a surrendering motion, his legs much more visible to show off his manspread.

"you‘re right, you‘re right. i‘m just trying to offer my word of advice to a woman in need.."

y/n rolls her eyes. "i‘m here to teach you, heeseung! keep this up and you won’t get anything." she bends down so she is eye-level with the black haired boy, her eyes meeting his clearly turned on gaze. her voice was brash, and authoritative, her finger pointing at heeseung, her acrylic fingernail poking his solid chest every few words.

heeseung slightly bit his lip once he caught a glimpse down y/n‘s tight little jacket, her cleavage in perfect view. heeseung could only swallow, trying to not make it super obvious where his eyes were locked.

and lucky for him, y/n didn’t seem to notice as she stood back up, towering over heeseung‘s sitting figure.

"sit on my lap and i‘ll be good, hm? i‘ll leave you alone my dear y/n.." heeseung speaks quietly, gently patting his thigh.

y/n hesitates, thinking about karina‘s words—to just tease…make yourself feel good, then leave when he thinks he‘s getting something…

with those words in mind, y/n slowly lowers her round ass onto heeseung‘s thigh, sitting sideways on his lap. his hands immediately gripped y/n‘s waist, slowly caressing her slim sides up and down, fingertips ever so slightly reaching under her little jacket, gliding over her soft, bear skin. she shivered, the foreign feeling of his hands on her ignited something small within her. but she shakes any thoughts of pleasure out from her head, pulling out homework material from her bag, flipping through annotated packets and mindlessly organising them, just trying to distract herself from heeseung‘s hands trailing further up her torso.

"you almost done..?" heeseung asks quietly, his warm breath against y/n as he moved her hair away from her neck, whispering against the soft skin. y/n quivered, letting go of the packets she held. y/n nodded, clearing her throat as she adjusted herself on heeseung‘s lap. she heard a low groan fall from his lips, and she spun her head around with a small gasp, not believing what her ears just heard.

"did you just…?"

"yeah..sorry.." heeseung faintly whispered, sounding like he was holding something back. "that felt nice.." heeseung squeezed y/n‘s sides placidly, like he was giving her a massage.

y/n blinked in response for a moment before she practically scoffed, her assertive facade coming back to her. "fucking horndog…" she whispers, looking heeseung up and down like he was a vermon.

heeseung‘s grip tightened, groping her sides more aggressively in response, sucking in air through his teeth. "yeahhh…just for you, babe." heeseung chuckled breathily to himself.

y/n rolls her eyes, swatting heeseung‘s arm. "and every other girl you make eye contact with. surprised you don’t have an std by now.."

heeseung faintly flinched at y/n‘s little swat, not used to a woman defying him like this. but he didn’t mind. in fact, heeseung likes a chase sometimes.

"it’s called condoms, dude. i don’t go raw on anyone," he lets out that same chuckle from earlier.

"heeseung, i really don’t care," y/n retors, smacking his head with a packet. "now are you going to let me teach you or are you going to touch me all over this whole time?"

heeseung raises a brow, locking eyes with the girl on his lap. "i thought you were doing my assignments for me, babe. remember our deal?"

y/n shakes her head. "i pride myself in my teaching abilities. and i don’t want to fuck you.."

"oh come on, y/n. you‘re almost twenty and you‘re still a virgin…why not lose it?"

"how do you know i‘m a virgin..?" y/n‘s brows furrow in confusion.

"remember earlier in mr. glenn‘s tutoring session? i can just tell. you‘re so fucking uptight."

y/n makes a face similar to disgust. "being an uptight virgin is better than being a chill fucking whore like you."

heeseung only tittered, not offended by y/n‘s remark. "you don’t wanna loosen up?" he pulled y/n closer towards his body.

"not with you…" her voice grows quiet when she feels heeseung‘s arm wrap around her waist, hand snaking down, closer towards her pussy, his fingers trailing the hem of her tight little knit flare leggings that matched her cropped jacket.

her breath hitches as her back is now pressed up against heeseung‘s firm chest, both her legs straddling his left thigh, her ass cheek pressed against his growing erection.

a soft hum leaves y/n‘s lips when heeseung‘s fingers grow braver and dip into y/n‘s pants, middle finger gently pressing down on y/n‘s clit, applying just enough pressure to form a wet patch in y/n‘s panties which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung, a smirk forming on his lips.

"you sure you don’t want my help?" heeseung snickers, his finger sliding down to feel the warm wetness in y/n‘s panties.

but y/n knew she couldn’t give in. y/n was smarter than to cave in to heeseung‘s smart talk and skilled hands. so she suppressed her moan and reluctantly grabbed heeseung‘s wrist, pulling his hand away from her pussy. she stood up and calmly grabbed her bag and packets, turning to face heeseung, who was visibly confused.

y/n could only smirk satisfactory with heeseung‘s reaction to rejection.

"clearly we aren’t on the same page, heeseung. i‘m leaving now—if you really want my help, get those hormones in check. maybe fuck a girl on your roster before seeing me." y/n politely smiles in contrast to her passive aggressive tone. and saying no more, y/n leaves heeseung‘s dorm, leaving him sitting there, absolutely dumbfounded a girl has actually rejected his advances. he watched y/n‘s figure stride away and leave before he ran his fingers through his hair, chuckling quietly to himself.

that was the first time heeseung didn’t get any action with a girl in his place, and the first time a girl seemed to hold zero attraction to him; and the very first time a girl challenged him, and made him want her more. y/n was more of a chase then heeseung thought. luckily for him he was determined, and a fast runner.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

y/n swung open the door to her dormitory, adrenaline rushing through her veins. she looked over at karina‘s bed and spotted the woman laying down with yunjin under the covers, and it was very apparent the two just slept together. she wasn’t taken aback, however. she had already knew the two would be together tonight.

y/n shook karina awake, not caring if she were naked or not. both karina and yunjin awoke, slightly startled at y/n‘s franticness. before either of the lovers could say anything, y/n spoke up.

"i did it! i did it—but there was barely any action, he sat me on his lap and tried touching my pussy but i left before much could happen!" y/n sounded a bit freaked out with a hint of excitement.

"who is she talking about..?" said yunjin groggily, rubbing her wide eyes.

"heeseung.." yawned karina. "y/n, that‘s good! you‘re probably the first girl in a long time to leave him hanging like that. best him at his own game, hm?" karina smiled, leaning up on her elbows.

y/n‘s face scrunches in slight frustration. "i know…but i‘m just..." she throws her bag down on her bed that‘s only a few feet from karina‘s.

"i‘m glad i did it…it was fun…but—i‘m just…" she sits down on her bed, looking at karina and yunjin. "i don’t know what comes next.."

yunjin and karina exchanged glances before karina speaks up. "you know what happens next?" y/n‘s face grows curious. karina continues. "you wait. you wait for him to chase you…and you‘re going to make him fall for you. and once he does…you leave him for good."

yunjin smirks. "damn karina, what‘d he do to you?"

"nothing. we‘re just bored.." karina looks back at yunjin, but there’s a hint of something beyond playfulness in her eyes.

and with that y/n went to sleep that night, unaware of just how much she had lee heeseung wrapped around her finger.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

one week later — psychology class. the only class y/n shared with lee heeseung.

y/n sat in her usual seat, putting down her bag under her feet after pulling out all her materials. she laid her tired head on her hand, analysing her notes from the last lecture.

and there was heeseung who came in early for once. he was always late (if he even decided to show up, that is), but this time he made sure he was there so he could score a spot next to the beautiful girl who left him so empty that night.

y/n was all that consumed heeseung‘s mind this past week. he didn’t want to be one to admit it, but heeseung hated how she had this effect on him all from not giving him what he wanted. his only goal in mind was to make y/n give in and fall in love with him, then run away just as he did to every other girl…because how dare this little tease leave him empty? nobody defies the lee heeseung like that.

it was only a matter of seconds before heeseung‘s eyes landed on his target. seeing y/n‘s beautiful, long hair flowing over her shoulder and her plump lips pouting in concentration, her slim legs crossed, her grey fold over leggings hugging her body perfectly, the little flare at the end hanging over her cute little winter boots that encased her bouncing feet. her little pink tank top form fitted her torso, causing her chest catch heeseung‘s attention immediately, making him think back to when he got that lovely glimpse down her top that night last week.

and with nothing else on his mind, determination set in and heeseung b-lined it towards the seat empty next to y/n, as more people started to fill the room.

y/n was slightly startled when an obstinate heeseung plopped himself down next to her, his eyes narrowed in on y/n‘s alarmed expression.

"missed me?" heeseung smirks, his voice laced with smugness.

"god you scared me…" y/n placed her hand over her heart. "but no, i didn’t miss you, heeseung."

heeseung leans in a bit closer, his big black jacket scrunching. "call me hee. everyone else does."

y/n shakes her head, her face going back to her notes. "i‘m alright, we‘re not close enough for me to give you a nickname."

heeseung scoffs, changing the subject to the point he originally wanted to talk about.

"why did you leave that night?"

y/n held back a smirk at the hint of desperation in heeseung‘s voice. the question alone enough to make her want to giggle in satisfaction.

"you were being unprofessional, heeseung. i was there to help tutor you, not have sex with you." her tone was pretty deadpan in contrast to the excitement growing inside of her at the thought heeseung was currently chasing after her.

"i could have made you feel good," heeseung says as he leans back in his chair, his hand coming up to play with strands of y/n‘s hair.

y/n ignores him, flipping through pages in her notebook.

"you‘re not any different from these other girls, you know…you‘re not special." his voice grew annoyed.

"what?" y/n turned her head to the side, her irritated expression apparent.

heeseung’s facial expression seemed satisfied at how he was getting under y/n‘s skin. "you‘re not special for not wanting me, y/n…" heeseung leans closer, his hand still on y/n‘s head. faces inches apart, heeseung‘s voice held somewhat of a threatening tone. "…because i‘ll make you want me." an intimidating smile played on heeseung‘s face, his eyes full of malice.

y/n slightly backed up, a small amount of real fear stirring in her chest.

"you‘re crazy…" her voice automatically came out a whisper, her eyes darting all around his face.

he leaned in and quickly pecked y/n‘s cheeks with his lips, his expression now softened, almost affectionate.

"only for you…" and as the psychology teacher mrs. danbury walked in, heeseung settled down along with the rest of the class, acting as if nothing happened.

y/n stayed taken a bit aback, her mind wandering off from the lesson every so often, thinking off heeseung‘s words.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

as class came to an end, heeseung stood up, standing next to y/n‘s sitting figure, and as she rose to walk out of the classroom, she was abruptly stopped by heeseung‘s tall body standing in front of her.

she didn’t need to speak. her confused face was all heeseung needed to start explaining.

"let me take you out." heeseung‘s voice was smooth.

"um…where?" y/n crossed her arms.

"there’s a little café down the street, hm? wanna go there?"

y/n thought for a moment, realising she could use this as an attempt for heeseung to truly fall for her.

"i mean…i am kinda hungry i guess." y/n shrugs, walking passed heeseung. "let’s go."

heeseung grabs y/n‘s wrist, forcing her to come back. he interlocked his fingers with hers, then continued walking.

"people are going to think we‘re a thing if you’re holding my hand…" y/n‘s eyes darted from their intertwined hands then up to heeseung, who only smirked.

"if we‘re together in general people are going to think we‘re a thing." he smirked down at the girl walking with him.

y/n rolled her eyes, "that’s not exactly what i want…i can‘t be seen as one of your little rotations."

heeseung put on a playfully hurt expression.

"that’s really all you think of me, huh? just some fuckboy?"

y/n nodded. "pretty much!" she shot him a soft smile, feigning affection.

heeseung only snickered in response, but when his own umber eyes looked into y/n‘s he couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was as the sun beamed down on her skin.

entering the café, y/n took note of the strong smell of sweets and coffee blending together in the air, the other university students sitting inside studying under the dimly lit lights, creating a cozy atmosphere, perfect for a break after a day of long, draining university classes.

"this place is so cute…" y/n looked around at the wood panel walls, the faux candles lit all around and the large bookshelf next to the entryway, adding to the library-esq vibe of the café.

heeseung smiled at y/n‘s reaction, her look of awe causing him to feel a small little butterfly in his stomach, but he quickly swatted it away.

"you‘re paying, you invited me out." y/n points at heeseung as she walked up to the register to order, him trailing not too far behind.

"yes, ma‘am," heeseung teased, pulling out his wallet.

"can i have a caramel frappuccino with tapioca pearls, please?" y/n asked in her sweet voice—sounding just like honey.

"i‘ll just have a taro milk tea." said heeseung as he pulled out his credit card.

the cashier said dryly, "that‘ll be $13.85."

and as heeseung inserted his card, y/n slyly peaked over to get a good look at it, which didn’t go unnoticed by heeseung. he just let out a confused laugh. "what‘re you lookin‘ at?"

"your credit card number," replied y/n truthfully. "you said it was your goal to make me like you, and gift giving is my love language." y/n closed her eyes, placing her hands on her chest as she softly swayed her body side to side.

heeseung gently nudged y/n. "yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself."

and as their boba was ready, y/n quickly grabbed her drink, placed the baby blue straw inside and immediately took a sip, reveling in the sweet, caramel flavour going down her throat. with a satisfied mmm sound, she started walking towards the door, leaving heeseung in a state of confusion.

"where are you going?" heeseung questioned, his brow slightly raised.

"i‘m going back to the dorm. you took me out like you wanted." y/n shrugged slightly.

"you know i‘m getting real tired of asking you that." heeseung smirked, sipping his tea.

y/n only smiled facetiously. "then give me a reason to stay." and with nothing else, y/n walked out, leaving heeseung once more dumbfounded.

and heeseung didn’t like this pattern he saw forming.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

y/n didn’t walk back to her dorm, though. she was going to hang out with karina at the mall. pulling out her baby pink iphone, y/n clicked karina‘s contact to come ask her to pick her up.

"where you at hoe?" joked y/n as soon as karina picked up.

karina laughed. "at yunjin‘s dorm. i‘m leaving now. where are you?" y/n could hear rustling on the other end.

"near that little café by school—i think it’s called makoko." y/n paused to look at the street name. "i‘m working the corner of rochester street. come pick me up when i‘m done with my next client."

karina playfully rolled her eyes at y/n‘s joke, her car‘s startup engine roaring in the background. "i‘ll be there soon. split some of that cash with me, hm?"

"of course. love ya!" y/n blew a kiss to her phone and karina reciprocated.

opening up instagram to kill time, y/n stood, leaning against the wall of a building while she waited for her best friend.

scrolling mindlessly, mind lost in the depths of liking her favourite celebrities‘ posts and judging her mutuals stories, she hardly noticed a tall male figure approach her rather menacingly.

"all alone?" the deep voice startled y/n, his tone callousing and scary. y/n slightly jumped back, her eyes suspiciously scanning the man up and down. but y/n doesn’t play with scary men like this.

"no, i‘m with somebody. your scary ass can leave now." she spoke sternly, taking slow backwards steps away from the dark haired man.

"i don’t see no one," the man smirked his big lips, a look of lust shining through his eyes as he stepped intimidatingly closer to y/n, following her.

"fuck off nasty ass hoe i don’t know who you think you are because i will rock your shit if you try something!" warned y/n with a fist forming, holding it up in the air like she was going to pop him in his face.

but before the creepy man could vocalise his thoughts, another male came up from behind him and punched the side of his head, making him stumble over, a gasp of shock leaving y/n‘s mouth upon seeing not only the violent action—but the person assaulting the creep—who was…heeseung?

"heeseung wh—" y/n was going to ask him why he was here, why he was defending her—but was overpowered by his aggressive shouting at the big, now less taunting man who was harassing her only moments ago.

"who the fuck do you think you are, hm!?" hesseung yells through gritted teeth, blowing punch after punch, blow after blow onto the man who was laying on the ground, his arms over his face in a defensive manner.

"keep your hands off her and your fucking mouth shut!" heeseung was practically seething at this point, his fists nowhere but the man‘s now bloody face.

y/n wasn’t going to tell heeseung to back off the man—if anything the man deserved it. so she watched from the sidelines, patiently observing, waiting for heeseung to finish.

and for a few more moments, after punching and kicking heeseung spat on the man‘s face as if he were a flithy vermon (which in any sane person‘s mind, including heeseung, that’s what he was equivalent to.)

heeseung marched towards y/n, his face still appearing angry. he aggressively gripped

y/n‘s wrist, yanking her, forcing her to follow heeseung from behind as he angrily started walking.

"in broad fucking daylight, is he insane?"

heeseung scoffed, talking mainly to himself, but y/n could hear.

"heeseung where are you taking me?" she slightly winced at the tight grip he held on her wrist.

"back to your dorm. where i thought you were going." heeseung‘s voice was practically a growl.

"heeseung—i have a ride i was waiting for to go to the mall. i can handle myself." y/n says as she tries to yank her wrist away from heeseung, but his grip only grew tighter.

"clearly you can’t. i wonder what would have happened to you if i hadn’t stepped in, hm?"

y/n only rolls her eyes in disbelief at heeseung‘s words.

"now give me your phone." heeseung holds out his hand towards y/n, still not looking at her.

"why?" she questions, visibly hesitant.

"just—just give it to me. or i‘ll take it myself." there was no indication heeseung was kidding in his tone. so y/n handed the boy in the grey hoodie her phone after opening it, and he went straight to her calls. he clicked on someone’s name before speaking,

"karina?" his tone stayed firm. "yeah, it’s heeseung. look, you‘re the one giving y/n a ride, yeah?" he paused, letting karina respond. "‘kay. i‘m taking y/n to that park not too far from campus. the one everyone hangs out at—pick her up there. something happened she can explain to you later." and without another word, heeseung hung up before opening y/n‘s contacts, adding a number. he handed y/n back her phone, open on the page of the brand new contact.

"my number," he spoke, tone softening slightly. "just to call or text me if anything else like this happens.." heeseung‘s voice held a hint of what y/n could be mistaking as affection…but there was a little bit of something other than coldness. almost like his reasoning was some excuse. she only nodded, murmuring a thank you as they arrived at the park everyone usually hangs out, called "the hill."

heeseung sat down on a cold, metal bench, y/n sitting close to him.

he immediately cupped y/n‘s face, tilting her head in every direction possible, eyes narrowing in on her soft features like he was analysing her. before y/n could protest, he asked, "are you okay? if he laid as much as a single finger on you, y/n, i‘m promising you i‘ll go back there and kill him with my bare hands."

y/n shook her head, a bit taken aback by heeseung‘s sudden protectiveness. her dainty hands stayed with a silent grip on heeseung‘s wrists that softly held her face.

"you should have let me take you home—i should have offered…i‘m so sorry, y/n…" heeseung adverted his gaze from the girl, guilt oozing from his voice.

"it’s alright, really," y/n started with a calm voice, her thumbs rubbing soft, soothing circles on the inside of heeseung‘s wrists, "nothing happened to me." she put on a soft, comforting smile, but it quickly faded when heeseung snapped.

"because i stepped in! y/n who knows what that guy was planning!?" he takes a deep breath to calm himself, voice struggling to stay steady. "what if he hurt you, hm? i don’t…i don’t want that to happen to you." his gaze lingered on y/n, his thumbs caressing the sides of y/n‘s face he was still holding.

"since when have you…" y/n pauses, trying to find the right words. "since when have you cared like that? about anyone?"

heeseung scoffed, his tone coming out offended. "just because i like to fuck around doesn’t make me a bad person, y/n—i would have stepped in and saved any girl that was happening to." his dark brown eyes lock with y/n‘s as if he was searching for something in the pools of her irises. "but you‘re the first girl i‘d go to this length for. the first one i have gone to this length for…if you were anyone else i would have just walked away as soon as i pulled that guy off you."

"why?" was all the stunned girl could manage to get out, her brows furrowed in more curiosity than confusion.

"there’s something about you, i‘ll admit. like a magnet that pulls me in. partly because you left me hanging last week—but just…" heeseung sighs. "the way you don’t want me—it makes me want you even more."

y/n simply laughs. "is this why you‘re being so nice to me?"

heeseung nodded.

"it’s a nice try, heeseung. but you‘re going to have to try a lot harder than give me some speech you‘ve given all your other flings."

and as if she were saved by the bell, y/n saw karina‘s little white toyota pull up to the car, a small honk coming from the vehicle catching both heeseung‘s and y/n‘s attention. she removed heeseung‘s wrists from her face and stood up.

"where are you going?" heeseung wondered, a hint of what almost seemed like panic laced in his voice.

"that really is all you ask me, huh?" y/n teased before walking off towards karina‘s car.

and with another sigh, heeseung slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and slid down the bench so his neck was resting on the edge as he looked up to the blue sky.

it had only been a week since they met and this damn girl already had him wrapped around her finger.

what‘s wrong with him?

[shybluebirdninja]

Bite-Sized Betrayal

Summary: When Logan realizes your blowjob is too good to be a “first-timer” move, he launches a full-blown “detective mission,” trying to uncover the truth of your “so-called innocence.”

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader

Note                : Fluff, suggestive themes

Logan’s jealousy is always kinda… cute. For a guy who’s survived literal wars, he’s got no clue how to handle feelings that aren’t anger or fighting. And now? Oh, you had him in a real mood.

It all started when you decided to surprise him with a little something extra. Y’know, testing out that thing you read about online. A blowjob. Logan being your first—and let’s be real, only—boyfriend, you thought you were doing okay. More than okay, apparently, because halfway through, he completely froze.

“Whoa, whoa, babe,” Logan said, pulling back with a hand on your shoulder, eyes narrowed. “That was a little too good.”

You sat there, blinking up at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Uh… thanks?”

But he wasn’t letting it go. The Wolverine squinted at you like he was analyzing every moment of your past life. “No way you’re that good at this without practice.”

Now, let’s be real here—you know Logan. He’s got this whole rough-and-tough exterior, but the second something doesn’t fit into his perfectly controlled world, he turns into a paranoid mess. And today? That paranoia was locked and loaded.

“Logan…” You started to say, but the man was already up, pacing like he was solving some kinda murder mystery. He ran his hands through his wild hair, muttering something under his breath.

“Who was it?” he suddenly growled, turning to face you like you had just admitted to world domination.

“Who was what?” You blinked, trying so hard not to laugh.

“The guy,” he said, jabbing a finger in your direction. “Who taught ya? Some douchebag in college? Or maybe that asshole at the bar last month—you did talk to him for a bit.”

Now, it’s one thing to have your tough boyfriend jealous, but this? This was next-level ridiculous. You sat back, biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into laughter. “Logan, babe, what are you talking about? You’re literally my first.”

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Don’t gimme that, darlin’. No one’s that good the first time.” He crossed his arms like he was about to grill you with hard evidence. “I’ve been around the block, ya know.”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The laughter came out before you could stop it, making Logan scowl even harder.

“This isn’t funny,” he snapped, pacing again. “I’m serious. I’m startin’ to think you’re hidin’ somethin’.”

“Logan, for the love of—” You wiped away the tears of laughter, finally getting up to stand in front of him. “I’m not hiding anything! You’re my first boyfriend. You know that.”

“Yeah, but that move—” He pointed vaguely toward the couch, still frowning. “That was some professional-level shit.”

You couldn’t stop giggling, and it only made him more irritated. He ran his hand down his face and groaned. “Alright, tell me the truth. You’ve been Googlin’ this stuff, haven’t ya?”

You almost doubled over. “You think I Googled how to give you a blowjob?!”

“Well, I don’t know!” Logan growled, frustration dripping from his voice. “Maybe you did. I’m just sayin’… that was too good to be natural.”

“Logan,” you said through fits of giggles, “I’m not some secret blowjob expert, okay? Maybe I’m just, I don’t know, naturally talented?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly still unconvinced. “Nah. Somethin’ doesn’t add up here.”

You threw your hands up, finally losing your patience. “Okay, so what are you gonna do, Sherlock? You gonna interrogate every guy I’ve ever spoken to? ‘Hey, did she happen to give you a blowjob once upon a time?’”

Logan actually looked like he was considering it for a second, and you lost it all over again. This man, this absolute idiot, was serious.

He huffed, crossing his arms again like he’d already decided on his next move. “Look, babe, I just don’t like not knowin’ things, alright?”

“Oh my God, you’re jealous because I’m good at blowjobs. That’s what this is about.”

Logan’s cheeks actually flushed. He muttered something about it “not being like that,” but you knew better. This was the same guy who once picked a fight with someone for glancing at you in a diner. Of course, he was jealous.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Logan sighed. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m a little jealous. I just… don’t want anyone else takin’ credit for somethin’ we’re supposed to figure out together.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “You mean you don’t want anyone else getting the benefits of my natural talent?”

Logan shot you a look but didn’t say anything, clearly trying to figure out how to navigate this weird conversation. Finally, he huffed again. “Alright, fine. But for the record… there’s a right way to do it, and I could show ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back more laughter. “Oh, you’re gonna give me a lesson now?”

He nodded, dead serious. “Damn straight. Been around long enough to know what works and what don’t. Consider it… proper education.”

[xomakara]

Be Mine [Part 1]

SUMMARY | You’re being stalked and getting creepy and filthy messages from someone named Unknown. Little did you know that person might be closer than you think.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, thriller, random fluff/comedy 

CONTENT/WARNINGS | stalking, creepy and filthy test messages, profanity, mentions of drinking, lots of sexual acts/thoughts, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), public sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms

LENGTH |  14,264 words

TAGLIST |  @heechwe @lovetaroandtaemin

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety @dove-net

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Big, big, thank yous to @unholywriters, @kwanisms, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this. I couldn't have edited this without your help! Big shoutout to @pars-ley for the beautiful banner! I appreciate you all so much! This is different from what I usually write (I know, I said that about a lot of other fics) but thriller is not my forte but I decided to delve into it. I hope you all like it and see you in part 2! 💚

He stood in the shadows, looking up into your window, for the fifth night. Your neighbors were out, their car idling in their driveway, leaving him unobserved. You, too, were unaware of his presence, busy getting fucked, face first in the sheets.

You looked oh so sweet, taking that cock. Taking it again and again while he rubbed his hand down the front of his jeans and wondered if you'd look this sweet taking his own. Your eyes glazed over in lust, face contorted into an expression that would have given any man cause to smile, you had no idea that he was right outside, staring into you.

Not that he planned on fucking you. Not anytime soon. He'd thought about it. Of course. Would you give yourself to him the way you were so easily giving yourself to another?

You had a type. Pretty college boys. Trust fund kids. Cocksure and full of themselves, despite the lack of worldly experience they actually had. Oh, he was handsome, tall and lean, but he wasn't a boy. No. He was a man, all man, and he would fuck you the way you needed to be fucked, the way your inexperienced lovers couldn't hope to.

His gaze never wavered as he pulled his length out from his pants, fisting his already throbbing cock to the sight of your soft skin covered in a sheen of perspiration. His feet scuffled further into the darkness to make certain no passers by were likely to happen along while his thumb grazed along the slit, sending a shock of pleasure up the shaft.

All the while, he thought about how hot and tight and wet your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock, bouncing on top of him, sliding him in and out of your snatch. Wondered what pretty sounds would pass those plump pink lips and if that beautiful gaze would glaze over just as pretty when he pumped his seed deep inside of you.

He watched as your young lover finished off before you had a chance to cum. Watch as he shrugs on his clothes, giving you a small kiss before leaving your apartment. Watch as you laid back in bed, fingers reaching for that favorite dildo of yours, your only companion these days.

A smug satisfaction washed through him as he saw you glancing into the dark corners of your room and through the curtainless window. Even in the dim light of the moon, he knew you didn't see him, your mind having no reason to think you needed to keep the bedroom windows covered, especially now with the tall apartment complex at the front of your building blocking your view.

So, instead, you leaned forward, giving the viewer, whether you knew you had one or not, an ample view as you slid your toy in and out of that warm pussy. So pretty and so sad to do this alone when you could have had a nice strong cock between your legs right at this very moment, replacing your poor toy.

As his balls grew tight and he blew his load, all over the front of the complex, the man promised himself he would visit you soon. Very, very soon.

"Yunho!"

"Oof!" Yunho grunted out as his friend threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and nearly strangling him in the process.

"Geeze, woman!" He grunted out as her petite body continued squeezing his neck, laughing and pulling him closer as she tried to squeeze the life out of him. "You act like you didn't just see me last week."

"Yeah but now you're part of the company!" You gushed happily, pulling back with a brilliant smile plastered across your face. "We have to celebrate. Drinks after work!"

"You think Hongjoong is going to agree to that?" Yunho questioned, though his smile was already spreading, enjoying the way you squealed excitedly and dragged him towards the office the rest of the way.

"Pfftttt. Like Hongjoong even does a lot of work here," you teased, bumping your shoulder lightly into his side before giving him a cheeky grin as you continued your stride into the office and pushed the door open.

"Someone's talking shit," a voice spoke up as soon as they entered the room.

Yunho tilted his head up, laughing as the older man pinned you with a fierce stare. "Don't pretend you don't deserve every word of it."

"Traitor," Hongjoong cursed with a laugh as he leaned his hip on the desk, arms crossing over his chest as he gave him his attention instead. "Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"Who am I to turn down an old friend," he replied honestly, and you quickly turned and bounced onto your feet.

"The real question," you started, sauntering over towards your boss, "is who's paying for the drinks."

Hongjoong cocked a brow at you, smirking as you danced from side to side before him. "I think you should buy drinks for the whole company. Since you seem so insistent."

Your face twisted into a look of mock horror. "Is the almighty Kim Hongjoong, owner, president, and CEO of ATZ Gaming, telling his most beautiful employee to empty her wallet?"

"I thought I was the most beautiful person here?" Another voice chimed in, Seonghwa stepping in, the second and most trusted employee of ATZ Gaming after Hongjoong.

"You are," you cooed at him, not batting an eyelash, "but I have to throw in some extra charm to get what I want."

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to Yunho, clasping his friend on the shoulder in greeting. "What is it you want, little liar?"

"Buy us drinks after work," you sassed, grinning brightly at both the men, turning on them. Seonghwa clucked his tongue and glanced over at Hongjoong. "Hey, don't ask him, I was the victim here," you pleaded, hands flailing out dramatically.

"Are we finally having a party?" Yeosang suddenly peeked his head up over the corner of his computer, hair mussed from his earlier activity. "I have some news that could definitely be celebrated with a drink."

"Yo! Yunho is finally here!" Wooyoung called out loudly from down the hall, legs carrying him faster as he waved excitedly. He looked quite fetching as he came around the bend, dress pants pulling tight over his toned muscles, light blue shirt fitted against his upper body. "Welcome to the madhouse!"

Hongjoong, unable to keep the charade anymore, laughed and clasped a hand on Yunho's shoulder. "When I asked all my friends to join me in this company I started, I did not imagine all of them would act like a bunch of kindergarteners, but what can I expect?"

"You love us!" San and Mingi announced in unison as the two rounded the corner.

Jongho followed shortly after, stretching his back as he joined the rest. "Tell us we don't have anything scheduled, please," Jongho spoke up as he settled into a comfortable seat.

"There was supposed to be a party planned for Yunho today but someone failed in their task."

You rolled your eyes, glaring at your boss. "The lovely Hongjoong hasn't agreed to pay yet."

The office of ATZ Gaming was full of the same individuals from middle school, the same ones he had grown up with and spent more time with than anyone else. Hongjoong was the owner of the company. An IT expert and coder. The man was a genius with all things electronic, and his vision was the game of the year right now. An RPG simulation video game that drew so many of its users that it was slowly creating an empire of its own.

You were hired as the lead writer. After high school and starting university, you'd immediately fluttered into a variety of career options that had suited your style. Advertising, commercial art, animation. Though you always ended up circling back around to game telling and concept art, so when you heard that Hongjoong had quit his job and was striking out on his own, you were one of the first calls he'd made.

When you began writing the storyline for Hongjoong's game, and word started going around how good it was, Seonghwa quickly joined forces, a PR rep in the works, followed by San, whose graphics were lovely, and Wooyoung, a known social media sensation and marketer. And the game was finally taking off.

Yeosang and Mingi came along as programmers after the two had spent nights working and perfecting a gaming system that had completely baffled even Hongjoong. And their reputation followed soon after.

Last, but not least, Jongho. Despite being the youngest of the crew, he'd been an IT prodigy that helped support and maintain their website as the company's traffic exploded, helping to launch their product and set them apart from the others.

Yunho, being the newest hire for their sales and marketing department, was familiar with all of their talents, and would be responsible for marketing their product with an enthusiastic eye that would be a strong addition to their group.

"Of course, I'm happy to take all you dorks out for a drink," Hongjoong pulled his attention, glancing over at everyone and holding a stern finger up. "After you all have finished the reports you were supposed to turn in."

"Boo!" You stuck your tongue out at your boss, huffing out your frustration as you trudged over towards your cubicle and dropped into the chair, head buried into the crook of your arms.

"Cheer up princess," Seonghwa laughed as he swiped up his report, moving over and handing the page over to you. "Have a glance over this before I turn it in."

You groaned louder, head shaking at him as he shrugged.

Yunho simply stood quietly off to the side, watching his friends go through the mundane tasks of their work, yet they all appeared so cheerful and energetic in this atmosphere, constantly teasing and cracking jokes. A wide smile spread across his lips. His fingers were twitching in anticipation of being able to do work for the company, already wanting the day to be over so he could go have that drink with his friends and have some fun.

After three long hours, you finally shuffled out of your chair, grabbing onto Seonghwa's elbow, leaning up against the elder and looking up at him with those huge doe eyes. "I'm hungry and my ass is sore, please tell me we are done for today and can have that drink."

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. "May the princess get drunk this fine Friday?"

You snorted, slapping his chest with a smirk as he grinned and pinched at the end of your cheek.

"Why not? It's Friday, and it will be an evening well spent," Hongjoong smirked, shutting his computer down and shrugging on his leather jacket. "Come on. My treat. As a welcome to the team, Yunho."

He sat in the corner of the bar, watching as you smiled up at your friends and playfully ran your fingers along the chest of an older man in a button-down shirt, the two of you whispering things back and forth. The group was a large one, a rowdy bunch that was currently taking up several tables off to the side. A good amount of them were handsome, all young and athletic. Different than your usual flavor of college boys and nerds.

He watched you and the man share a quiet joke. Watched as the male leaned in to whisper something against the shell of your ear, watched the pretty curve of your mouth part, giggle flitting free at the secret passing between you.

His stomach tightened, not because he was upset, or because he didn't like how he watched as your hand curled into the fabric at the male's waist and tugged at the expensive threads there, but because he imagined it was himself you were whispering to, him whose pants your fingers were digging into, him whose warmth you were stealing away with that pretty little smile.

What were you whispering about? What dirty, naughty little secrets were you whispering? Was it about getting fucked tonight? Hard and thorough. This man looked like he would satisfy you more than those little boys. This man didn't seem shy. Not with the way his hand brushed over your bottom, fingers cupping against the supple skin there for a moment before falling away.

When the hours passed, and the laughter began to dim, the group decided it was time to retire, and the group departed the establishment. He stayed behind. Making sure to keep close to the exit while also blending in. He watched as you and the man walked along the sidewalk, arm tucked under his, your soft giggle wafting in his ear when he bent low and whispered again.

He kept to the shadows as he followed, thankful that the night was cloudy and obscured his view, especially when you stopped walking and tipped your head back, gazing up into the handsome man's face, the two standing close, talking quietly as if they had forgotten the world around them. When the man leaned down and brushed his lips over yours, that's when he truly felt a twist in his stomach, a heavy, sickening roll.

His fists clenched into balls, unable to drag his eyes away from the sight. Your body stiffened at first, unsure, clearly the sudden motion took you by surprise, but when you leaned forward and melted against him, that was when his chest clenched.

When his hand came around your waist and he pulled you forward and dipped his hand down and grabbed the bottom of your ass, it was hard not to grit his teeth.

When the male shoved you against the brick wall of the nearby alley and dragged his lips down along the column of your neck, his eyes flared.

How far were you willing to take it in public? This would cause a scandal, wouldn't it?

Did that make you excited?

Did you want everyone in town to see, to watch, as he bent you over and fucked your little brains out? Or did you just want to get caught, the thrill of potentially being seen.

Did it matter?

As long as that cock got shoved inside of you, as long as the pretty moans escaped your parted lips, then who gave a fuck.

As your knees buckled, and you moaned out as the man's fingers curled under your skirt and sank into the soft flesh between your legs, his feet started to move. When the man hoisted you up and pressed you harder against the wall, and your arms and legs wrapped around him, the sounds of slick and wet mixing as the male's length entered you and pulled back out, his stride picked up speed.

Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have you in his arms, hot and wet and needy and letting him fuck you wherever and whenever the fuck he wanted.

When the male's movements picked up, body thrusting harder and faster between your spread legs, he watched the way you moaned louder and threw your head back against the wall, and he wished it were him taking you, ruining you.

You were enjoying it. Clearly. Enjoying that big dick sliding in and out. Enjoying that full feeling, letting the man claim you as his.

You looked like an absolute angel as he fucked you, a filthy fucking angel, hair tangled over your shoulders, the silk strands clinging to your cheeks as the sweat formed, skin glowing underneath the flickering streetlight overhead.

This man was ruining you. Just the way he would soon ruin you too.

How he longed to have that pink tongue swirl over his own, feel those tits press against his chest, his length snug and buried deep.

Soon.

Very soon.

When you cried out, your orgasm splashed all over his shaft, the male was right there behind you, his hips erratic, chasing after his own high. As he painted the inside of you, cum spilling and dripping down the sides of his dick as you clenched tightly to milk him for everything he had, the man pushed his hips harder against yours.

You had a completely satisfied expression, limp and tired as you came down from that intense moment, the passion that had overcome both of you leaving you entirely spent.

There was a sweet giggle as the man placed a kiss on your lips, a soft murmuring, another sweet peck to your lips, and the two of you stumbled away together, the man holding onto your waist, keeping your spent, stumbling body upright.

His feet had carried him forward when you disappeared, following the wet steps down the darkened alley. That was where he saw it, a pair of pale pink, soaked, cotton panties, hanging over a discarded can.

His hand shot forward and he gripped them, crushing the fabric between his palms and pulling it back with him.

Soon.

He would visit very, very soon.

Seonghwa made his way towards your desk, setting down a steaming cup of your favourite tea. "Okay, princess. Go home."

"I'm almost done with this report. Give me twenty minutes,” you replied, smashing the keyboard.

"Pfft. You said that four hours ago," he scolded, squatting down next to your desk so he was level with you. "Go home. Finish it tomorrow. Come into work late. Sleep in. Whatever will make the princess happy."

"Why is Y/N always getting the special treatment? Hyung, aren't I cute too?" Wooyoung sulked, tugging on his collar and pouting his plump lips. "Tell me you love me more."

"Back off, lover boy," you grumbled, sipping at the tea he'd brought over, moaning softly at the delicate flavor. "Hush and mind your own business."

Yunho laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, a soothing motion, urging you to finish your work for the night. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get dinner, if you're down for that."

"I want Seonghwa's undivided love too!" San whined loudly, stepping around Jongho as he shoved his way past Wooyoung and Yeosang. "I want my cute hyung to baby me too."

Seonghwa quickly backed his way into the elevator before the crew ganged up on him.

"I have a date, so I gotta get going," he smiled, lifting his hand and  giving the boys a two-finger salute. "Y/N, have a good night! Everyone else, see you all tomorrow."

You turned to Yunho, a bright smile on your face. "That offer for dinner still on the table?"

"For you, always," Yunho smirked, leaning down and grabbing your purse, placing the strap around his wrist before pulling you into his side with a gentle tug. "How does pizza and a movie sound? You can go to mine, or we can go to yours, whatever works for you."

You didn't notice Wooyoung's raised eyebrow, the slightly quirked up lip as he observed the two of you. "Oh? Something going with you two that we should know about? You've been spending a lot of time together recently."

"Shh," you stuck your tongue out at the teasing male. "Jealous?"

"You're not my type," Wooyoung sassed back, wrapping his hands over the shoulders of Yeosang and Mingi. "You've never been my type."

"Sure, says the guy who had a crush on me in high school," you called out, shoving your keyboard back into place and shoving the papers on your desk aside. You swung your purse over your shoulder, hooking an arm through Yunho's.

"Hey, that was years ago, I've grown. I have better taste," the younger male started with a childish scoff, pulling the other two guys along towards the exit.

Yunho just stood and listened as you waved and stuck your tongue out at Wooyoung, yelling at the rest of your friends a goodnight. You were such an adorable, flirty brat with the others. His smile never waned. It was fun watching the interactions and teasing. His hand curled over yours, pulling you along next to him.

"Seriously, I can have food delivered to my place, or we can head to a drive-thru," he paused and shrugged his jacket off, dropping it over your shoulders, adding an extra layer for warmth. "Which will it be?"

Your fingers dug into the thick fabric as you peered up at him through your lashes, admiring the smile stretched wide and happy across those soft lips. You loved hanging out with Yunho. He was a nice escape from work, and outside the office, it felt more intimate. More personal. Like you were the ones having fun with each other, not work friends just playing around in the comfort of each other's presence.

"Oh my God," you squealed, tugging at his hand excitedly, "are you inviting me over?"

He snickered, pulling his jacket closed over your chest. "If you'd like. We could share a pizza, have some wine, listen to music..."

"Is this a date, Jeong Yunho? A date-date?" You puffed your cheeks at him. "Not as friends, right?"

His finger hooked under your chin as he leaned in, causing your eyes to flutter as you stared at the mischievous expression on his handsome face, unable to break away. His head cocked slightly. "And if I said yes? What would you do about it?"

A fierce blush warmed the tips of your ears and you pulled his jacket up further, trying to hide the excitement building, the giddiness bubbling up. You nodded, teeth biting into the meat of your lower lip. "Let's just say... I wouldn't mind if it was a date."

You pretended not to notice that he was still holding onto your hand as the two of you left, pretended not to hear the excitement in the sound of his laugh as he guided the two of you down the quiet sidewalk.

He could have anyone, so why did he pick you? Okay sure, you two knew each other and had been friends since middle school. And sure you had the biggest, fattest crush on him in high school and your feelings never went away, so... Why not?

You had your fair share of dating and sleeping around, a couple flings and things that lasted for a few months. It was easy to find dates and go on a variety of dates and sleep with attractive guys... yet they never scratched that itch. They always left something to be desired, and eventually, the shine would wear off and you'd both move on and that would be that.

It wasn’t that the guys weren't attractive, weren't charming, weren't funny, or weren't sweet. They just... Never clicked. You'd have sex with them, unsatisfying sex at that,  that made you walk around the rest of the day wondering 'is this it? Are these the types of guys I've been going for?'

Seonghwa was the closest to having something steady. It was sweet, comfortable. Until your spark just kinda... died? It wasn't anything either of you did. No drama. No cat fight or argument. It just naturally fizzled out and the two of you stepped back into your friendships, and when either of you got horny, the other person was always a phone call away.

But with Yunho? Well, that was a whole other animal. It was butterflies. Nerves and awkward laughter and racing hearts. You felt young and silly again. And you were positive you weren't the only one. The attraction was a mutual thing, which made it more thrilling. You didn't just imagine it, and the heat simmering and smoldering was equal between you.

He lived just outside the main district in a cute studio apartment over an art gallery. Your breath caught every time you saw his smile and his arm slung around your shoulder, keeping you close, that hand drifting back and forth along your arm, knuckles tickling at the flesh at your collar bone as he giggled.

"Home sweet home," he stated proudly as the two of you climbed the steps to his home and stepped inside, toeing his shoes off. "It’s tiny, but cozy and private."

As soon as you stepped into the door, you were in awe. It was exactly like Yunho - handsome and modest and masculine. A king-size bed with deep maroon sheets, dark curtains, and lots and lots of pillows. And his desk had several pictures in frames, displaying memories. There were tons of photographs, including lots of you and the guys from when you were kids and teens, to more current versions, the most recent from the company welcome party for him.

"Jesus," you breathed out in a rush, stumbling forward as your eyes continued to scan the space, landing on the long sofa that sat to the right and his kitchen which looked tiny, "wow, look at you, mister fancy pants. You really landed yourself on your feet."

"Ha!" Yunho cackled, hand clasping onto yours. "It's nothing like where you and the other's are living, but it's paid for and cozy. Let me order the pizza, then we can get comfortable."

"By comfy, do you mean cuddle up and watch a romantic drama?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

He hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Will that make you feel good?"

"Are you offering to make me feel good? Orrrr..." you started.

He shook his head, a laugh gracing his lips. "The usual order?"

You gave a nod, stomach rumbling as if answering his question for you.

He smirked, snagging a pillow and tossing it next to the spot on the couch you would claim, waving his cell phone to remind you to wait patiently while he orders food for you. He vanished into the kitchen, a silly smile on his lips.

You wiggled out of his jacket and tucked the large pillow against you, hugging the warm clothing close to your body. If you closed your eyes, you could easily imagine him embracing you. His scent surrounded you, and you found that it helped calm your jumbled nerves, keeping that level head that usually evaded you whenever this tall, handsome giant was standing too close, looking at you with those intense, kind eyes.

Fuck. This was an actual date.

With Yunho.

A dream come true.

And just how were you supposed to handle yourself now?

Yunho had finally started paying you more attention lately, and sure, the group hung out a lot together, but this was a little bit different, right? It certainly felt more than friendship, and if you were reading his signals right, then the interest was there, especially tonight.

So then, maybe it was possible for the two of you to work. Maybe?

When Yunho finally rejoined you in the living area of his home, he held up two glasses and a bottle, a wide grin spread across his lips. "Drinks?"

He glanced around the area as the two of you chatted, laughing and making small talk while you waited on the pizzas. As the film played and the food was eaten, you relaxed into the sofa, cuddled up at his side, eyes locked on the screen. His fingers caressed the strands of your hair and rubbed a gentle path over your arm, touch drifting back and forth, but not far.

There was comfort, and you sighed. His affection was soft and steady. You relaxed against him, happy to finally have some alone time with him, just the two of you in your little bubble. His scent enveloped you, and his arms cradled you like you belonged here. 

"Can I ask you something? You can always refuse," you nodded, a curious gaze moving over to find him chewing on his lower lip and looking at the floor. "Okay. Well... Do you... Am I... Would it be too weird if I told you that I really like you? And not just as a friend?"

You took the moment to process this question, staring at him for a solid five seconds before you sat up. "Wait what?" you blinked in confusion.

"Oh god, nevermind! This is awkward now," he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to laugh as his face turned a bit pink and looked away. "Just forget I ever asked."

"Hey, come back," your hands cupped his face and you turned him so you could look into his eyes again. You tilted your head up, lips brushing against his. "I like you too."

He didn't speak and just closed the distance. His lips moved against yours, slowly parting open, pressing firmly yet softly as you relaxed your mouth against his and let the pleasure of the feeling flow through you. Your hands ran along his face, into his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingertips.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Unhurried and eager, but not rushed. His arms tightened around your waist, and you moved in his lap, adjusting your legs on either side of his hips and seating yourself properly, so you were facing him and comfortably slotted in.

You nipped playfully at his plump lip and parted your mouth open, smiling against him.

"What's so funny?" Yunho asked, tilting his head at you curiously, tracing his finger along your cheek.

"It's not, I don't know, I was worried that there was an attraction here because I've liked you for ages but thought nothing would happen, but like..." your head dropped onto his shoulder and you stifled the nervous giggles against his throat. "This feels really good? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that you like me too."

You couldn't help the grin from pulling at your lips and he chuckled.

"Don't you smile at me like that," you said with mock annoyance, pulling back and playfully hitting at his chest. "It's all your fault. You've grown up hotter and even better as the years passed. You're too tall. Too charming. Too sweet. Just everything, it makes my heart jump and I like you, so what now, you idiot?!"

His hands curled tighter around your waist, fingers digging into your shirt and he gazed down at you, a large smile plastered across his lips. "Let's start dating and take things as we go."

"I really like the sound of that," you smiled.

When you returned home that evening, Yunho walked you to your front door and lifted you into a tight hug, inhaling your scent and holding you close for a few more stolen moments. It was only a kiss goodnight; a sweet, passionate, deep kiss that set your skin aflame.

His smile had never been brighter, and you touched your fingers to your lips, feeling the burn of where his kiss still tingled, even though it’d long disappeared. "See you in the morning, okay? I'll meet you at the office. Don't be late."

You giggled, "Don't worry. I won't be."

Now there you were, home alone, wanting nothing more than for those hands to return to you. You sighed contentedly as you slipped the jacket off your body and placed it carefully on your dresser, smiling at the scent that fills the air and reminds you of Yunho. The evening had been perfect, everything just like a fairy tale came to life. You felt on top of the world.

But, like any other person, that peace and serenity would not last forever, not on your side, and especially not for the monsters watching your every move.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

That dinging startled your sleep, but your eyelashes fluttered as the vibrating continued and you groaned, knowing it must be something important. When your phone sounded a second time, the vibration caused a shudder on the surface of your dresser, you reached over and tapped the screen.

The text had your eyes going wide and your blood turning into ice in your veins.

Unknown: Looks like you had fun with your new boy toy. So cute. I wonder what will happen next time.

Unknown: You have a gorgeous smile.

Unknown: Be careful, little doll. Monsters are watching you.

You weren't surprised that Yunho was early the next morning. In fact, you were already seated in the break room, sipping a mug of terrible coffee, half asleep as you stared out of the glass wall, your eyes fixated on the downtown buildings a few blocks away, mind and gaze drifting about aimlessly.

Yunho poked his head through the door, finding your slumped form immediately, that stupid, shy smile coming onto his face. When he joined you at the table, his arms stretched out on either side of you and pulled you gently into his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as he breathed against your cheek.

"How'd you sleep?" he questioned, a large palm rubbing soothing, firm circles on  your arm.

"I'm so sleepy I might die," you buried your head in his chest. You were not going to tell him about those weird texts or that you tossed and turned all night, eyes glued to the screen in case the person tried texting again. How could you tell him that? Or the others?

He chuckled. "Well, don't die quite yet," his nose nuzzled your hair and his lips brushed your earlobe in a playful nip. "I need my girlfriend around, y'know."

Your heart stuttered, heat and flooded your cheeks. His girlfriend... You liked the sound of that. You glance over his features and study his expression as it lingers for a moment before it drifts back to that smug smile.

"Girlfriend... I like the sound of that," you playfully pushed his arm, biting into your lip and trying not to swoon, his reaction had you floating on cloud nine. "And what would my boyfriend say about the coffee at work, huh?"

"I'll run to the shop in a few," he stated, "Whatever my girl likes."

"Oh God, I really love the sound of that," you nodded.

He stood up straight, pulling you out of the chair and giving you a quick squeeze. "Come with me to get your daily dose of liquid sugar. It's on me."

"Are you guys always going to be gross now?" Wooyoung questioned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart, as you walked past his cubicle, laced hands swinging.

You nodded. "Absolutely. I'll just be loud so everyone can know how much my man adores me."

"Did I hear 'man'?" Hongjoong questioned from his own office space, popping his head out to investigate what had caused your shriek. "Did Yunho finally make a move, because God knows we were about ready to stage an intervention."

"Please, everyone knows she's wanted Yunho since the seventh grade," Seonghwa chimed in, poking his head over his cubicle wall.

"Come on," Yunho laughed, pulling you along to the elevator, "I think we've done enough entertaining."

You flipped a rude gesture over your head as you walked. "Bite me. See if I ever get you guys coffee!"

"What!? I didn't say shit!" Jongho yelped from the back, clearly getting caught up in the shenanigans.

You stopped as the two of you waited outside, leaning up onto the balls of your feet and placing a chaste, sweet kiss against his lips. He hummed happily and melted into the feeling of your kiss. His smile was radiant when you parted ways. He quickly leaned down again, pecking the tip of your nose and before reaching out to grab your hand, keeping them tangled while you both crossed the street towards the closest coffee shop.

The two of you stayed for an hour, enjoying the cozy atmosphere, drinking more coffee and hot chocolate. You enjoyed the company, and you simply couldn't wipe the smile off your face as he watched you from the other side of the table. He seemed in his own blissful thoughts and for a moment, everything felt unreal.

The entire day was filled with giggles and stolen moments. You may have disappeared to his cubicle for a make-out session at lunch when the rest of your coworkers disappeared. He sent suggestive texts throughout the day, making sure you knew just how interested he was.

God, his kisses were fantastic, addictive, and oh-so wonderful, it made the ache between your legs even harder to control. All day, all you could focus on was him and that smile, or his handsome face. Or the feel of his skin as you moved to help him. The way he leaned and followed you around like a lost puppy, unable to take his eyes or his hands off of you, stealing those gentle little touches whenever he could get away with it. It was driving you crazy. You were high on hormones.

Fuck, what was it about the beginning of a new relationship that made you feel drunk, and hyper-sexual? All the excitement and anticipation of what could happen, the chance of being alone or maybe sneaking away for something even more private? You felt like an addict and your thirst would likely be unquenchable.

By the time dinner rolled around, and the crew decided to head to a bar on the waterfront for food and drinks, you were floating on air and Yunho was hugging his arms tight around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder like some protective shield, a happy smile stretched across those gorgeous, pink lips.

"Jesus, you two look disgustingly cute," San chirped up, fiddling with a menu, his elbow leaning on the table.

"Yeah, can you please refrain from being so adorable? We're still processing," Yeosang joined, rubbing his face.

"I'm serious, it's sickly sweet. My heart might just fucking implode," Mingi punctuated his sentence by shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Jealous, much?" You leaned forward, eyebrows raising in challenge as Mingi pouted.

"What I'm wondering is," Yunho held up a finger, waving it around the table and frowning, "who has a pool going. Who guessed that this would happen and who thought we'd make a slow, sluggish journey through hell before admitting our feelings? Someone placed bets. Fess up."

The men shared glances, but not a word was said until Mingi finally gave in and folded. "I mean, you two have been making googly eyes at each other forever, so..."

Hongjoong sighed, giving in to the truth and pulling his wallet from his pocket. "Seonghwa, Mingi, Yeosang, and I bet this would be sometime around high school. Wooyoung and San thought it would have happened by our college graduation. And Jongho was confident that you'd get together sometime this year. So, I guess he won the pool."

"I'm a rich man!" the youngest declared excitedly. "Finally, something goes my way, because those idiots are paying for drinks."

"Dicks. All of you," you piped in, unable to hide the smile and the shake of your head. Your coworkers and best friends were such assholes, and it was hard to remember sometimes. But, you loved them, and they've always had your back. You always had each other's backs.

The group ate and shared drinks for a solid three hours. Things got fuzzy after that, though. A lot fuzzier. Everyone was laughing and taking photos. At one point Wooyoung even shoved a fistful of fried calamari up San's nose, causing you both to screech and sputter from laughter, or the food. You couldn't tell anymore, it was all a happy blur.

When you went to the restroom, a text popped up on the screen. Unknown number. Unknown, again. That dark feeling began to build inside your belly and you took the phone with shaking hands into the stall.

Unknown: Thought I saw something cute.

Unknown: Have fun.

"Who the fuck are you?" you whispered. But of course, no one answered you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved his head down further. His tongue flicked a hot and wet trail between your breasts, tasting the salt from your sweat before moving further to the other pert nipple, rolling the nub with his thumb and licking until the buds tightened.

It didn't take much. You'd been starving for his touch all day long, a whole twenty-four hours spent teasing and trying to remain professional in the workplace, and tonight, all you wanted was his touch. You were laying sprawled on the soft sheets of his mattress, clothes haphazardly strewn around the living room and down the hall where the two of you had started stripping them as soon as the door was closed and locked.

Those long, gentle fingers brushed back the strands of hair from your forehead, soaking in your flushed cheeks and hooded eyes with a playful grin. "Feel good, little one?" he questioned with a low, rumbling growl.

The endearment sounded good falling from his lips and you hummed. "Very. Don't stop."

"So demanding," Yunho chuckled, his fingertips brushing over your ribs and side, giving you goosebumps as he trailed a slow path back and forth until his fingers found their way around your soft belly and down towards the lacey fabric of your underwear.

"Want these gone, or on?" his finger looped through a tiny ribbon-like strap.

You smiled, cheeky and without shame, raising your hips against him. "What would you prefer, hm?"

"Honestly?" Yunho dipped his face closer to yours, breathing a sigh into the sensitive area and making you shiver. "I want to stuff your mouth with these pretty little things while I fuck the breath from you."

"Fucking hell, Yunho, I didn't know you were so... so..."

He bit your neck. "Kinky? You'll soon find out how dirty I can be, especially when my sweet, sexy girl is being so good for me and begging so pretty."

"Shit," your breath caught. "Go right ahead."

"Let me know if you get uncomfortable. We can always stop. My main priority is that you enjoy yourself, okay?" His voice was soft and sweet and a complete contrast to the huskier tone he had only seconds prior. It was a side of him you'd never witnessed before. He was gentle, sweet, and made you feel secure, safe, and precious. "You'll always come first."

His big hands slipped your lace underwear past your hips, off over your knees and ankles, balling them in his hands.

"Open wide, little one," he growled softly, a thumb running along your lip as your mouth fell open, "just like a good girl." He slipped the fabric past your teeth, smiling at you, "Oh, there's a good girl. Looking so pretty, panties stuffed in her mouth like a pretty slut."

A finger slipped into your folds, testing your reaction and finding slick desire pooling around his digits. "Fuck, baby, you're soaking, is that all for me?"

"Mmhm..." you moaned.

"Spread those legs nice and wide. Yes, just like that. What a good girl, such a pretty angel. My beautiful babygirl," a second finger dipped inside your dripping core, scissoring and making room for a third. Your hips rose to meet his touch, whimpering as the three fingers stretched your cunt deliciously and touched all the right places inside. His long fingers filled you, but didn't fully satisfy.

"Look at the pretty slut dripping onto my bed sheets. So messy, my perfect little girl. Spread open like a hungry, naughty slut, her sweet little cunt sucking in the three fingers I've been gracious enough to stuff in that tiny, soaked hole. What a treat you are. Can you even last till the real thing?" He curled his fingers upward and a scream tore past the lace, tearing, but the moan from your throat was lewd and loud. "Is this what you imagined? In our cubicles? Bent over, getting fucked over and over until my seed dripped from this perfect little cunt. Oh, the dirty things I have planned for my pretty little angel. And don't you worry, I'm not anywhere near finished with you."

Yunho brought the slick fingers back to his mouth, wrapping his tongue over them, cleaning them with a lust-filled gaze and the roll of his hips. Fuck, he was ready to explode right there at the sight.

"Would my little one like to taste?" He pulled the panties from your mouth, replacing them with his soaked fingers, his thumb brushing against your lips, waiting for approval, and you sucked eagerly, your own tongue joining and savoring the taste.

"Now turn over, hands and knees for your boyfriend," you squealed a little, scrambling to turn around for him, positioning your ass and knees and knowing full well you must look quite the picture. "Fuck. Baby. You really want it, don't you? Need that cock, and fast, huh?" His thick, bare cock, aligned at your entrance, hot and pulsing. A whine rose, needy and hungry. "Talk to me, little one."

"Fuck," you gasped, gripping the sheets in desperation, his voice was thick and hungry and the words, holy hell, the words. "I want it! I want it so badly! I just... please."

"Please, what, little one?" Yunho stroked his length along your folds, coating his cock with the ample slickness leaking from your core. "What is my girl begging for?"

"Fuck me!" you shouted, pushing your hips towards him, "Fuck your girl, please. Please, I'll be good for you, whatever you want!"

"Good answer, baby, such a good girl," his palms grabbed your ass and slid along your thighs and ass, landing on your hips in a firm grip. The wide head of his thick shaft pressed slowly into your cunt. In and out. His breathing hitched with a grunt when you took him in halfway. "Fuck you feel so good, shit."

Big. He's so big, the biggest you ever took, and the best. He stretched you in the most delicious ways and took you exactly where you wanted it. None of your past fucks even held a candle to this man, and he didn't even fully fuck you yet.

"So big... so fucking big." It was a gasp, a moan, a desperate plea, a whispered prayer on your tongue. You needed that thick cock more than you've ever needed any other.

He bottomed out and you groaned at the sudden pressure. "Good?" His voice was a growl and he leaned into you, licking and biting the curve of your shoulder blade and down to the small of your back.

"Fuck, so good." Your words were slurred from lust and ecstasy. "Oh, yes, right there, fuck."

"My perfect girl takes dick so fucking pretty," Yunho purred. His big hands settled on your back, massaging gently. raises tumbled from his lips, soft, husky groans and soft hisses, deep groans. He moved again, so fucking thick and stretching you more, that when his hips thrusted in sharply, you saw stars, arching and shattering under the touch.

Yunho was the name that slipped past your lips in a frantic cry and then a steady moan. 

"I got you, baby," he mumbled against your back, "just let me have you. I'm right here, babygirl."

You turned to face him and found his intense gaze meeting yours. He leaned forward, pressing his lips roughly to yours. His chest flattened on your back as he drove forward harder, faster, and rougher, setting a fast, greedy, and almost desperate pace, wanting to hear and taste every piece of you.

"T-this. This is what I-I needed. This is perfect. Need you. Oh, God... Yes," you were struggling to get words out.

"That's what I like to hear, tell me more. Fucking pretty girl, I think your tight little cunt should be filled with my cum, so no one else will have you. Would you like that, would you want me to fill you until you're sore and gaping?" He drove even deeper, so fucking thick and hard. He grabbed your chin and tipped your head to watch the desperation that crossed his beautiful, sweat-slick features and the lustful sparkle in his eyes.

You whimpered. "Yessss. Cum for me."

"Then watch the show, baby, gonna make that perfect pussy of yours gape and swallow every bit of me. You'll do that, won't you? Be good for me and keep it all warm and plugged up? Just for me," his thrusts turned sharp and erratic, bouncing your body along the mattress. You nodded, still feeling his palm gripping your jaw. The wet sounds were so loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Fuck, Yunho," your hands gripped onto his wrists, the muscles tensing and straining, working your core with everything he had. "Yes, keep going. Don't you fucking stop. I need it. Oh God, please don't stop."

"I'm right here, little one," Yunho groaned, voice tight and gravelly, his pelvis rocking and bucking, his breath shaking as he pressed closer. His face burrowed between the nape of your neck, his voice low and thick. "Gonna cum now, gonna fucking cum, gonna make a mess in that pretty little cunt. Going to paint you white, my pretty girl."

"Do it," the words came out as a whimper, "Wanna feel you."

Yunho let out a rough and broken growl.

His cum shot out in heavy ropes that coated your insides and slid past your opening, coating you both with an extra slickness. His hand lands over your mound, massaging and keeping a steady flow of pressure until finally, when his last release hit the deepest spot inside you, you saw that white-hot glow in the back of your eyes.

You broke. His name came out on the edge of a sob.

The world turned and spun. He lifted and cradled you against his chest. Pressing warm lips over your pulse and humming when you tucked your face into the hollow of his neck, spent, exhausted, and drifting into the fuzzy nothingness, he whispered tender words in your ear.

"It's okay," he shushed, a warm palm rubbing circles in the middle of your back, "Don't fall asleep on me yet, let's get you clean." He helped you rise and then ushered you to the bathroom. Once inside, he wrapped those massive arms around you again, pulling you back against his chest. "Doing alright, beautiful?"

"Perfect," you whispered.

His grip loosened a bit and his lips grazed against the back of your shoulder and a quiet huff followed. "You did wonderfully, little one." A hum was all that followed his praise. You were far too tired for anything else.

You barely remembered washing up and drying off. You had no clue how the two of you ended up snuggled, legs tangled up. Your head laid on his chest, while his large hand laid on your cheek, rubbing light circles and playing with your hair.

"Yunho," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"Kiss me again," and he did, bringing those soft, puffy lips to yours in a kiss that is no different, gentle, tender, slow, sweet, and exploratory, despite being together intimately already, you both craved that innocent sweetness and the reassurance it would bring.

"How are you doing? Was I too much, too soon?" Yunho asked quietly.

"Never," you scoffed, smacking his chest, "that was fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well, I aim to please," the grin in his tone was evident and infectious.

Snuggled in his arms, warm and protected, it didn't take long before the both of you were softly snoring away, peaceful and perfectly content. You didn't even see the notification on your phone as the little bubbles popped onto the screen.

Unknown: I bet his cock felt good buried inside that sweet, tight, little cunt. It looks lovely, all stretched and leaking.

Unknown: Sleep tight.

You drifted, blissfully unaware.

"A camping trip?" Your eyebrows creased, and your cheeks felt as though a blush rose at the thought.

"Hongjoong thinks it's a great opportunity for some relaxation and bonding after everything, what do you think?" Seonghwa sipped at his coffee as Yunho circled his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You guys can share a tent and put it far away from us."

"Like far away from us, far away. I mean it," Hongjoong motioned across the span of the field with wild and sweeping hand movements. "I don't need to hear shit, and especially don't need Wooyoung running his motor mouth."

"Bite me," the loud-mouth in question screamed, waving an arm into the air in retaliation.

"And, there's no pressure. If you don't want to, that's perfectly alright," Seonghwa shrugged, but his words weren't nearly convincing.

Yunho smiled. "No, we're totally in. As long as everyone promises not to come within like five miles of our tent in the middle of the night."

"Done deal," Hongjoong immediately stated.

Wooyoung snickered. "Maybe Y/N's loud moans would scare away the bears."

You scowled. "Would they scare the tiny gremlin boy, because, in that case, I'll happily be very loud."

The young male stood up, moving a finger back and forth between the two of you. "Watch your back, Y/N. I might just throw you in the lake while you're sleeping and make it look like an accident. This is war!" He stomped off dramatically towards his desk, pretending to throw a fit.

"Why is he so dramatic? Can we leave him at the camping grounds and pretend to forget him?" Jongho quipped dryly.

The camping trip did sound like fun, especially being able to enjoy it in a small group setting, and without worrying about running into unfamiliar faces, that dark presence that seemed to follow you, stalking and haunting, might stay away. A perfect solution.

The rest of the workday passed in relative normalcy, and before the hour struck five, you had left with Yunho by your side and plans of going shopping were set in motion.

"It's been such a long time since I last went camping," Yunho chattered, skipping around in front of you and leading the way into the sporting goods section, "think they have soundproof tents? Just in case? For when I get super frisky and fuck the breath out of my sexy girlfriend?"

"Jesus christ, Yunho, calm your jets," you laughed, patting his cheeks, "I doubt there's such a thing but maybe we can get lots of pillows to stuff in the corners and walls."

"Perfect," Yunho grins and kisses your palm.

The next two hours flew by, filled with tossing things in the shopping cart, giggles, and teasing. After you managed to find an assortment of things you might need and settled on what looked to be a sturdy tent, Yunho paid. Before heading home to drop off everything, the pair of you went clothes shopping, after deciding that the proper attire included comfortable pajamas, enough clothing to last, and in your case a nice bathing suit to lounge in the lake.

And when Yunho wasn't looking, you grabbed something that was a little... naughty for your favorite kinky giant.

After loading the car with camping and fishing equipment, gear, supplies, a few tents, and a cooler loaded with drinks and snacks, a text came in from the groupchat.

Seonghwa: Load everything into your trucks, we leave tomorrow at 8 am.

Wooyoung: My Jeep will go fast, Jongho doesn't hold back on the gas pedal!

Jongho: You don't drive me. Ever.

Hongjoong: WEAR SEATBELTS!

You: Yes, Joong dad.

Yunho: LOL

Mingi: Dad. Priceless.

Yeosang: He does remind me of an anxious dad.

San: Cannot agree more.

Hongjoong: ....

Yunho: She called him "Joong Dad," isn't that just perfect, Hwa?

Seonghwa: I'm gonna start a drinking game. Take a shot every time you call Joong, "Joong Dad."

Jongho: Count me the fuck in.

"Hmph," you huffed, scrolling through your notifications and catching another. Same number, unknown again. You blinked twice, then opened the message.

Unknown: So sweet, picking up supplies for your boyfriend. And did you have some naughty plans too? Good, so did I.

"Baby, ready to go home and have dinner?" Yunho pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your forehead.

Your head snapped up and your gaze met his, blinking at him. His wide smile met you and your own slowly stretched to match it.

"Ready," you said, feeling sick at the new unknown message.

He watched as you slid your clothes off after a long day and tossed them aside. His hungry eyes trailing over the curve of your soft belly, then your wide hips, then down the round curve of your ass. His gaze lingered on the lacy set of panties you'd picked up the night prior.

So tiny. They don't cover nearly enough of that amazing ass.

His dick twitched in his pants as his tongue darted out and swiped across his plump lips. Laying there, on your belly, not aware of the dark shadow lingering right outside your window, looking on as your soft cheeks and round globes jiggled at every movement, the arousal tinted his stare. His heartbeat sounded rapidly and the blood began flowing directly towards the aching part between his legs.

Slowly, carefully, silently, he tugged the zipper down and pushed the fly of his jeans to the side to wrap his fingers around his swollen cock. A soft groan caught in the back of his throat when he tightened his grip and pumped his length along the underside. Watching as you pulled out that favorite toy of yours since your boyfriend wasn't there.

Oh, was he so jealous right then of that lifeless toy, the silicone dick that slid in and out of your pussy, soaking in the wetness and preparing that greedy pussy for a cock of actual flesh and blood. His mouth watered as the silicone phallus sunk deeper into you. His fingers continued to run along his thick girth and grip the sensitive tip, slicked up with precum, spreading it down and adding friction to his movements. His gaze fixated on that damn vibrator. The thought of bending you over crossed his mind, but then decided that he wanted the pleasure of making you cum on his cock. Wanted the sounds of your cries muffled, wanted you to break into pieces at his hand and only his cock, his cock and nobody else's.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Grab your tit and play with it like a good, little slut. Such a pretty pussy and ass. Bet my cock would slide in and out real fucking nicely if I bend you over the bed and slam in that wet hole until I fucking paint your insides and mark that tight, hot, soaked cunt." Pumping his length and gripping the swollen tip, he bit back the whimpers and the grunts, so desperately wanting to call out.

"Just a little longer," he groaned, his head tipped back, fighting to keep the volume low, "Gonna make you feel me and make you mine. Soon, baby, I'll make that cunt remember the shape of my dick, stretch you and split you open with my fat cock, make you suckle and worship my cock every chance I get, make you full with me."

"Yeah, babygirl. Gonna stuff your pussy and then plug the cum inside. Fuck. Cum all over that face, that pretty ass and tits." He groaned out.

"Shit," his cock pulsated and throbbed, aching and about to release, "nah, gotta wait."

Stopping his self-love session, he focused his attention back to the show, knowing that with this intensity, with every passing second he got closer and closer to the moment when he'll get the chance to bury himself inside your wet warmth and the deepest, darkest spots. You were always meant to be his, always belonged to him.

Because if he can't have you, no else ever will.

Pulling into the camping lot, the first sight of the trees had Yunho's face lighting up, and you swore that when he looked like that, his cheeks scrunched adorably and his smile a million watts, you had no control over yourself. Every part of him was absolutely precious. Your stomach flipped, and those pesky little butterflies fluttered around and around inside.

Parking alongside the line of trucks and smaller SUV's, everyone scrambled out. A collective yawning, stretching, and murmurs of agreement came in the form of mumbles.

"Gorgeous place, huh?" Jongho raised his hands up above his head, pointing towards the distant view, "Good day for hiking."

"Let's get some tents set up and then explore," Hongjoong murmured.

They set up the tents, arranging supplies and cots. They were in a rush to explore, not that you could blame them. You slipped on shorts and a t-shirt, running up after them, tugging Yunho to come with.

But with him in his element and nature all around, there were things that caught his interest, things that the group explored as they walked through the camping grounds.

"We should try to find a spot not so far into the woods," Yunho's voice pulled your focus and you turned around, meeting the warmth in his eyes. He stepped closer, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Sounds good, babe?"

Your eyebrow rose and an inquisitive hum echoed. "Whatever do you mean, honeybun?"

"Welllll," he leaned over, pecking a soft, fleeting kiss on your nose, "we can sit out by the trees, by the lake, watch the sunset..."

You blushed, suddenly knowing exactly where his words were headed. "I think I understand," you grinned. "We packed the earplugs for everyone, right?"

He smirked, cockily, pulling your face closer until his warm breath caressed your lips and teased a response from them, "Sounds like someone is thinking of getting busy?"

"Always," you answered, letting him press his lips to yours.

"Don't worry," his chest shook and his smile lit up the sky, "we have extra earplugs."

"Hurry up, lovebirds!" Seonghwa's shrill screech called.

A light giggle burst forth. "Ready to see the beautiful spot and pick out the perfect tree for our sinful deeds?"

"Too much!" You heard Hongjoong grumbling.

Yunho laughed, breaking free and sprinting, arms lifted in the air, towards Seonghwa, all smiles and eyes closed and sparkling, a few stray wisps of hair falling out and flying through the wind. He turned around, a hand held out to you. "You coming?"

And you ran, meeting his extended palm, lacing your fingers through his, and feeling warmth radiating from him, the bright shine and joy radiating from the man in front of you, loving him all the more, feeling happiness wash over you, too. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed you, a small gesture, but a tender one.

"Hey, now," Hongjoong snorted, walking back over towards you, "keep it PG."

The glare the younger man gave off only caused him to chuckle harder, doubling over in mirth, loud and boisterous, bouncing back from tree to tree.

"Okay," Yunho huffed, arms circling around your back and ushering you forward, "back to the serious business of finding a spot for this lecherous act that Hongjoong believes we have planned."

The snickers from your party began in waves and soon, you were swept up in the infectious fun, laughter surrounding and spilling out and echoing. Yunho pulled you further along, playfully, all lighthearted jests.

Hours later, sitting around the campfire and listening to a guitar, the melancholy strums filled the evening, and the stars sparkled overhead. Snuggled next to Yunho and singing along, you watched the fire flickering.

"What if," San suddenly jumped in and tapped a finger against Mingi's shoulder, "what if we played a game of truth or dare, like we did in high school?"

"No," Hongjoong was quick to shoot down the idea.

"Pleaseeeeeee," Wooyoung's puppy-eyes begged.

Yeosang sighed. "Oh, come on hyung, give in."

"And if they get truth or dare?" Hongjoong points at you and Yunho, "who knows what we'll get subjected to!"

Seonghwa grimaced. "True."

"Pleaseeeee?" Wooyoung cried. "Pretty, pretty pleaseeee?"

"Alright," Hongjoong gave in, a sign of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's long, suffering, and excruciating tale of their school experience. It had to do with those same puppy eyes, specifically, Wooyoung. "But the moment the lovebirds get frisky, I'm shutting it down."

You gave him the most angelic smile. "Roger that, Joong Dad!"

"And so the night continues..." Hongjoong groaned into his hands, elbows propped against his thighs and head tipping into his palms, "why do I enable this nonsense?"

And so the night progressed. Dares were made. Wooyoung sent San to a dark scary area, where the sounds of something like footsteps could be heard. The culprit? Jongho, shuffling his shoes quietly back and forth in the grass. Yeosang ran out to the water and ran around screaming, waving his arms like a mad man, only to do it again - per request from Mingi. Truths were told about silly childhood memories, the most embarrassing moments, the greatest fears, and a few love stories and regrets were spilled, as well.

Sleep eventually took hold of everyone, exhausted from the trip, the music, the singing, and the laughter. Slowly, one by one, each member retreated into their tents. You and Yunho followed, going hand and hand, holding hands. The night seemed to last forever with so much time, a perfect ending to a perfect day.

As soon as you had crawled under the thin sheet and blankets, Yunho pulled you close. He curled a palm around your hip and used the other to lay the crook of your neck onto his chest. You glanced up, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw and looking at the soft expression across his features, so beautiful, so gorgeous, like a dream that never faded.

And then you drifted off.

He watched you slept through the night, unable to take his gaze away. You didn't zip the tent all the way, it hung just loosely enough to where he could easily spy inside, a mistake on your part and he was completely taking advantage of it. The slow steady rise and fall of your chest as your breaths moved through you, a quiet exhale, your plump, perfect lips curling softly, he couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at you. His fingers dug into his palm, leaving nail indents into the soft flesh.

How he wanted to caress and trail a gentle touch, feather soft, over that delicate skin, to have your heat spread and pulse beneath his palm. It's an agony he wanted to bury himself in, this perfect image of you asleep, so very delicate and tender.

And when his gaze followed the soft curves of your face, his cock is swelling and throbbing. He swallowed hard, imagining those pouty lips wrapped around the girthy, sensitive cock as his fingers wrapped in your hair and he fucked your face and mouth roughly, spilling himself over and over again until you were gagging and struggling for breath.

His tongue glided between his lips, his dick hardening even more from the lewd thoughts of what he could do to you. All the ways, places, angles, things. So, many things he would be doing. And by the end, you'll be addicted to the feeling of him.

Soft snores sounded through the clearing. Then a snort. And a muffled curse. A bark of laughter.

"Jongho! Keep it down." One of the men snarled from his tent. "Fuckin' christ."

And another zipped open and Mingi and Seonghwa stepped out.

"Let's walk around, get some fresh air," Seonghwa whispers as Mingi nods.

His head whipped around the area, knowing the area's layout, having the chance to scope out the place just recently. So, with the dark cover of night and the absence of those who were awake, he stepped back. It was time for him to disappear back to where he was hiding in wait. For as long as he needed to, he would remain waiting, still.

Stalking quietly, his large feet tiptoed out through the darkness and back into the shadows, as he'd always done.

Biding his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.

Patience.

Days after the camping trip, you were at Yunho's place, waiting for him to get home and you sat on his couch, phone clutched in hand, your attention on the string of texts that appeared earlier. Your jaw clenched, eyeing the words, that unsettling feeling returning.

Unknown: Fun camping trip. Tell me, Y/N, which were your favorite moments? I especially loved when you and your boyfriend fucked each other with the tent flap open while the others were sleeping.

You blinked, suddenly a stone lodged in your throat. You could almost taste the sourness seeping through the text message. The fact that the stranger was lurking, following the group's movement and possibly tailing, was not lost to you.

Unknown: Would you have loved it just a little more if I were the one fucking your tight little cunt and you moaning my name, my big cock sinking into those silky wet walls, my hot cum filling you?

There wasn't a text for a couple of minutes, and then more came.

Unknown: Just let me try and guess, baby. How your soft, tight walls would constrict me, would massage and caress my throbbing cock. How my big dick would feel deep inside, opening you up, stretching that greedy hole, making a mess. I know you like a messy pussy. Would you beg me to cum inside you, fuck that juicy pussy hard and fast, mark your insides with my cum and fill your womb until you were full of me?

Unknown: Your mouth is even better. Can just imagine wrapping my fingers into your hair, that gorgeous face pressed against my balls. Sliding the fat tip between those pouty lips while you lick up the length, suckling on the underside of the thick, veiny shaft. I would make sure that you had trouble speaking the next day, sweetheart, from how hard I would be pounding and slamming the back of your throat, having my cock stuffed down your throat until you can only choke. Fuck, baby, gonna breed your holes until you cant ever take anyone else.

Unknown: What can I do to make you mine, babygirl?

You nearly vomited at those last words, crinkling your nose and screwing your eyelids shut to stop reading them.

But then another came.

Unknown: Be ready soon for my cock and cum, darling. It's going to feel so fucking good.

When the key in the door alerted you, your attention shot upwards and you shoved the phone in the side pocket of your bag and met Yunho's dazzling, gleaming smile and gentle gaze. It seemed like your troubles melted, worries forgotten.

"Did you wait long? Sorry I'm late." His wide, bright smile crinkled his eyes in the most precious way as he spoke, tossing the keys aside and toeing the shoes off and kicking them to the side.

Before you could get up, Yunho had plopped himself next to you, kissing you deeply, softly. His long arm curled around your shoulder, pulling you into his broad chest and nuzzling your cheek, and you grinned uncontrollably.

You pressed the palms of your hand flat to his chest, peeling off and leaning back, giving him a sweet smile, then curled both arms around him and laid the top half of your torso against the side of his arm and placed your cheek on the bone. "Did you have dinner already, baby?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Wanted to wait."

He laughed softly. "For me to come back?"

"Uhuh," you nodded.

"Then," his chest vibrated, and a soft purr thrummed. The rumbling, content and happy and low, is warm. "Let's get up, baby, and head to the kitchen. We'll cook together. Then watch a movie in bed. How does that sound?"

"Do I get dessert later?" You nibbled on his arm.

His deep chuckle responded. "I think a lot can be arranged. C'mon," and he stood, hands at your waist and pulling you up with him. "Let's get cooking and eating, and I'll save that for after."

Your heartbeat and stomach were swarming with the familiar butterflies. Even now, being around Yunho was a sensation. And not even that, not only that, but with those new, strange threatening and ominous text messages that crept up. For a moment, you pushed it aside. Allowed yourself to drift into the moment, wanting so badly to spend more time with Yunho.

After dinner, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed lightly before leading you to bed. You buried your face into his shoulder, mumbling a faint sleepy sentence or two, not quite making out the exact words.

"And, dessert?" You raised an eyebrow, puckering your lips slightly and gesturing towards him.

He smirked, lifting you and throwing your legs around his waist, strong hands firmly holding your plump ass. Then the familiar sensation of being placed, ever so gently and delicately on the bed. With soft touches, hands roaming and sliding under the fabric, clothes were quickly stripped off.

"Can I have my dessert now? Pleaseeeeeee?" you asked, batting your long lashes and feigning a childish expression.

"Go ahead," he laughed as he leaned against the headboard and patted his lap, spreading his powerful legs wider to show his straining erection. "You were talking about this kind of dessert, right?"

"You read my mind, babe," you said, a teasing wink as you slid towards the middle of the bed and between his thighs.

A low grunt passed his parted lips and a heated stare was sent in your direction. You reached out, wrapping the palm and fingers around his thick cock, the veins pulsating against your skin, throbbing and eager. Leaning forward and licking the swollen head, the little bead of precum leaked out of the tip. Sliding the flattened tongue over the slit, your fingers working up and down and around the width, circling up to the sensitive head, feeling the heat and his eager pulse thrumming as it got harder.

"Shit," a sharp intake of breath. His head tipped to the back, and his teeth sunk into the lower lip, biting back the needy whimper.

Taking the fat tip in and hollowing your cheeks, sliding deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat, feeling it sink further and further in as his fingers cradled the nape of your neck. Your nails skimmed his thigh, catching onto the coarse hair before teasing the hot and velvety hardness, causing the flesh to throb between your lips and around his member, moaning from the taste and scent of the cock, swallowing around the heavy weight, causing the vibrations to send a shot of electricity.

His head thrown back, breathless gasps filled the silence of the room and hands caressed your hair. His hips bucked, slowly and carefully, as though afraid of pushing your limits too far. Your throat tightened around the swollen shaft, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth. Eyes wide, half-lidded and gazing up at him. His cock twitched in your mouth and he made the most sinful sound.

"I'm going to fill your mouth, darling. I want you to swallow it and everything that spills out, make sure to drink every last drop. It's your dessert, after all, right?"

Humming lowly, mouth still full, nodding faintly, a confirmation.

A hand lifted to the back of your head. Slowly, he caressed the soft strands, running his fingers through the locks, caressing the strands. Light scratches, soft and loving against your scalp.

And his body shook hips rocking up, in and out of your mouth, picking up a rhythm. "Swallow it, sweetheart. Drink up."

The warm cum spurted into your mouth as a throaty groan fell, a lustful gaze locked to yours, staring. Those warm, gorgeous, honey brown eyes were full of awe and love as you swallowed and licked every single drop that spilled. You squeezed and swallowed, tightly sucking, eager and willing and sucking him off, desperate and eager and swallowing again.

His thumb grazed your skin, tipping his thumb against the corner of your lips to brush away any semen leftover.

You sucked up every bit, licking the warm and soft tip, letting the fat head roll around on your tongue and using the tip to sweep away the last traces of salty seed. Sucking on the cock until nothing remained.

Leaning back, you watched the reaction, waiting to hear the praise, your boyfriend's blissed out expression. A smile bloomed, a pleased hum passed your lips as he reached out, grasping at your shoulders and tugging you to meet his gaze. "Did you enjoy your dessert? Did you have enough?" He laughed. "No? Guess I have to feed you more."

With ease, he flipped your pliant and small body, your back on the mattress. Pressing his cock along your entrance. Sinking the fat cock into you, taking his time, the wet sounds and hot walls clenching his dick. "My baby needs to be full and satisfied, right?" A breathless moan. The pure, lecherous tone of his voice sent heat into your cunt, pussy throbbing, the slick building up. He pushed the length slowly in, relishing the stretch as your walls hugged and swallowed him. He throbbed against you and pressed forward, cock reaching and sending sparks up and through, tearing apart all inhibition and breaking down that delicate restraint.

He fucked and rutted, thrusting, bucking, and moaning into your quivering, hot cunt.

You were already melting, and the lust only grew more intense, like a burning flame, as the sloppy and wet noises echoed around in the room, loud smacks filling the empty space.

The way his large, strong hands moved to your thighs, urging them to wrap around your waist. Using that to angle deeper, driving himself harder. Until his big cock is sinking into you. Overwhelming you completely as he fucked into your warm, welcoming cunt. He moved his hips faster and rougher, panting and desperately trying to catch his breath. His nails raked into your hips and dragged across your skin, leaving his claim. The noises and smells were all consuming, skin flushed and bruised, red splotchy marks coating your hips.

He felt so fucking good, slamming that girth deep inside you, hitting your spot and pounding it until you were trembling and moaning, almosting screaming, his name. Your body collapsed, turning and face-planting into the sheets as Yunho’s fingers kneaded and spread your cheeks wider. He grunted, eyes blown wide.

And he fucked you more.

"More?" You breathed heavily as his dick, grinding, the bulge filling and pressing along, pressing and touching your spot, teasing it. So big. He was too much, and it felt so incredible. His tip and heavy cock and balls and long shaft were brushing and smothering and his hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your body, everywhere.

"Take it, darling. You feel so good. So soft and good. Fucking amazing." The strain in his voice could be heard. But, god, it wasn’t just how incredible he felt, but his low, husky groans and gasps were taking over your ears. "You love this, baby, don't you? My huge cock fucking and thrusting and feeling good inside you, isn't that right? Can't you feel it?"

The air was suddenly hot, sticky and heavy. Everything felt heightened. He moaned as he kept fucking you, murmurs falling from his lips, his breathing rough as he stared down.

"Yunho, please. Cum in me. Cum, please. Feels so fucking good. Baby," you could barely breathe as his thick shaft shoved, harsh, hitting so deep. Your fingers were clutching and grasping at his back/ Yunho’s head dropped, pressing his forehead along your temple. "Gonna cum, shit, Yunho-"

"Do it," he commanded.

Throwing your head back, eyes clenched shut, shuddering and panting, his warm lips suckled and nibbled the skin along the nape of your neck. "Look at me." His husky, gravelly command was clear, your eyelids snapping open and vision settling on his molten chocolate gaze. "You're mine, okay? Say you understand. Tell me."

You nodded feverishly. "Yes. Only yours."

"Louder."

"Yes!"

"Good. You're mine. I love you, darling. You're everything to me," and then he kissed the side of your cheek, running his palms down along your sides, slowing down to tenderly brush his hand on your sweaty face, wiping the strand of dampened hair that clung. "Do you love me, darling?"

Your heart melted. His passion and fiery intensity is gone, replaced by this warmth that surrounded the space in between and spread. There was that soft, tender voice that had a hint of yearning and hopefulness. You smiled brightly at him. "Of course," you nodded softly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. So much, so, so, so, so much. Never want anyone else. Just you."

His bright, blinding smile and glowing happiness was what had you beaming and grinning back as his eyes turned into those beautiful slits, like a cat. Then, he laughed. It was you favorite sound. Laughter that bubbled, like music. Music, just for you.

You lost yourself in his touch and love.

And the strange text messages were forgotten, vanishing completely out of your mind.

Yunho looked at you, sprawled out, peacefully sleeping after a night of intense fucking and blissfully being knocked out by pure exhaustion. With careful ease, he slid himself to sit at the edge of the bed and picked up your cell phone discarded earlier on the ground. Scrolling through the messages.

What kind of face were you making when you read these messages? Were you disgusted by them? Discomforted? Out of place? Annoyed? Perhaps a bit unsettled? Maybe even just the slightest bit scared? He looked over his shoulder and glanced at your slumbering form.

Yunho was surprised to see that not once had it even crossed your mind that he may be the culprit, the one who would stalk, obsess and prey on his innocent little prey.

But you weren't innocent, were you? You were so damn filthy and lewd, fucking and sucking with abandonment, swallowing the cum and slurping it, begging for more and more and more, not caring who else is watching, just as long as his thick cock filled your greedy cunt. And look at you, lying there, as if you were his property. All his to use and abuse however he saw fit, and you loved it, begging him and moaning and crying for him.

Not once did the idea occur to you, to him, your loving boyfriend, would be the cause behind those messages.

But maybe one day that would happen.

Perhaps you would find out, find out in time, but he had plans for you.

"Yunho?" you murmured, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, blinking the sleep and tiredness away, unaware of the expression plastered on his face. You rolled over to stare, rubbing the edges and corners. "Where did you go?"

"I'm grabbing something to drink, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon," he responded, voice like the smoothest silk.

Without questioning it, you nodded, mumbled, rolling back over to return to dozing and he quietly walked over to the kitchen. Pulling open the cabinet and fishing a burner phone out of its hiding space, underneath the containers and hidden away, behind the rows. He powered it on and shot a short message.

Unknown: Darling, looks like you enjoyed your meal very much. I'll see you soon. I hope you didn't eat all that dessert. Because there will be a lot more for me to feed and give and for you to swallow.

When it sent, and he received a brief acknowledgement from your phone, he quickly turned the burner phone back off and put it back in its hiding space. Shutting the cabinet, he returned to you, placing your phone on the end table and plugged in to charge overnight, before settling in next to you.

Lifting his arm, he let you slip into his embrace, pulling your face towards his chest, hearing that adorable happy sigh slip through your mouth. When Yunho leaned in, he pressed his lips to your temple. "You're mine, right, baby?"

"Mhmm," you agreed, sleepy.

"Forever?" He stroked your hair. "Not just tonight or tomorrow. But you'll stay with me forever?"

You didn’t answer back immediately, but he felt your nod. It was slight, yet he felt the assurance. The trust you held. And for the time being, it was enough. He decided to hold you a bit tighter, feeling your warm presence at the very center of his heart, where no other could touch. This, to him, was an oasis in the desert of his life. And he felt warm.

Warmth that he vowed never to lose.

He let the wicked thoughts take him. What he had to do, and planned to do. What he could get away with. How he was going to slowly strip apart that innocence of yours, leaving behind a sobbing mess and destroying those bonds of reality.

He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to.

He was doing it because he must.

Because you were meant for him and him alone. You were his from the beginning and no one was going to get in the way.

He buried the darkness away and wrapped his arms more tightly and lovingly around you, letting himself feel the happiness and peace a little while longer before the shadows could reach again.

One thing was clear.

One fact remained.

You belonged to Yunho and Yunho belonged to you.

Even if he had to lock you up and throw away the key. 

[kuroosatoru]

all to myself - mechanic!toji nsfw oneshot

cw: nsfw!!!, size kink, head(giving and receiving), switch!toji, dilftoji, coworker trope ig, unprotected p in v, he cleans you up ;), not proofread;-;

wc: 2k (yeahhhh it gets pretty steamy, buckle up buttercup)

the summer heat was starting to get to you, the ac in the shop had been broken for a while now and it's not like your boss was making a point to get it fixed. you finish putting a new battery in a car as a bead of sweat crept down your face, preemptively turning around as you see toji's reflection in the silver of the hood, "are you sure you've got that? i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, doll." he asks, poking fun at the fact you were too small to be working on cars in the first place. you laugh dryly, "seems easy enough if you can do it, does it not?" you reply, causing toji to take a step back. "hey my fault being concerned. boss wants ya though." toji says, his tone had shifted, and you couldn't help but worry that you hurt his feelings, "oh, alright. i'll head over there when in a minute." you reply. toji nods, walking away briskly.

toji was a confusing man, flirting with you one day and completely ignoring you the next. it should've turned you away from him, but if anything, it just made you more interested in the older man.

it's only here do you realize just how good the dark haired man looks in his uniform, his grease-stained coveralls tied around his waist, revealing the black tank underneath, which hugged his pecs and exposed his large arms. your mind began to wander, and toji could feel eyes on him, "it's not nice to stare, y/n!" he yells across the garage with a sly smirk. having been called out, you start to blush and turn around, unable to find something to say back to him. usually, the two of you would have kept going, but something had changed. you say your end of service spiel to the customer, lead them back to their vehicle and make your way into the bosses' office.

-

you reach the end of your shift, and now it's just you and toji closing up shop. after mopping the floor and counting the register, it's time for you to get changed out of your coveralls and head home. you open the door and start to get undressed when you hear the door open behind you, "oh! sorry i can wait." you exclaim, aware that toji needs to pick megumi up from daycare. he licks his lips, "nah, it's okay, doll. ladies first." he says, backing out of the room. you turn to lock the door, but you decide to leave it open just a crack, hopeful toji would come back or better yet, take you home with him.

you shimmy out of your uniform, and toji watches from the inviting crack in the door. unable to take his eyes away from your beautifully greasy and sweaty body, the way your panties hugged your hips made his throat dry. his mind wandering and leading him to his thick, long, cock making your stomach puff up. he decided then and there that he wanted, no, needed to be inside of you. you turn around, noticing toji,"fuhisguro! what are you doing?" you exclaim sarcastically, opening the door. "oh you don't know what you do to me, y/n." toji practically whispers, closing and finally locking the door behind him, his cock was already twitching at just the thought of finally having you to himself. despite the two of you being alone, you got excited at the potential of getting caught.

toji towered over you, his eyes now darkened with lust. you reach for his bulge and he lets out a moan so small, you swear you misheard him, "oh i think i do." you say, untying his coveralls. your fingers graze his waistband and he flinches. "is this okay?" you ask, slightly concerned you did something wrong. toji looks down at you, "you never have to ask, doll. 's just been a while." you nod, taking the tip of his member into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as he whimpers.

"fuck, y/n." he mumbles, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat, causing you to grip his muscular thighs for stability as you gag a little bit. you dig your nails in, sending chills down his spine; he grabs your hair with one hand and uses the other to wipe the sweat from his forehead. toji can barely handle it, and he lets out a moan as he finishes in your throat.

"shit, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." he stutters out as he takes his semi-hard member out of your mouth. you smile and swallow his load, making him blush, "it's okay, toji. but what do you want to do now?" you ask with a slight smile as you stand up.

"well, doll. i gotta pick up the kid, so [...]" he trails off, grabbing a shop rag to wipe himself clean. you both put on your normal clothes and head out to your cars so you can go back to your respective homes.

-

toji could not stop thinking about you whatsoever, and while the blowjob was mind-blowing, he was stuck up on the fact that he never returned the favor. so, after dropping off gumi at his friends house, he decided to go to your place. hoping you decided to stay in for the day. toji arrives and you open the door for him, surprised to see him, "oh? what are you doing here?" you ask playfully. stepping aside to let him in, you finally get the chance to see him the way you've always iamagined.

today toji had on basketball shorts, which didn't leave much left to imagine, not that the burning image of his cock shoved into your mouth wasn't bright as day, but still. you had just gotten out of the shower when he answered, so you had on nothing but a thin robe, causing toji's mouth to water as he imagined the beautiful body underneath. "y/n, i can't stop thinking about that night." he admits to you sheepishly as you lead him to your couch.

"if you sit down, i can do it again," you reply with a smirk, patting the couch next to you. toji shakes his head, "no, doll. i wanted to taste you." he says, now standing in front of you, nudging your legs open with his knee.

"mmm, please?" he urges, taking your hand in his, getting onto his knees. you take a second to think about it, and open your legs to let him in, but not before taking a second to actually look at him. he's rugged. his black hair tousled into a sexily messy pile as his dark eyes looked into yours. you can tell he hasn't shaved in a while, his stubble starting to come back, but you decided that wouldn't be an issue. you needed this.

toji reaches his and towards your now throbbing clit, "oh you're so wet for me, doll," he smirks, finally touching you as you moan in respose. his large digits slide into you as he runs his tongue along your folds, he smiles to himself when he feels you tightening around his fingers. seeing how you moved your hips to have more of him was causing a tent to form in his shorts and he groans against you as he gently takes your clit into his mouth, and you can feel your legs tremble already. you can feel yourself about to finish, and toji can too. your wanton moans filled the room as he kept eating you out.

and then he stops, taking his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth to suck them clean. "tojiiii," you whine in response, "i wasn't done yet." he smirks at you, any part of his personailty now taken over by lust. he leans forward to kiss you, "im sorry, but i need to be inside of you, doll." he says. as he takes his shorts off to reveal his member, you see the precum leaking from the tip.

he places his fingers on your lips, "open up, pretty girl, i want you to tatse youself too." he commands, and as you suck on his digits, he lets out a loud moan, "mmm, that's a good girl."

toji takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses your spit to lubricate himself, the tip of his dick now positioned at your entrance, begging to be let in. you nod at him, "go ahead, i can take it."

toji is big, much bigger than you've ever had, your face twists in a slight discomfort as you feel yourself stretch around him, "oh you poor thing, not used to having a real man eh?" toji remarks, starting his routine of gentle, short strokes into you. if we're being honest, you weren't 'used to' anything toji did, his deceiving demeanor constantly surprising you.

you wrap your legs around toji as he starts to speed up his thrusts, his long cock poking at your g-spot as you dig your nails into his back.

toji felt the knot in the pit of this stomach tighten as his thrusts got rougher, the rhythm he once had being taken away by how intoxicating your pussy was to him. he buries his face in your neck and leaves bite marks trailing down to your shoulder, "y/n," he warned, "i'm close." maybe he didn't mind having another kid he thought to himself as he saw your face contorting to reflect the intense pleasure his body brought you, "mmmh, too." you mumble, his cock causing you to lose all sense of self as your legs push yourself away from him in a futile attempt to move.

"nuh-uh, doll. no running away this time," toji whispers as he pulls you back to him. now, he's bottomed out, the tip of his member making a clear bump towards the bottom of your stomach. you look down at the symphony of squelching the two of you are making and you cum around toji, gripping his shoulders to stop yourself from ascending to the heavens as your vision turns white. toji grips your hips and proceeds to use you to finish himself off, and you can't say you hated being his toy.

"oh holy shit, y/n. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, look at you, taking it like a good girl." toji says with a whimper as he finishes inside of you. he doesn't pull out right away, in fact, he never wants this moment to end. with your face contorted in pleasure as your sweet pussy was still gripping him, he thinks to himself maybe i don't mind having another kid.

the puzzle the two of you were entangled in dissipated as the grip you had on toji got exceedingly weaker. your legs fall, letting him pull out. the mixture of your fluids soon started to fall from your legs and as you reach for something to clean yourself up with, he stops you. "i want to do it," he says eagerly, your brain unable to decipher what he meant after toji had you reach your limit just now. "okay, but you have to be gentle," you reply sheepishly, willing to take yourself as far as toji would help you along the way. he grins, excited that you're willing to be his toy.

toji gets back into his well-earned spot in-between your legs, your pussy slightly red from the fun he had just had with you. he blows a cold breath onto you, causing you to flinch in excitement. he kisses your entrance before sticking his tongue inside of you, swirling it in circles just how you did when you started this whole thing. you throw your head back against the couch you honestly forgot you were on and scream, "oh god toji, p-please don't stop." your eyes meet as he starts to rub your clit with his thumb.

"oh don't worry, doll. you're my new favorite toy," he says without taking his mouth off of you. you're barely holding on and you know you should've been done a long time ago, but who would've known toji had this much in him? who could've thought he'd have so much of himself in you?

notes: sorry if it's rough! but wow oh wow has this been something ive thought of a lot. i hope you enjoyed xoxo - jib

[crusherthedoctor]

I'm all for thinking about and discussing the intricacies of what we choose to latch onto (as a fanfic writer, I would know), but I feel it needs to be noted that not everyone will convey their brainworms in the same way.

As someone who often needs the right time and mental energy to make a longer post, as I simply cannot do it on a whim like most people apparently can on this site, I empathize with people who have a lot to say, but don't know how best to explain their thoughts, and who may be actively discouraged from speaking up on them because their lack of words as is already gets them dismissed as a mindless consumer right from the getgo. Not everyone chooses to telegraph their deep thoughts on their chosen media: sometimes people will have their big brain analysis that they might keep to themself or be hesitant to elaborate on until a later date when they feel ready, and that should be okay too. This should still be a hobby at the end of the day, not a job assignment.

(This isn't directed at you specifically, it's just something I've been contemplating about the entertainment VS art debates and Tumblr culture in general, and felt this was a suitable place to give my piece.)

It really is insane how many people engage with art on a pure enjoyment level. Theyll go to a movie and the only deciding factor on whether or not they liked it is "was i bored or confused during that 90-120 minutes?" Youll talk to people about a book or show or film you both enjoyed and theyll have absolutely nothing to say about how it made them feel, or what they think it was trying to impart to them. It begins and ends at "it was fun to watch/read" it drives me nuts

[mimipolo]

I MEAN... Nam-gyu x Female guard 🧎‍♀️

THAT WOULD BE CRAZYYY

(NSFW) 🤭

Nam-gyu x femguard! reader

Sorry for being gone a family member of mine died🙁

I actually enjoyed writing this a lot so I hope you like it!

Anyone that knows how to make my posts prettier please hmu💔

The games were getting boring, the high the drugs have him initially didn't hit the same and his body constantly craved for another outlet. It was infuriating, it was like his body ached to release this frustration he couldn't make out where from.

Lately though, he's felt like he's been watched by one of the guards with the square symbol on their mask, he knew it was their job and all to keep an eye on them to shoot them down when players are eliminated but damn this one guard had been staring him down hard. He'd just spare a dirty look before but now it'd been making him paranoid.

So much so it had him tossing and turning in his bed, the mattresses are too thin and pillows too flat. It was driving him mad. Sighing with new found resolution he pushed himself off his back and made his descent down the bunk. A little splash of water would do him good. He hoped at least. Or he would actually lose his shit.

Dragging his feet lazily to bang at the door for the guards to open it. He didn't bother being polite, watching other people's experiences it was easier to let them know you're serious about going from the get go. And it worked. A circle guard begrudgingly opened the door and escorted him to the bathroom.

He'd spent quite a bit of time just staring at himself in the mirror blankly as he watched the water trickle down his face to the sink bowl below. The constant battling with the morals of himself and why he deserved to be in here in the first place were clouding his mind without the mind nulling effects of Thanos' drugs.

Swearing dismissively at his own thoughts he pushed himself off the sink and walks out of the bathroom. Except this time he's greeted by a square guard rather than the circle one from before, the fact alone had the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end as he warily followed after them at the silent gesture of their head.

He finds himself being backed up into the bathroom again, the door now closing with a resounding click that had him on edge immediately as his eyes scanned his surroundings then back on you.

"What do you want huh?"

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

One thing lead to another and now he's backed up against the furthest wall from the door, his breaths coming out heavy as he looks down at you. It doesn't seem like you have a weapon on you but he really isn't feeling like fucking around and finding out.

And then you're pulling off your mask, pushing it off and tucking your hair to one side.

You're beautiful.

It takes him a second to collect himself as: first off he didn't expect you to be a woman, and second why do you have the prettiest eyes he's ever seen? Now he's enjoying this tension, you're staring him down still and you look oddly familiar. But he doesn't give a shit right now, he's been feeling so pent up this whole time and you're presenting a perfect opportunity to let go a little.

Before you can open your mouth to speak he's smashing his lips against yours amateurly, slim hands working their way down your back until one reaches your ass and squeezes hopelessly. His sudden neediness catches you by surprise but it's not unwelcome as you also let your hands roam up to his hair and down his chest causing him to sigh deeply against your lips.

He pulls away for a split moment, lips connected by spit and he's grasping clumsily at the zip of your uniform, pressing his already growing hard on against your thigh.

"Is that why you've been watching me so closely, huh?" he says between breaths.

"You want me right?"

"This is only for my benefit... don't get it twisted." you murmur between his rushed kisses, your hands finding themselves on the same sink he leaned on before.

"Yeah you keep believin' that, it's gonna change soon..."

He can't believe how fast his heart is beating just from seeing you shirtless in front of him. Had it really been that long?Who cares. There's a woman in front of him panting in his ear and he wasn't about to pass up this beautiful blessing.

Surprisingly he's more considerate of the maintenance of your uniform as he pulls the tracksuit down to your hips and let's it pool at your ankles. He can't help but bite deep marks into your collar when you cautiously push your hair out of the way causing you to gasp slightly.

He's pushing his hips hard against yours, each rock of his body sending shivers down both your spines as he grasps you harder. One hand is fondling your tits, tracing the outline of your bra with such focus it almost irked you.

"Think we're both worked up enough, just lemme fuck you, please..."

His words are whispered in short breaths against the base of your neck as he gives kitten licks to your collarbone. His half lidded eyes shoot up to yours excitedly when he feels the small hum of your approval against his lips. You'd honestly been waiting forever, quickly growing tired of squeezing your thighs together and resisting the urge to meet his dry thrusts against you.

He's kissing you even more passionately than before, reciprocating had made you accidentally nick his lip with your teeth. Your eyes widen when you taste the metallic crimson on your tongue and you're pulling away to apologize.

He's huffing softly like he's disappointed you bothered stopping and licks the blood from his busted lip, then yours before moving in to kiss you again.

Apparently unafraid of getting nicked again.

Slender fingers pull your panties down to pool at your ankles alongside your uniform, rushing to pull his own tracksuit off. You help him shrug off his jacket and pull his pants down for him earning a strained whine from him when your barely brush his crotch.

Pecking your lips repeatedly as he pulls down his boxers and crowds your space, forcing you to lean against the sink more. But he keeps moving forwards, lifting up your hips slightly so you're slightly sat on the ceramic top so you kick your tracksuit off completely, then he starts to line himself up against you.

He gasps sharply when the tip pushes against your clit, his body hunching over slightly as his head falls. Repeating the action a few more times, smearing his pre cum all over your pussy, making more of a mess than you initially planned to clean up. But it's like his mind is somewhere else completely, occasional whimpers leaving his throat, pink lips he bit down on harshly as he rubbed his cock against your folds.

"You feel so n-nice... not even inside you yet. Who woulda thought h-huh?"

And he's finally nudging himself inside, stretching you out more than what you were prepared for making you bite your lip as you place a firm hand over your mouth to muffle the moan about to leave your lips. He grins stupidly at the sight as he finally bottoms out. He's holding your hips in a death binding grip and you wish he would move already. What you didn't know is that he's internally willing himself not to cum on the spot. He definitely needed this.

Without any warning he's slamming his hips into yours, the hand over your mouth that had relaxed tightening again to quiet your sounds. You honestly thought he was stupid for a moment, not even caring for the sounds that fell from his own lips as his eyes locked with yours, their dusted hazily from the pleasure of your walls wetly wrapped around him. The sounds coming from your wetness was embarassing enough, reaching your ears and making them burn.

"F-uck...so good could finish right now...don't think I can pull o-out."

What? Can't pull out? Your eyes widen at the statement and one of your hands leave the edge of the sink to roughly tug at his hair to snap him out of it but you're met with a loud moan in response. The strong verbal feedback from the action that was meant to be harsh startled you slightly, but the sound he made went straight to your core, making you squeeze around him tighter. You're slowly forgetting what you had wanted to say as your body's response and your hand in his hair triggers his urge to finally cum.

Pressing his pelvis harder against you with each snap of his hips so your clit gets stimulated. You let go of your grip on the sink completely now, one hand dug tightly in his hair and the other clawing gently at the nape of his neck. You're slightly surprised his grip on your hips is enough to support you and honestly if he was more aware he'd be surprised too.

But he's not, he's pushing himself into you deeper and deeper and you swear his trying to shoot it right into your womb. Silent whines rack your body as he tucks his head into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Then he's cumming, deep. Your eyes shoot open at the unfamiliar warm feeling filling you up. His hips are still stuttering to help you get there and you finally come undone with a small cry. The orgasm hitting harder than what you expected causing you to wrap your legs around his hips in a vice grip. His thrusts have slowed significantly, making sure he'd given you all of him before he'd even dream of stopping.

When he finally pulls out you're instantly met with the emptiness in your stomach, everything between your legs feels sticky and your legs trembled. He's panting softly against your neck and holding you close to him but now he's rubbing your back possessively as he whispers small thanks against your skin.

He's picking you up off the sink and placing you back on your feet carefully, you thank him quietly for doing so. But then he's laying his jacket openly on the floor and taking you by the waist to slowly lower you onto it?

"'m not done yet...just one more I promise. It'll feel great for both of us."

Small kisses along the curve of your breasts to your cheek urge you to agree playfully and your hair splays out on the floor. This probably wouldn't be the last one.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You hadn't meant it to become routine, really, you didn't. But somehow he was able to figure out who you were each time you were on duty. He'd put in the effort of learning the guards rotation so he knew when you'd be around to escort him back from the bathroom. You always insist that this can't be a daily think but he only smiles as he pulls off your mask for you and backs you into a nearby stall.

#needthat

[nor-ay]

Our first masquerade ball - (unrequited love story) 

Shadow Milk Cookie thinks that you are... Odd. Different, if you will. It’s in the way you roll your eyes at White Lily Cookie, in the harsh tone that slips out when you find someone annoying, or in the way that you always seem to be out of place. But don’t get him wrong; he certainly enjoys that. He thinks that you have great potential to be his right hand. He just needs to give you a little push on the right path. Sweet talks to you a little until he gets in your good graces and WHAM, controls you like a puppet. It's a win-win situation; he gets to have you on his team and breaks your friend's spirit. 

At least, that is what he initially thought, but that changes when you accept his gift and lie to your supposed friends. You lie to Pure Vanilla Cookie, and that has him clapping and laughing like a king entertained by the best jester there is in his kingdom. He almost can’t believe it! There is no need for him to break your perception of Pure Vanilla Cookie or the nature of Cookies. You already have resentment towards them. 

… 

You think that Shadow Milk Cookie is testing you. That has to be the only explanation for the gifts and fever dream. It’s not like it bothers you, but when you look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, you feel guilt growing and wrapping itself around you. He’s not deserving of this whole situation… Shaking your head, you try to push all these thoughts away. You’re not evil—

Apple Faerie Cookie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Cookies! Let’s go to the top of the Spire!” 

“I sincerely hope we’ll find what we’re looking for!” You find Wizard Cookie’s reply relatable. You’re tired too. And desperately wanting to get out.

“I bet you will! Now, shall we?” 

“Um…you guys can go ahead, I have to go, I mean, I forgot something.” You hate how your voice sounds so suspicious! Cringing at yourself, you try to smile. 

GingerBrave is looking at you strangely, and Pure Vanilla Cookie is unusually silent. Strawberry Cookie is the one to break the silence. “Really…? Are you sure?” 

“Yeah! I mean, what's wrong? I’m sure you all can live without me for a bit, right?” You try to laugh, but it sounds forced. When did you become so awkward around…your friends? 

Wizard Cookie frowns “Well, the way you—“ 

“All right! [Name] Cookie, I trust you; I’m sure you’re going to do something helpful! Just be careful.” GingerBrave without realizing it, saves you from being interrogated. And again, your lungs fill with guilt. You find it harder to breathe and the smile on your face falters. You’re not evil. 

“Can you not—ugh, never mind.” Wizard Cookie gives up. And you internally thank the witches for it. 

“Right. Thank you. And- please…be careful on your journey.” Ah, this is what you’re doing now. You don’t feel part of them. You never did. Not even with the five ancient heroes. You were always more of a confidant. Hearing Pure Vanilla’s worries, comforting White Lily Cookie after discovering her other half. Playing along with Golden Cheese Cookie, helping out Dark Cacao Cookie and Holyberry Cookie with their tasks. You never felt like you belonged. And so you grew resentful. 

You turn around and go in the opposite direction. Silence is the only thing you hear while going down the stairs, and you have to blink quickly to stop the tears from falling. You were not lying before when you said that you forgot something. When you arrive at the same spot where you woke up hours ago, the doll is still there. Sitting down, you pick up the mini-you and hug it tightly. Closing your eyes, you confess to no one. “I don’t know what to do… I miss when things used to be easy… I don’t want to hurt them. I’m just, so so so sick and tired of the same things over and over again…it’s like I’m trapped in a loop.” 

…

You don’t know how long it’s been since you parted ways with GingerBrave and company. But, unexpectedly, the doll in your arms starts moving on its own. So you let it go, waiting for its next move. 

Clap

A Colombina mask appears in front of you. It’s beautiful. You smile, thinking it’s a bit ironic. Perhaps even mocking that he gives you a mask. Is this his way of telling you that you’re two-faced? 

Nevertheless, you still put on the mask and follow the doll through some large hallways. Arriving at a luxurious ballroom. “How did we not see this?” You ask, completely in awe. The tiles on the floor are so white that you can see yourself reflected on them.

“Well… I had it hidden, of course; did ya forget that you’re in my domain, mhm?” It takes you a second for your brain to register who answered. 

“S-Shadow Milk Cookie!?” 

“Awe…are you really that surprised to see me? Well? Go ahead!” You notice how he’s also wearing a mask similar to yours. 

“Uh…ah-“ You don’t know what to say. Sweat begins to collect on your forehead. You begin to panic. You have to say something!! But, what can you say that he doesn’t know already?

Before you can think of anything to say, you hear Shadow Milk Cookie groan, as if annoyed. “Ughh right, I’m going too fast, this is a masquerade ball, you’re not supposed to know who I am.” 

“O-kay, let's start over!” You watch dumbfounded as he claps twice and the ballroom fills with different puppets who are dancing and talking to each other. 

You watch all this and can’t help but laugh, and, oh, it feels so freeing to be able to be as loud as you want. Everything is so out of the blue that you just can’t help it. Shadow Milk Cookie seems to be interested in what is making you laugh so much. “I’m sorry…this just doesn’t make any sense, and I love it.” 

He smiles, seeming pleased. “Now, THIS is the type of audience that I like! Alrighty! Let's get to it.” He closes the distance and takes your hand. He runs cold, you shiver at the contact.

You feel relaxed, and that should make you worry, but, as Shadow Milk Cookie gives you a twirl and spins you around the ballroom, you can’t. The giggles don’t seem to stop coming out and your eyes are all teary from all the laughter. Your hands are tightly grasping his shoulders and it doesn’t surprise you how agile he’s on his feet. It’s so easy to let him guide you. 

“Awww look at you! You’re enjoying yourself so so so much! Aren’t you going to ask me where are your frieeends?” 

“Well…,” you start—

“Oh, wait, WAIT, don’t tell me! You finally realize that it’s not with them that you belong? Especially that dreadfully, painfully, unbearably Pure Vanilla Cookie?” You can’t fully read the tone in his voice; it seems playful, but the hate he has for them inevitably seeps in. 

“That’s right,” Your smile wavers as you revert to your natural state of being. “It took me a long time, but… I’ve finally understood who I am and what I want.” A sudden bravery fills your heart as you finally ask him- “Please, take me with you!” You surprise yourself by the loudness of your voice.

Have you always been that desperate to escape your life?

“…” His eyes blink several times and it feels like the whole ballroom has grown silent. You start to feel self-conscious and—

His laugh fills the whole ballroom, and in just a second, Shadow Milk Cookie dips your body back dramatically. You grip onto him like a lifesaver and- and you’re out of breath. “Perfect,” you hear him say. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard. “Alright, since you asked so nicely…you’re with me now!” 

“Huh, so…”

“Oops, looks like I have to go, feel free to explore my humble domain, hehe!” 

He’s gone in the blink of an eye. All the puppets that were dancing vanished too, all left behind in the ballroom was the mini-you doll and your racing heart. 

“…Did he lose track of time?”

Okay!! I actually struggled a bit with the dialogue. In my mind, there were so many different things about what Shadow Milk would say in certain situations! But, I’m happy about how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed it too!! AND, this is important, the story is going to be on hold until we get episode 8 of Beast-Yeast. It’s not like I can’t improvise, but if I continue, and then they release ep 8, I know that I’ll end up rewriting everything, and I don’t want to do that, to be honest. 

Besides that, I’m already thinking of writing Shadow Milk x reader with a trope that I really enjoy!! Orr some headcanons (maybe nsfw, still unsure about that).

@notboomm @fyodors-belovedxoxo

[stealingpotatoes]

POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem