#all day cherry lipstick

[groovyangelkisses]

x-men 2000!logan x bimbo!reader is so personal to me <3

slightly nsfw: 🪷

he was standing with scott and a few students on the first landing when he saw you; skipping down the steps of xavier's school, big bouncy hair and shiny lip gloss that catches in the light streaming from the big, glass window. you're clutching your resume in one hand, and the sweetest little pink coach nolita barrel bag in the other as you happily chew on bubblegum— the smell wafting over to logan instantly.

and logan reads you like a book— even from a solid 5 feet away. your curvy legs & hips covered by the softest baby blue velour sweatpants, your tummy slightly on display. at this point, he's long forgotten whatever scott was piously rambling about to the students (and if he's being honest he was never truly listening at all) and logan's full attention is devoted to you. you and your sweet smile and gleeful squeal at getting a job as a mutant teacher, you and your long nails clacking against the old wooden railing as you descend, you and your little baby tee covered by the same soft blue, velour fabric in a mini zip up hoodie. and logan just stares, unable to move for a second. he doesn't even register he is staring until you're turning to him with a pearly smile and a little finger wave, one that he immediately mirrors (much to scott's amused confusion). you whip around, walking to the door, and logan knows he's hit his final straw. he watches the sway in your hips, and your small, excited steps leading you away as the bedazzled "juicy" written across your ass grows further away. the sight has him chasing you out the door— walking him like a dog before you even knew his name.

and once you two get together? oh EVERYONE knows. i mean, you're the perfect girl for logan. hyperfeminine, sweet and a tad ditzy, but intelligent and strong in your own way. soon your little mini skirts start to mirror the colors of logan's flannels, and your lipstick looks a tad more smeared in the mornings, and some of the other teachers even notice a little golden anklet around your leg, displaying a heart shaped "L" inside.

and logan absolutely eats it up. he loves watching you put on your makeup in the morning, makin you sit on his lap while he braids your hair and you ramble about certain products. he's constantly needy for you too. your sweet scent lingering in the hallways, and storm swears that at one point he blissfully closed his eyes at the sound of your heels approaching him in the hallway. he loves the dynamic between you both— him a pinnacle of masculinity, and strength. but you, you're soft and girly, so girly that it makes him hard just hearing your breathy sighs throughout the day.

he can barely function when you start tapping your foot during one of charles' weekly morning meetings, your bright sparkly pink pencil between your lips— covered in the lipstick he chose for you this morning. your wedges tap against the desk as you grow antsy, and logan has to press his hand against the seam of his jeans, his other hand reaching out to grab your anklet clad leg to pause your movement. and when you turn to him, a little gasp and big wide eyes, he has to stifle the grunt in his fist, whispering into your bejweled ear "c'mon baby, you're killin' me, sit still and i'll take care'a you later."

he's utterly obsessed with you, always saying how you're his "best girl," his "little cherry pie," his "dumb baby".

[zweiginator]

thinking about Stanford era art begging you for pussy <3 you insist that you don’t fuck athletes anymore, but he has his sights set on you and he just needs you so so bad :((( he’s willing to get on his knees and prove how badly he wants it :( just down soooo bad for you <3

wait how have i not seen this until now.....im sorry i got so carried away with this and its so long

art feels like he sees you everywhere. you work at his favorite coffee shop; it's the little cafe right off campus that he walks by on his way to the tennis courts every day before class. he sees you at the library and at the grocery store. he sees you at little gatherings: tiny house parties and bonfires and everywhere.

he asks people what your name is, who you are, if they know you at all. and people just shrug. say they've seen you around but they don't know you particularly well.

and he asks these questions to these random peers of his because he thinks he's in love with you. his obsession has festered since you wrote his name on his coffee cup back in august. it was the third day of the semester and there you were in low rise jeans and a simple white t-shirt, your hair pulled back. your lips were the color of bitten cherries and you smiled at him. said 'cold brew for art!' in the most saccharine, syrupy voice he had ever heard.

he already thought he loved you then. and then he kept seeing you. and seeing you. and then seeing you again. you definitely didn't remember him. thousands of customers a day near a vast college campus made art's face fade into a sea of other students with cold brew orders and milk substitutions and impatient sighs.

his thoughts were pure, for the most part. he really yearned of buying you roses. the look you'd have on your face when he handed you the full dozen. giddy as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. and there your cherry cola lipstick would stain. a mark of your territory. he wanted to fucking be yours.

his thoughts were pure until it was early september and it was still hot outside. oppressive, hellish heat made practice unbearable. art remembered seeing signage indicating that stanford had a pool open for students to swim for free. so he followed them and there he was in his socks and sandals with a towel slung over his arm as he searched for a chair.

and when he peered over his sunglasses, there you were in a gingham bikini, baby pink. reading a book. the oils in your sunscreen melded with your sweat and made your legs glisten, a blinding beacon that almost reflected light like a mirror. looking at your legs only guided him to ogling your torso, the expanse of your neck, that too glistening with perspiration. and then he saw your tits and the curve of your ass and every thought he had about dates and dinner and roses was pushed aside.

'fuck' art almost whimpered it. he turned around because swimming at a public pool with his peers sporting a boner would be social torment. so he left.

and for months, art continued with his rituals. seeing you around, he would smile or nod, but he would never formally introduce himself. would never say hello.

even wearing sweaters and loose jeans art found you fucking irresistible. he imagined how your tits were bouncing as you walked to class. how they would look with you on top of him. it all spiraled until he inevitably ended up fucking his fist, his jaw tensed as his mouth fell open and he went to moan your name--just to realize he didn't know it.

now it's halloween, and art shows up to the tennis team's costume party. he doesn't want to be there. in fact, he's dressed up as himself--a lonely stanford tennis player. racket and everything.

art sits on the couch and twirls his racket on the floor, watching it spin. and then, he hears your voice. a trickle of laughter that makes him stand up to find you. and when he does his knees almost buckle.

you're a black cat, with ears glued to a headband and a tight black tank top. a tiny, tiny black skirt and fishnets and heels to match. your nose is painted pink, cheeks adorned with faux whiskers from your liquid eyeliner.

art interrupts your friends completely.

"i'm art." he holds his hand out, awkwardly as he stands in front of you. he's tall and obscures your view of your friend group.

you grab his hand quizzically and introduce yourself and art is beaming. he has your name.

and then you say five words that send an electric shock through his arm, right to his heart.

"sorry, i have a boyfriend." you nod your head to the boy behind art, who looks like he wants to tear his head off with his teeth. he's a football player, it's obvious by his build. he looks huge next to art, although art is taller.

art says meekly, "well it was great to meet you." smiles at you and walks away. he doesn't know what to do with himself. he leaves, dejected.

___

and if art thought he saw you a lot before that party, then the world is pulling pranks on him because now he can't escape you. and the boyfriend he had never seen before seems to always make a guest appearance.

but you notice art a little more too. he's polite and charming, a tad awkward in an endearing way. his arms look strong when he comes into the coffee shop, tennis bag on his back.

when he comes up to the counter, you look at him through your lashes.

"cold brew, art?"

he nods. flushes a shade of scarlet you've never seen before. you've never had this power over a man.

"can i have your number?" art asks, pointing to his cup. you're still holding the sharpie you wrote his name with. you tug your lip between your teeth.

"i told you not even a week ago i have a boyfriend." you lean forward and art looks at your tits unabashedly. he's a little more confident now as he leans forward too.

"can we not be friends?"

you cap the sharpie. "we both know that's not what you want." a pause. "he and i broke up after the party."

art's ears almost visibly perk up. a hope is sparked. was it for him?

"but trust me." you point to art's tennis bag, the words on his t-shirt. "after that douche, i'm never fucking an athlete again."

art bites the inside of his cheek. he nods and grabs a straw from the counter.

"well i'll let you get back to work. it was nice seeing you again." art flashes you a smile. it's contrived and laced with the pang of rejection, but he smiles.

always so cordial.

art takes everything as a challenge. tennis has always been his outlet; it's the one thing that fuels his fire. but now he has you and there's not even anyone in particular to fight against but he wants you. he needs you and he has to make you change your mind.

he sees you around less frequently now; he figures it's due to the changing weather. he asks you for your number a few more times when he sees you at the cafe; his order has changed from cold brew to cappuccino and you always draw a smiley face on his cup. but the last time it was a heart and art is going crazy for you.

maybe it's because he hasn't had sex since summer because he doesn't even want to if it's not you. maybe it's because tennis has slowed down and it's cold outside. but he's losing hope because you've rejected him five times now and it's just getting pathetic.

and then, at a christmas party, he sees you again. in red tights and knee high boots with thigh high socks and a sweater dress. he sees you talking to a boy with mousy brown hair and art wants to fucking strangle him. he walks up to you.

"cute outfit." art says, pointing at you with his beer bottle.

he's wearing jeans and a cream colored sweater. his hair is messy, lips pink from the bitter wind outside. you admit he's cute. you've never denied that. but it's fun to watch him vie for you.

"thank you. yours isn't so bad yourself."

the boy walks away. so he isn't your new boyfriend. art counts that as a win. and he follows you around like a puppy all night. he asks if you need a drink. it feels like before you get a word out, there he is with a new one and he never opens it because he wouldn't want you to ever be uncomfortable.

and usually you would be uncomfortable getting undying attention like this. art's being a little pathetic, but as your friend told you at the halloween party after he walked off:

"fuck, he's hot."

and hours later, art is still there. it's getting late and people trickle out but there he is on the couch. and maybe you're bored. so you sit right next to him. the smoothness of your tights rubs against art's leg as you settle into the couch. his eyes widen.

"why won't you leave me alone?" you ask. it sounds harsher than you mean it.

"i-i'm sorry. i can leave you alone if you want." art has this little frown on his face. but he knows you would've told him to fuck off months ago if that's how you really felt.

you turn towards him and furrow your brows, taking a swig of your beer. "i never said that, artie. i'm just asking why."

you swear art whimpers at the nickname you give him.

"because you're gorgeous." he says, plain and simple. the sky is blue, water is wet, and you're gorgeous.

it makes you melt a little. you don't show it.

"so you don't want to fuck me?"

art chokes on his own beer a little. he notices how everyone is down the hallway, chatting in the kitchen. their voices sound shallow and far away.

art thinks for a minute. he was raised to be a gentleman. to be sweet and kind and patient. but he thinks he's tried that already. so he goes for a more blunt approach.

art sets his beer down and leans in close to you. closer than he has ever been.

"if i'm being completely honest," he swallows. "i'd do anything for your pussy."

his vulgarity almost makes you jump. gives you butterflies too.

your voice is shaky and you are hyperaware of the feeling of his leg against yours. you never noticed his eyes are different colors.

"i told you, i don't fuck athletes anymore."

art draws in a breath. "who said you have to fuck me?"

his eyes are boring into you. pupils blown, a battle line of sweat has appeared over his brows. his jaw is square and tense and he rolls the sleeves of his sweater up.

"i'll do anything for your pussy, i said." he licks his lips. you swear you see him salivating and your legs seem to open without you even realizing it.

art can see your panties. white with a bow on top and he looks away because he was raised better than this. his eyes flit down again and there it is, the jackpot. the fucking powerball. a wet spot. he can even see it through your tights.

"anything? that could be anything." you say. you look around and nobody is there but the room is open concept, new laughter erupts every few seconds. the front door is unlocked.

"exactly." art gets on his knees in front of the couch. he pushes the coffee table further away and it looks like he's about to kiss the floor. he kisses your ankle instead. "i think i've been a good boy."

you want to push him around you want to pull his hair and call him names, god he's making it so easy.

"if you'd do anything, then come here." you pull him by the collar of his sweater and your mouths are millimeters apart. art doesn't know what you mean, what you're about to do.

you slap him across the face. it leaves a mark and the chatter in the other room stops for a second. or two.

a part of you, in the interim, expects art to get up and walk away. to call you crazy. but he smiles, big and toothy. his bottom lip brushes against yours and he mewls,

"do it again, please."

you slam your lips into his and he holds himself up with one arm. his free hand cradles your face and you grab it and slap his own hand across his cheek. art moans into your mouth. ruts against you. it's involuntary, but you feel his cock, hard and heavy through his jeans. but you said you wouldn't fuck him.

the desperation in his kisses makes you almost feel bad. like he's afraid you'll run away. but the way his lips latch onto yours and his tongue licks into your mouth makes you want him too. you pull his hair and wrap your hand around his throat and he pushes your fingers further in. he wants you to make it hurt so he can fucking remember it and see the proof. so you do and he chokes for air, his mouth falling open. you spit in it. he'll take anything you'll give him. he wasn't kidding.

he runs his hands down your body. takes his time with you and you watch to make sure nobody is coming. art doesn't care. he plays with your tits and hikes your dress up but you won't moan for him. he'll make you.

he tears your tights. throws your legs over his shoulders and presses a chaste kiss to your clothed cunt. your hips buck and he holds them down, throwing his forearm over your stomach.

"what if--" you worry.

he looks up at you through his lashes. you can barely see his irises; his cheeks have your handprint tatooed on them.

"i don't care." he pushes your panties to the side.

"fuck."

his dream has come true.

he runs his fingers through your folds and you're soaked for him, sticky and messy and it coats his fingers as he rubs your clit in slow circles.

you hold your moans back, still.

"prettiest pussy i've ever seen." his eyes are almost crossed, the way he's looking at your little cunt, fluttering for him. his mouth is hung open and his lips are so close to your hole, but he just plays with you. spreads you open and admires your swollen little clit as he pushes it around with his thumb.

his fingers are long and you watch him push his middle one into you, all the way to the last knuckle. you grip onto the couch and gasp and he pushes his ring finger in too. he fucks them into you and your eyes are closed and you swear you hear people about to come in--but you moan for him.

"art--artie, please. oh fuck please--"

you're loud. that was too loud, but art nods, knelt before you like you're his fucking princess. you are.

"want me to eat your pussy right here?" he asks it almost sweetly. his fingers fuck into you faster, curling as he works your clit too.

"god--yes, i'll do anything please artie--"

he spits on your pussy. it's probably mixed with your spit too. licks a thick stripe over your lips and spreads you open to flick the strong tip of his tongue over your clit. he moans more than you are; the vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure up your spine and you're yanking on his hair so hard you think it might come out. he kisses your pussy like it's your mouth. it's an extension of it, to him. fucks his tongue into your pretty little hole and he feels it flutter around him. drool drips down his chin. his stubble is rubbing the backs of your thighs raw and he pushes them back. holds the backs of your legs so your ankles dangle and he can spread your pussy himself with his tongue. he can see how you convulse for him. you moan art's name over and over and he never liked his name all that much but right now he loves it because it's tumbling out of your mouth in gasps and whimpers and your legs are shaking under his grasp.

you watch the veins in his hands and arms tremble as he spits on your clit again. the second he makes eye contact with you, he smiles. you hear people coming, and then you're cumming and art isn't letting off even though the hallway isn't that long.

but he pulls your dress down at the last second and purposely spills his beer off the wooden coffee table.

"everything alright out here?" someone asks from the group.

art feigns surprise. "yeah, fuck. spilled my beer. he turns around and it's all over his pants. he wipes your arousal from his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

you stifle a giggle, because there isn't beer on his pants.

[eloquentlytired]

old!logan howlett x fem reader

18+ mdni

the taxi driver

pairing: old!logan howlett x fem reader word count: 3k tags: taxi driver logan - build up - eventual smut - large age gap ( reader in/over mid 20s and logan in his 50s ) - singular mention of thr0wing up and dr*gging - savior logan - some surface wounds - logan loves calling u sweet girl and sweetheart author's note: i wrote this hurriedly bc in case u havent noticed my blog has been full of old logan for a reason.. i too have become addicted w him- reblogs and likes are very welcome! ^_^

ৎৎৎ

“where to, sweetheart?” logan asks and you speak your address to him so softly that he almost misses it.

the drive is smooth and there's no real disturbance except some distant honking.

when the light is red and the cars remain static, he gazes at you through the review mirror. there’s a notebook in your lap which you seem to write in frantically. it is almost amusing how fast you're doing it too; the words probably look like childish scribbling.

“that pencil must be suffering.” his gruff voice makes you jump a little and you look up at him, feeling your skin grow warm when you realize what he means.

“it does. I gathered a whole collection of tortured pencils after getting into university.”

your reply amuses him even further and he offers a low hum as he starts the car again as soon as the light turns green. when logan finally takes you home, you hand him the money and wish him a good day.

“be good to your pencils.” is all the older driver offers before nodding at you.

the next time you see him, you're running late and there are tears in your eyes. tears that soon start falling when logan asks what happened.

you're glad it's him — you didn't want to be crying in front of a total stranger. he was a stranger but kind of familiar?

you wipe your cheeks and tell him you're in a hurry to go to university.

he drives fast but carefully — and he's sharp with it too.

“you’re absolute gold,mister.” you whisper stunned because this man has driven you five minutes early to your exam; if it was another driver he'd surely not give a fuck to be fast.

as always you hand him the money and you thoughtlessly press a kiss on his cheek while speaking so many thank yous to him.

“go. ace that exam.” logan offers a sympathetic look before you're running off to the gates.

he has no clue about the faint mark of lipstick that's tattooed on his cheek until his next customer points it out. there's some embarrassment there but also a smile that ghosts over his mouth as he wipes it away.

“third time's a charm.” you say smiling when you enter logan’s taxi. again.

he's just in time after you called; the weather will evidently grow bad and you're in no mood to be walking or waiting for some different transportation to take you home.

logan shares a faint smile with you; it's rare but it's there.

“where we going this time, sweet girl?” he asks and peers at you from the review mirror. his eyes always hold some sort of intensity that makes you shift in your seat. he notices but says nothing.

“just my home.” you reply dumbly and logan simply stares at you, unable to suppress that smile of his.

you realize how dumb your answer is because why would he remember your address? it's been a while and he has tons of customers everyday.

“gosh,I'm an idiot. my address—”

he surprises you by driving off absurdly, the motion startling you and making you grip the door. logan chuckles and shakes his head. “i know.”

oh. he does remember. you pray to reach your house before the upcoming thunderstorm but life has cursed you and the road is packed with unmoving cars. you will be stuck in there for a while for sure.

when the first thunder strikes, you yelp and cover your ears with your hands. you and logan stare at each other through the review mirror and you mumble a soft apology to him. all he wants to do is run his fingers through your hair and tell you it'll be okay.

another thunder roars and you helplessly pull your knees to your chest while resting your chin on top of them. logan deciphers the situation and before he's in the unpleasant moment of having your poor self break down, he reaches for the radio.

his favorite station is always on, he's at an age where he suffers from anything bass boosted or heavy. the jazz music that drowns the car is loud but not unpleasant. you stare at him surprised and when you realize he's done it for you, so you won't be scared, you smile so widely.

you can't talk since the music is loud but logan asks if this is okay with a nod and you nod back, still smiling. thank you, you mouth and he turns his head just a little to wink — nothing weird or bad. he just wants you to laugh again and you do.

“thank you once again,mister.” you mumble when he parks right outside of your home. logan gives his usual hum and turns to look at you again, his eyes regarding you with affection.

“see ya, sweet girl.” he says and you lean forward with purpose this time to press another kiss on his cheek. logan says nothing as he watches you go and by the time he gets another customer notifying him of the lipstick mark, he doesn't clean it up.

“what the fuck happened?” logan growls and he looks at the backseat where you're sitting, crying your eyes out. this was probably the second time he asks you something like that.

you don't reply and it worries him to his core.

“sweetheart.” you feel a calloused palm press on your knee and it momentarily distracts you from crying. you look at logan’s hand, the one he's outstretched to touch you.

your tears filled eyes stare at him for a long time before you tell him everything. “they put something in my drink. the ice in my drink..it just..and then everything began spinning so I left—" you mumbled in panic between intense sobs.

logan felt his blood boiling. “who? tell me who.”

after a few moments of convincing you reveal it to him — what the man looks like, what he's wearing and where he's sitting. logan enters the bar he's just picked you up from and you wait in the backseat of his taxi. silently and anxiously.

logan returns moments later and your heart raises to your throat. you can barely speak as you take in his bloodied sight — the blood on his shirt and knuckles, the cut he's sporting under his eye and a bruise that occupies the side of his jaw. but whatever blood is on his shirt doesn't belong to him.

“you should've seen the other guy.” logan says and he's smiling, and then you're smiling too.

you're throwing up in the middle of nowhere as logan holds your hair back with a single hand while his other hand strokes your middle. once you're done, he gives you a few tissues and reassuring words.

“it’s good you threw that shit out yar system, sweetheart. ya did good.” and the praise makes your heart throb. logan shakes his head as you stammer out a few apologies about dragging him around like this — he is glad to have helped. he is glad it was him you called and not another.

you two find a convenience store on your way back and decide to take a break. he watches with amusement as the first thing you do is buy toothpaste and a toothbrush while he takes care of some other needs — like water and something for you to snack on after everything.

he is waiting, sitting on his car hood when you return from the bathroom. you smile at him and he feels relieved to see you doing better than those few hours ago when he found you. to his surprise you sit by his side, your arms touching.

“thank you for everything. I feel like you're my guardian angel at this point.” he simply shakes his head while shoving his hands in his pockets.

“i’m no guardian. just a driver.” logan replies and his eyes find yours as you chew on the crackers he's bought you.

he stares at your wide eyes, your pouty cheeks and those lips that have occupied his cheek twice. logan shamelessly thinks he wants them a third time on him.

when the night breeze gets too much for your exposed shoulders, he's taking off his jacket without a second thought and putting it around you. you lean on him wordlessly and logan doesn't push you off. one of his arms settle around you before his calloused palm pulls you close by your shoulder.

“mister?” you call out and look up at him, your cheek squishing against his shoulder.

“spill it, sweetheart.” he says in a gruff voice.

“you never told me your name.” and logan realizes you're right — he should've introduced himself sometime ago, right? “it’s logan.” he says after sometime of simply staring at you.

“logan.” you repeat and if it was possible he'd melt right there and then because of how gentle you are with speaking his name.

he doesn't expect you to block his entrance when he's heading for the driver's seat. your eyes stare up at him, sparkling and pleading, and logan is a weak man. he curses himself.

“logan.” you moan softly as he kisses your throat while hovering over you in the backseat of his taxi. logan wants nothing more than to take you but he also wants to be slow — to be kind with you. what have you done to him?

he asks your permission for every piece of clothing he wishes to remove and you kiss his face every time for it.

when you're both bare — minus logan’s trousers which simply pool around his ankles — he worships you like no one else has done before.

logan presses passionate and possessive kisses at the center of your throat, then the space between your breasts before going further down. “o-oh.” when his beard scratches against your navel, your whimpers grow louder and he can sense how sensitive you are. he can smell the heat on you too.

“so sweet.” your thighs are on his shoulders as his face disappears between them. your entire body trembles while logan devours the weeping storm in between your legs, his tongue licking at your folds like a starved man before he's wrapping his lips around your clit.

it's a lot and you simply grip his hair while crying out. logan grunts and sucks on that sensitive bud hungrily before sliding his tongue low to your entrance. he gives it a rough lick before pulling away to create some space for his hand.

the slide of his first finger is smooth because you're dripping for him, all over, and he praises himself for holding back.

when he adds the third finger and goes knuckles deep inside you, he feels your gummy walls clenching around him so tight. logan curls his fingers and you shudder, your thighs trembling on top of his shoulders.

“please—” you whimper and he's grinning at you while thrusting his fingers in and out of your hole. the sweat that slowly forms at your nape does not bother you. the only thing bothering you is that logan isn’t fucking you yet — with something more than his fingers.

“please what, sweet girl?” he asks and you draw a sharp breath when he flicks your clit with his tongue while driving his fingers deeper into your pussy.

you flutter around him and whine. “fuck me. please fuck me.”

logan is fixated on your eyes as you straddle him and sink down his cock. you react at the same time, groaning, as the thickness penetrates you and stretches you out endlessly.

you sway your hips once experimentally then twice and you already feel so full.

“logan.” you moan and your hands grip his shoulders for support.

“come ‘ere, sweet girl.” he grumbles and slides both of his hands around your thighs, squeezing them hard.

you're confused at first until he's leaning his face forward and kissing you. there's a fondness in your heart when that beard brushes against your cheeks and you smile before returning the kiss; it's passionate but slow. patient. exactly how you'd been with each other until now.

you do most of the work raising your hips until only the head of his cock is nestled within you and then you fall back down, taking him in deeper than ever. you bounce on his lap and when logan slaps your ass with his hands, your walls tighten around his cock.

he does it again. and again. until he knows your skin has grown tender beneath his hands and aching. he can tell by the way you whimper into his shoulder as you ride him, your buttocks slamming against his hips.

"you on the pill, sweetheart?" logan has to ask for obvious reasons. you nod and his cock throbs inside you as something in him snaps. his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your ass and he slightly raises his hips from the seat as he takes control of the situation. he slams his hips against your own, his heavy balls colliding with your skin. you moan into his shoulder as your body jolts with each thrust you receive below you. "logan!" you sob when the head of his cock assaults your sweet spot repeatedly and his grasp on your asscheeks tightens; you're sure you'll bruise by that type of hold.

logan can't remember the last time he's acted like this; his current age didn't exactly allow him to have fun like he once did. but right now he was going into a frenzy with you, burying his face between your bouncy breasts and licking the space there. his thrusts were rough and hurried, your clit brushing against his pubic hair, the sensation causing your pussy to clench even tighter around his thick girth. "won't last, sweetheart." he warns you and you place your hands on the seat behind him as you start bouncing on his cock again, moving opposite logan's thrusts.

he comes with a growl, his chest vibrating as he does, and you follow right after as your weeping pussy comes around him with a rare tremble. you feel everything; the way he empties himself inside you and slides impossibly deeper as if his solid purpose is to fill your womp with his seed. the way he grows soft inside your cunt and slowly slips his cock out. the way his cum dribbles out of your gaping entrance, probably staining him and the seat. he doesn't care.

"everything alright, sweet girl?" logan asks, one of his hands caressing your buttocks while the other settles over your cheek. you look at him, all spent and pretty, your eyes unable to stay open for long. logan faintly smiles and presses a loving kiss on your forehead while swiping his thumb across your cheek.

"sleepy." you explain in a single word and he hums. you stay still as logan drapes his jacket over you for the second time that night. the heat his body radiates and the gentle rumble of his chest lulls you to sleep. and as that soft caressing on your hair continues, logan contemplates what to buy you for breakfast.

[jezebelblues]

watermelon sugar | h.s

summary: it isn’t about fruit

cw: smut18+, oral (f!receiving) unedited, idk that’s it. there’s like brief mentions of cigarettes/alcohol if that’s an issue

word count: approx 3.7k

| LMFAO okay so here’s something i’ve had in the drafts for a bit. on the lil poll thing the majority of yall voted for smut so here’s a crumb i guess love u

yes it’s 70s!harry. i love u 70rry

masterlist

july 1972

harry knew of YN—a friend of mitch’s, the cousin of a girl he could still taste on his tongue.

she was always in the periphery of his world—not a groupie, not a colleague. she was the girl who held the bubblegum pink lighter to his lips if he couldn’t find his own, the girl who’d offer her red glitter pen if harry lost his black one.

so far, three songs in his notebook were written in sparkly cherry ink.

they met four months ago at a bar in california— his first night on the north american leg of the tour, she'd stood on her tiptoes to hug mitch, congratulating him over and over with a laugh like the fizz of soda on a hot day. harry remembers the scent of her hair when the breeze caught it—peach bubbly and honey. he remembers the crimson lipstick stains on the cigarette she passed him, the faint taste of her fruity cocktail on the filter.

since then, she'd been around. not a fixture, exactly, but something close to it. she didn't sing, didn't play, didn't take up too much space, but she had a knack for fitting into the cracks no one else noticed. sometimes, before a show, she'd twist his hair back just the way he liked it, or she'd swipe a bottle of polish to paint his nails in a shade that matched his shirt.

it was easy, the way she lingered. easy enough that harry never really questioned it.

now, the sucker in her mouth stained her tongue blue. her heart-shaped sunglasses, pink and a little scratched, sat low on the bridge of her nose as the sun painted the roof of the tour bus in a syrupy summer gold. she was stretched out on a towel beside him, humming a tune harry instantly recognized as his own.

he sat cross-legged next to her, the glitter pen—her glitter pen—rolling between his fingers. his notebook balanced on his knee as he scrawled down lyrics, but the words felt sluggish, stuck, like the heavy heat pressing down on them.

YN's hums drifted lazily in the air, quiet enough that the buzz of the bus engine nearly swallowed them up. her eyes were shut tight against the sun's glow, but harry couldn't help stealing glances at her. she looked serene, almost untouched by the heat that had him melting into his jeans.

the cherry-red ink glimmered faintly as he scratched another uneven line into his notebook.

with a sudden pop! she pulled the sucker from her lips and smiled without opening her eyes. "you're staring."

harry didn't flinch. he leaned back slightly and smiled—bunny teeth and dimples. "maybe you're my muse."

her laugh was soft and sharp all at once, the sound of a soda can cracking open. she propped herself up on her elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. "hardly. if i were, you'd have more than that down by now," she teased, nodding toward the page.

harry smirked, his gaze skimming the floral pattern on her bikini bottoms, the curve of her hip. "or maybe you're just a really bad muse."

she kissed her teeth and let herself flop back down against her towel, the movement making her breasts bounce slightly in her top. harry's eyes lingered, just for a beat. she didn't seem to notice-or maybe she did, but didn't care. instead, she nudged his thigh with her toes, the sucker swirling back between her blued lips.

after a moment, she pulled it free and held it out toward him, her pink-painted nails glinting in the sunlight. "want the rest?" she grinned, tilting her head against her shoulder. "it's bubblegum in the middle. your favorite."

harry sighed theatrically, but he leaned in anyway, his butterfly creasing slightly as he plucked the sticky stick from her fingers. he turned it slowly, the blue sugar catching the light, slick with her saliva as he slid it onto his tongue. it was sweet, bright, with the faintest taste of her still lingering underneath.

she watched him with a raised brow, her grin spreading. “will you tell me who kiwis about yet?”

his lips quirked up around the candy. "no."

this was the third time she'd asked in the span of four months. it was her favorite song, or so she claimed.

it was a month prior in chicago. the aragon ballroom. he'd gone early, hours before soundcheck, to roam the venue, let his nerves settle. but that day the stage hadn't been empty. YN had been there, sitting cross-legged on the polished wood, his guitar resting in her lap. her fingers plucked at the strings hesitantly, her brows furrowed in concentration.

she wore a bright yellow bikini top that day, a pair of denim shorts slung low on her hips. the sunlight streaming through the high windows made her skin glow.

he'd stayed quiet as he approached, leaning his arms on the edge of the stage to watch. she jumped slightly when she noticed him, her cheeks flushing.

"move your hand up a bit more," his voice was soft, nodding toward her grip on the neck of the guitar.

she bit her lip, looking down to adjust her fingers. "like this?"

harry nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "press your index finger there. now try."

her cheeks darkened further, but she nodded, her focus snapping back to the strings as she strummed again-hesitant, but closer this time.

her fingers moved carefully along the frets, still hesitant, but with a quiet determination that made harry smile. the melody of kiwi—rough and unpolished—drifted softly through the empty venue, the rawness of it striking something in him. she wasn't bad, not really, but she played like someone who was just beginning to learn—calculated, deliberate, all concentration and no flow.

"it's better," he said after a moment, straightening up to rest his chin on his arms. "but you're still a little off."

she paused, sighing, her lips pressing into a line. "it doesn't sound right."

"you're playing it too clean," he laughed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "y’have to let it be messy, loosen up a bit."

her brows furrowed, and she glanced at him, her cheeks still pink. "messy," she repeated skeptically.

"messy," he confirmed, nodding toward the guitar. "you're trying t’control it too much. let it get away from you a little."

her lips quirked up in a soft laugh as she adjusted her grip on the neck. "easy for you to say, you've been playing since you were, what, twelve?"

"eleven," he corrected, grinning wider. "but who's counting?"

she rolled her eyes but didn't argue, her gaze dropping back to the strings as she tried again. her fingers stumbled at first, the sound of a muted note ringing out across the empty hall, but she pushed through it, letting the rhythm guide her this time. harry watched as her shoulders relaxed, the line of tension in her jaw easing slightly.

"better," he praised after a moment, and her head snapped up, her face lighting up with a cautious kind of pride.

"really?"

he nodded, standing to his full height and dusting his hands against his jeans. "you'll have it down by next week at this rate, sunshine.”

she snorted, shaking her head as she set the guitar carefully to the side. "next week," she repeated, her tone dry. "sure."

"what, no faith in yourself?"

her eyes sparkled as she hopped down from the stage, brushing past him with a grin. "none at all."

harry chuckled, turning to watch her as she headed toward the venue's exit, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. her yellow bikini top gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and the sound of her soft humming lingered in the air long after she disappeared from view.

the song wasn’t about her, no, written long before they’d even met—but it stayed hers in a way he couldn't quite explain. hers like the red glitter pen that sat loosely between his fingers, like the memory of the bubblegum sucker on his tongue, like the faint scent of peach and honey still imprinted in his mind.

he let the notebook fall shut and leaned back against the roof of the bus, the sun beating down on his face. beside him, YN shifted lazily, her hand reaching out to tug the sunglasses from her nose and push them up into her hair.

“you’ll tell me one of these days, harry styles.”

he didn't answer, just let his eyes drift shut, a soft smile curling at the edges of his lips.

YN huffed dramatically, flopping onto her side to face him. The towel beneath her crinkled, and the faint scent of sunscreen mixed with the lingering sugar on her breath. “you can’t just smile at me, harry. it’s not fair.”

he peeked one eye open, his grin widening. “fair’s got nothing to do with it.”

“don’t be annoying.” she poked his chest, her nail grazing the inked swallow on his skin. “you can’t write a song like that and then act all mysterious. it’s cruel. is it about someone you dated? someone you wanted to date? tell me something.”

he pushed himself up onto one elbow, the glitter pen rolling off his notebook and landing in the crease of the towel. “and ruin the fun of you guessing every chance you get?”

she groaned, rolling onto her back again and flinging an arm over her face. her sunglasses slipped slightly in her hair, catching the sunlight. “you’re the worst,” she mumbled.

he laughed, soft and low, and let his gaze wander over her—the curve of her shoulder, the way the waistband of her bottoms dug into her hips just enough to make him wonder how her skin might feel under his thumb. “but you keep coming back,” he teased.

“not by choice,” she shot back, her voice muffled by her arm.

he leaned closer, the pendant around his neck glinting as it swung forward. “is that so?”

her arm fell away from her face, and she squinted up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. “mitch dragged me along,” she said breezily. “i just wanted to see california. maybe get a tan. didn’t realize i’d be stuck with a rock star who thinks he’s god’s gift to songwriting.”

“a rock star, huh?” he echoed, smirking. “that what i am to you?”

her brows arched, her lips quirking into something smug. “what else would you be?”

harry didn’t answer right away. the silence stretched between them, thick and warm, broken only by the hum of the bus and the distant buzz of cicadas. YN held his gaze, unflinching, and for a moment, harry felt a pull in his chest—something slow, something sharp.

finally, he reached for her abandoned sucker, still sticky and shining faintly blue. he popped it into his mouth, smirking around it as he settled back onto the towel.

“god’s gift to songwriting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

her laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, and harry closed his eyes, letting the sound soak into him like sunlight.

YN’s laugh faded into a hum as she sat up, legs tucked beneath her, her knees brushing against harry’s thigh. her hand hovered over his notebook, tapping the edge lightly with her fingernail.

“what’s this one about?” she asked, her tone softer now, less teasing.

harry cracked one eye open, the sucker shifting lazily against his cheek. “why d’you always ask questions you know i won’t answer?”

“maybe because i know you’ll give me something, eventually.” she tilted her head, her fingers trailing along the notebook’s cover. “or maybe i just like annoying you.”

“you’re good at it.”

“thank you,” she said sweetly, ignoring his smirk. she flipped the notebook open, her eyes skimming over the half-finished lines written in that unmistakable cherry-red ink. “you’ve been stuck on this one for a while, huh?”

harry sat up, propping himself on one elbow and leaning close enough that her hair brushed his arm. “what makes you say that?”

“the way you’re chewing that sucker like it owes you money,” she teased, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “plus, there’s about three crossed-out lines on every page.”

he sighed, plucking the sucker from his mouth and tossing it into a paper cup near his feet. “some songs take longer than others.”

“and some songs,” she said, grinning as she tapped the glitter pen against the page, “are about a certain someone you refuse to talk about.”

harry laughed, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “you’re obsessed, you know that?”

“just curious.” she rested her chin in her hand, her pink sunglasses slipping down her nose again. “what’s the line you’re stuck on?”

he hesitated for a moment, then reached out to turn the page. “this one.” he pointed to a scribbled-out verse near the bottom, the ink thick and smudged where he’d pressed too hard.

YN’s eyes narrowed as she leaned closer, the scent of her sunscreen warm and sweet. “hmm. it’s… cryptic. you’re trying too hard.”

“oh, am i?” harry raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

she nodded, pulling the pen from his hand and spinning it between her fingers. “you need to stop thinking so much. write what you actually want to say, not what you think you’re supposed to.”

“and what do i want to say?”

she smiled, tilting her head at him. “how would i know? it’s your song.”

he held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing edge in her voice softening. his eyes flicked down to the pen in her hand, then back up to her face. “what if you’re the one i’m writing about?”

her breath hitched—just for a second, just barely enough for harry to notice. then she laughed, light and easy, her fingers tapping the notebook again. “then i guess i’m an even worse muse than i thought.”

“terrible,” harry agreed, his voice warm with something deeper, something he wasn’t sure he wanted her to catch.

YN didn’t move away, still perched close enough that her knee brushed against his. She let her fingers trail along the edges of the notebook again. She flipped a page, then another, her curiosity pulling her deeper into the sprawl of his unfinished songs and fragmented verses.

“you really don’t use normal pens anymore, do you?” she said, watching the way the glittery ink shimmered against the light.

“don’t need to,” he muttered without looking up. “not when you keep leaving these everywhere.”

“it’s a service, really,” she teased, flipping another page. “you’re welcome.”

her tone was light, but her fingers slowed as she scanned the next page. the handwriting was messier, more hurried, as if the words had come all at once and left no time for polish.

YN’s fingers hovered over the page, her eyes catching on the title underlined twice in red—watermelon sugar.

“what’s this one?” she asked, tilting the notebook toward herself as she scanned the uneven handwriting.

harry froze, “it’s nothing,” he said quickly, but the tension in his voice was hard to miss.

she arched an eyebrow, flipping the notebook to face her fully. “doesn’t look like nothing.” she read the first line aloud, her tone curious. “tastes like strawberries on a summer evening.”

harry leaned over, his fingers brushing hers as he tried to tug the notebook away. “YN, seriously—”

“hold on,” she interrupted, pulling it back toward her chest, her grin widening as she flipped to the next line. “and it sounds just like a song,” she read, her voice lilting in amusement. “you’re getting poetic on me, harry.”

“it’s not finished,” he muttered, sitting back against the towel, his jaw tight as he ran a hand through his curls.

“yeah, i can see that,” she said, tapping the page with her fingernail. “but what’s it about? strawberries? watermelon? a fruit salad?”

harry let out a sharp laugh, but there was something uneasy in the way his eyes flicked to hers. “something like that.”

YN squinted at him, her smile softening as she studied the lyrics again. “it’s… sweet,” she murmured, her tone thoughtful now. “like—” she paused, glancing up at him. “like a crush. isn’t it?”

his mouth opened, then closed again. for a moment, he looked almost caught—like she’d stumbled onto something he hadn’t meant to share. finally, he shrugged, his fingers fidgeting with the cross between his swallows. “it’s about… a feeling,” he said carefully.

“what kind of feeling?” she pressed, tilting her head.

he hesitated, his gaze darting between the notebook and her face. “just… something good. something warm.”

YN rolled her eyes, her teasing smile back in place. “you’re being annoyingly vague. is it about someone? or are you just really passionate about fruit now?”

harry exhaled a laugh, but he didn’t answer right away. instead, his gaze lingered on her, quiet and unreadable, before he finally shrugged again. “do y’want me t’show you?”

her teasing smile faded, curiosity dancing across her features. “show me?” she echoed, her voice gentler now, uncertain.

he nodded, shifting closer. the notebook was forgotten as his fingers brushed along its spine, pushing it aside. his eyes swept over her face slowly, studying the way her cheeks were flushed from the sun, the way her lips parted as if she wanted to ask something but had forgotten how.

his hands rested near her hips, the towel wrinkling under his palms. he leaned in, close enough that his breath was cool against her lips. "it's not about fruit," he breathed, his voice barely more than a rasp.

she blinked, her pulse skittering in her chest as her eyes flicked between his. "i... kinda figured," she whispered, her tone shaky, but her gaze steady.

his lips twitched, a soft breath of laughter escaping through his nose. "do you trust me?"

her eyes dipped, lingering on the curve of his strawberry-red lips. the weight of the moment pressed against her, electric and unyielding. "just show me, harry."

he didn't hesitate after that. his hands settled on her hips, warm and firm, as he guided her flat onto the towel. the sun hung heavy in the sky, draping them in a creamsicle haze, but all she could focus on was him—his weight, his touch, the way his curls fell forward as he hovered over her.

his ring clad fingers drifted to her thighs, palms flat along the insides as he spread her apart. the tip of his nose grazed the gusset of her bikini bottoms over to the flesh of her thigh right against his thumb. he pressed soft kisses into the skin, nipping at it gently to watch her chest rise from a gasp.

his lips trailed like the sticky sweetness of honey dripping down her skin, closer to her center, each kiss slow and warm.

he paused, his nose brushing against her clit still covered by fabric, but he could still feel her heat radiating through it. “still with me?”

she nodded, her heartbeat everywhere but her chest. “please, harry.”

he smirked, his fingers hooking underneath the bottoms, his touch feather-light as he slid them down. the movement felt slow, intentional, every second stretching out as the anticipation buzzed through her like electricity.

her arousal glistened in the sunlight—a bright peach dripping with water in the georgia heat. he laid flat on his stomach, arms looping behind her knees and pulling her thighs apart. he breathed her in, lips grazing alongside her folds before he pressed soft kisses into her.

she was sunshine, she was rock and roll, she seeped nectar and smelt like champagne—he wanted to take his time.

he kissed right into her heat, his lips slick with the remnants of her, causing her tummy to flip. he drank her in, sliding his tongue up until he could make slow swirls around her clit. it sent a jolt through her, a sensation so vivid it left her gasping.

she clutched the towel beneath her, head tipping back as the sounds of summer—cicadas in the distance, trees shaking in warm breeze, the hum of the engine—faded into the background.

he took her bud between his lips greedily, suckling gently and flicking the tip of his tongue against her. his grip on her thighs tightened as he pushed himself father into her, drawing soft, breathy moans from her throat.

he tilted his head, cheek flat against the space between where her thigh and cunt met. he lapped at her pussy, slow and languid strokes as he gazed up at her through his eyelashes.

“like sugar.” he mumbled against her, the reverberation causing her fingers to tangle themselves in his curls, her hips bucking against his face.

he smiled, pulling her down flat against the towel, burying himself deeper into her. she would tug on his curls every time he moaned against her folds. she’d push up against his hands every time he’d shake his head between her thighs, coaxing whimpers to fall from her lips.

he pulled her thighs over his shoulders, his nose brushing against her clit as he buried his tongue into her hole, tasting every drop, drinking in the way she’d clench around his tongue.

her cheeks flushed, words caught in her throat as he found his rhythm, his large hands holding her steady. his tongue moved like he was writing lyrics, every motion a verse, every pause a chorus.

she felt herself unraveling, her body tensing as she drew her higher and higher, the knot in her core overwhelming and intoxicating. she was an unrelenting sea, pressure, thrashing and trembles until the wave finally broke—gasping his name, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as her back arched.

he didn’t stop, relishing in the way she slid across his tongue, easing her though the aftershocks. his hands trailed from her thighs to her waist as she sagged back down against the towel, her chest heaving, fingers still threaded through his hair.

he pulled back slowly, a string of her release and his saliva snapping from the departure. he kissed up her naval, lips glistening in the sunlight, his chin soaked.

he smiled, resting onto his forearms as he hovered over her. “showed you, just like y’wanted. right, needy girl?”

YN blinked, her breath still catching as her body buzzed with the lingering warmth of him. she hummed, nodding.

his dimples deepened as he brushed his thumb along her bottom lip. “good,” he mumbled, pulling her lips apart as he leaned in. she could taste herself on him, sweet and heady, fruit and warmed by the sun.

he leaned his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching. “but if you need me to explain it again,” he hummed, kissing her once more. “i’ve got time, sunshine.”

[rafesangelita]

what do you think would be in each !reader's bags?! <3

₊˚⊹♡ bambi!reader:

the queen of trinkets!! she carries a little sylvanian families’ figurine that reminds her of rafe, two little vials that contain the flowers rafe first picked for her, vanilla lipbalm, her favorite book, a jar full of buttons she swears up and down will come in handy one day (she’s always using them to replace the buttons on rafe’s shirts), change she’s found on the ground, necklace pendant that she lost the chain to, strawberry coin pouch that she ironically doesn’t put to use, earbuds, a little note rafe gave her from when they first started dating, hairbrush, brown floral hair pins, and perfume

₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader:

lover of all things pink, she carries a pink compact mirror and pressed powder, a small notebook so she could write down orders for anyone who might ask, mini pink hair brush, strawberry shortcake flavored lip gloss (rafe’s personal fave), cardholder that rafe gifted her, cable lock to her camper (rafe is getting the actual lock on her door replaced soon), chocolate macaroon coin pouch she bought from the thrift, pink hairclips, sparkly nail polish, individually wrapped cookies that she gives out (despite rafe eating most of them), silver locket with a picture of her and rafe together <3, a rosary even though she’s not religious she keeps it bc the church she donated baked goods to gave it to her, a dollar folded in the shape of a heart that rafe made for her, vanilla perfume, and her favorite blush

₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader:

our chanel girly <3 she carries a digital camera that rafe can never escape from (he loves it), rhode lip treatment is a must have, small notebook so she could journal wherever she is (and repeatedly write rafe’s name in cursive with a heart at the end), black chanel headband that rafe randomly surprised her with, small makeup bag with all of her essentials, cuticle oil and hand cream so her mani’s always look fresh, polaroid of rafe bc she loves him soooo much, reading glasses, dior keychain (rafe got ‘sweetheart’ engraved on the back), bobby pins because she NEVER has a hair out of place, diy queen has a little altoids box wallet, mascara of course, and a hair bow!

₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader:

this firecracker carries a pack of marlboro reds (they belong to rafe), her and rafe’s love letters when they had to hide their relationship from her daddy, heart shaped sunglasses of course, a vintage camera that she has no idea how the thing still works, her signature red lipstick, her red apple mascara that she swears by, peppermints because she’s an old soul at heart, a little mixtape that both her and rafe made together so they have something to listen to when they go on their evening drives, red nail polish, bottle caps from her and rafe’s first date, a multi-purpose pocket knife (she can never be too prepared), a wallet that’s older than her, cherry cola lipgloss, a pocket watch her dad gave to her, red gingham hair bow, her fav lana del rey cd (rafe also knows the lyrics word for word), and a box of matches.

₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader:

our sweet angelita carries body glitter (which always ends up rubbing off on rafe), tropical scented perfume, floral hair clips, ALWAYS keeps a pair of sandals to change into when her heels become insufferable, a gifted dior wallet from rafe <3, a seashell that rafe picked up for her, fruity lipgloss, shimmery tanning oil and sunscreen (for rafe mainly lol), traditional fan, pink dior sunglasses, dior highlighter palette, various jewelry, SOMETIMES she’ll pack fruit for her and rafe to snack on when they on an impromptu beach date..

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader:

kildare’s very own regina george carries a powder puff, her signature eyeshadow palette, victoria’s secret card (rafe keeps it loaded at all times), vivienne westwood lighter (for when her and rafe have their little smoke sessions), poison dior perfume that rafe goes absolutely crazy for, dior lip oil, her lucky vintage chanel charm bracelet, touchland hand sanitizer, hair clips, black compact mirror, and a mini makeup bag.

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!pogue!reader:

this mcbling queen carries her childhood ipod with all of the early 2000’s hits downloaded on it, some earbuds, a flip phone that she uses as her ‘work cell’ (rafe helped her bedazzle it), a hello kitty mirror so she could make sure her makeup is always looking fresh, hello kitty credit card (courtesy of rafe, of course), a stack of her own cash, fluffy tiara she keeps forgetting to take out of her purse, rhinestones she uses as body stickers, pink digital camera (rafe takes all of her insta pics with it), sunglasses she found at the thrift, a vape (she’s just a girl), sparkly lipgloss, and her favorite lashes.

₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader:

the gentlest thing on kildare island carries a crochet case that she made by herself (she crochets on the golf cart while rafe and topper play on the course), a precious moments figurine, a small tub of cookies for the kids, lemon scented hand cream, patches that she still needs to sew on a pair of jeans, an envelope with rafe’s recent love letter (he writes them everyday and sends them through the mail to be ‘extra’ romantic), a calico critter that was gifted to you from one of the kids at the daycare center you volunteered at once, your fav pink teddy bear, homemade hair bow, a sun hat, and a strip of pictures rafe took at the mall.

[anonymousicecream]

Yes Mommy (Irene x M Reader)

Day 22: Mommy Kink

"On the bed, NOW." You get on the bed, following the orders of Mommy Irene. "HANDS, NOW." You offered her your hands, before she harshly pushed it onto the bed post, handcuffing you immediately. "Who said that you could go out at night, until 3 in the morning?" Joohyun asked as she hovered over your body, slowly unbuttoning her jeans.

"Y-Y" Before you could finish the word, she slapped your face. "Answer me." "N-No one, No one mommy." "Exactly, so why did you go out?" Joohyun asked, this time more gently. However, since you're out of words, to explain your night out, she slapped you again, on both cheeks this time. "Talk." "J-Jaehyun invited me out. He said he wants to party with me, Sehun, Seulgi and Sooyoung." She then slapped you again before walking away, leaving you rattling your hands against the handcuffs, trying to breakfree.

It didn't take much longer before she returned. However, the sight in front of you shocked you, as you watch her in black bra with a skirt and no panties, with cherry red lipstick on her lips.

Joohyun then got onto you, removing your boxers and tearing your shirt apart, before she aligns herself with your cock. After a few rounds of teasing your tip on her entrance, she lowers herself on your cock. "Hmmmmhhhh fuck you're so big." She says as she wraps her arms around your neck. It would be a crime to say that it didn't work you up because all you could feel was her tightness and wetness, dripping down your cock.

"You know, if you actually came home last night, I was willing to let you have your way on bed." Joohyun's words peaked your attention, making you huff in regret. "I would've let you pound my mouth, before going down into my pussy, and then into my ass. I'll let you fill it up." She then starts to ride you slowly, letting you feel her juices and her tightness. "F-Fuck, you're so tight."

You were shocked at the sudden slap she gave you. "You're so tight mommy, and I love it." Joohyun smirks before she starts riding you faster. It took her no time before she treats you as your personal cockslave, riding your mercilessly, not giving care on your pleasure whatsoever. "F-Fuck yes mommy, faster please." Joohyun instead slowed down her pace, before she starts grinding your cock with your cock deep inside her pussy. It took her a few moments before she fully stops grinding you and got off your cock.

"Why?" She didn't reply besides getting onto your face, resting her pussy on your lips. You immediately leaned up to lick her pussy, gliding your tongue up her entrance. It took you a few moments before you start sucking her entrance, earning a moan from her. You continue your actions for a few moments before opting to enter your tongue into her pussy. This generated the same reaction from her as her moans got louder.

After a few minutes of you sucking her, you started feeling more of her juices leaking. "Fuck I'm close." "Cum. Just cum mommy." She replied by headlocking you with her thighs, choking you slightly but instead making you suck her faster. This produced an insane wave of orgasm as she came, squirting her juices hard onto your face. 'Holy fuck." Joohyun turned breathless after her orgasm, before she got off you and redressed herself into a black kimono.

"Bad boys don't get to cum."

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

��Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s�� together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[sageispunk]

red lipstick (18+)

↳ "Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life"

pairing: Maintenance Man! Terry Richmond x blackOC! Alisha Bryce

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (m receiving), use of handcuffs, switch! Terry & OC, Daddy kink, lipstick kink, messy bjs, pouty desperate!Terry bc I wanted to

A/N: this is like basically a random part for this AU I've been fixated on for a minute, still not sure if I want to do chronological series or just a bunch of loosely connected oneshots but I'll figure that out l8rrrrr!!! lmk in the comments if you enjoyed this, also pls like + reblog, feel free to follow my notif blog @sageispunklibrary for updates!!!

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” 

Alisha kept her gaze on the man, down on her knees in the fancy, red, low-cut dinner dress he’d bought for tonight. The lights were low and her mouth was full, throat nearly stuffed with her lover’s manhood. He sat on her sofa, leaned back with his bare thighs spread apart on the orange velvet, one arm thrown across the back as if he owned the place. 

Terry was big–thick and long, unforgiving. She held her hands together down in front of her, wrists bound together by the fuzzy black cuffs he found while peeking through her nightstand drawer earlier in the day, as new as the day she bought them. 

She hummed as she took most of him down her throat, leaving only about an inch of his warm brown skin exposed to the chilled air. She could tell that wasn’t enough for Terry, not right now at least. He was desperate, aching for a release and she would be just that. 

She felt his hand on the back of her head loosely tangle itself in her long brown locs, fingertips lightly massaging into her scalp. With a sigh from her nose, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself, allowing him to stroke his hips up into her throat, bringing her precious cherry-tinted lips just a little closer to his base each time. Saliva dribbled out from the corners of her mouth, dripping down off her chin and onto his heavy balls. She could feel her thighs sticking together, the heat between them building with each passing second. 

“You can do it, mama…take Daddy’s dick down that throat…”

His sweet, daunting voice echoed in her mind, keeping her grounded in the moment. She loved it when he talked to her like this, so rough and dominating–manly. Not to mention using the handcuffs that had been sitting in her drawer for months, brand new and awaiting the perfect opportunity. Now, her dreams were being fulfilled. It was everything she was missing with Isaiah, and that fact only made her more eager to please him, pushing herself to her limits every time they fucked, and then some. 

“Look at me, Lisha.” 

Terry watched as she obeyed his command, breathless as he took in the scene before him. This perfect, nasty, brown-eyed beauty kneeling for him, worshiping his dick like it was all she’d ever needed. All that consumed her mind, day and night. He knew that it was, the same feelings growing within her and dictating her every move, he felt in himself. They were on the same level again, and he’d be damned if another motherfucker got in between them after this. 

He couldn’t help the moans that evaded him as she finally throated his entire length, not breaking eye contact as she nuzzled her nose into his trimmed pubes. For over twelve years, the man’s life had been structured around maintaining self-control and mental strength, but there was nothing or no one on this planet that made him feel as weak as Alisha did in this very moment. 

His bottom lip found itself clenched tightly between his pearly whites, a crease growing between his eyebrows while he took everything she gave him. She pulled up off his dick, slowly sliding back up with red lips, glossy with spit and precum.

“I missed you.” 

Alisha didn’t plan to say those words, but her nerves were soothed when he reciprocated the statement, his gruff voice hitting her ears and vibrating through her chest. She loved the strain in his voice, in his eyes, knowing that she had his tough exterior breaking down made her feel…powerful. On top of the world. 

Terry’s other hand came to her cheek, caressing her gently as he stared into her eyes, slightly pouting at the sight of his rock hard dick standing up right next to her face. 

He subconsciously made it jump, stealing her attention away. She watched it twitch in front of her, a hungry look growing in her dark eyes as her mouth watered. She needed to feel him stretch her again, her lips, her jaw, her throat. She just needed him inside again. 

Alisha leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out, licking a slow trail up the vein on the underside of his dick. She circled the tip of her tongue around the throbbing head, specifically avoiding his needy, leaking hole. Terry groaned from above, losing his restraint the more she avoided his most sensitive spot. His head was filled with nothing but echoes of pleas, anguished cries for her to relieve him. All he needed was her tongue. 

She smiled, watching his thighs flex and feeling the grip of his fingers tighten in her roots. She pressed her lips against the tip,  firm enough to leave a smudge of red lipstick against the brown flesh. A mark of her love. Craning her neck down, she aimed for a new spot: his balls, heavy and full of cum that he’d reserved for her and her only. Over three weeks apart and he found that nothing matched his freak quite like she did…not even his own hand would suffice.

Terry bucked his hips up when he felt her soft, sticky lips on his sack, leaving yet another beautiful stain. “Lishaaa, fuck!” 

He was supposed to be the one in charge at this moment, yet he felt like he had the least power, even with Alisha in handcuffs. He threw his head back, a loud groan escaping his lips as he found himself writhing, unable to take the teasing. This girl had his goddamn toes curling just from kissing on his balls. 

“Look at me, Terry.” 

Her sweet voice met his ears, gentle and delicate, with a hint of deception laced into her words. He returned his gaze to the woman, seeking some sort of solace in her deep brown orbs. As big and tough as he was, he was not prepared at all for how Alisha wanted to play with him tonight. For the last couple weeks, all he’d fantasized about was breaking her down all across her place…leaving his mark on her, in her, all around her. 

But here she was, beating him right to it. 

Alisha sat up on her knees a bit, not bothering to fix the cleavage spilling from her dress before leaning forward to plant her lips on the skin near his hip. They both stared at her nearly perfect lip print, eyes low and full of want. “Baby–”

“Take these cuffs off me, Terry. Let me take care of you like you take care of me, please.” 

Terry paused, searching her eyes for any hints of mischief but he came up short. Sitting forward on the sofa, he brought his hands down in between them, pulling hers up into his lap. He clasped both her wrists with his left hand, using his right to take his chain off, a shiny silver key dangling in front of her greedy eyes like the world’s last golden ticket. 

It was as if time slowed down, the air seemed thick and heavy, a cloud of desire extinguishing any sense of hesitation in the pair. They both watched as the key slid inside, twisting and releasing the lock with a soft click. The cuffs fell to the floor but Alisha’s hands remained, suspended in his hold. Terry’s eyes came back up to meet hers, intense and unrelenting as he pulled her closer. 

He swallowed down her gasp when their lips met, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished in both the softness and the slight taste of himself. Terry’s tongue wriggled into her mouth, passionately dancing with hers in a battle for dominance. They moaned into one another, lips melding together seamlessly, a reminder of how perfect they are together. 

Alisha pulled her hands from his grasp, slowly so as not to be noticed. Her slender fingers found his length, stiff and weeping for her. A thumb lightly tapped the stickiness on the head, and she grinned into the kiss at his sudden twitching. She rubbed light circles on it, attentive to the way his mouth began to fall open as she pulled back from the kiss, not bothering to slow her movements on his delicate tip. Her left hand fell back to his balls, holding them and only slightly squeezing the warm sack in her palm, just as she’d wanted to earlier.

“Does that feel good?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but she caught it. Just as well as she caught the quiver in his bottom lip when she squeezed just a bit tighter. 

She kneeled down between his thighs again, bringing her face back closer to what she’d needed most. Not wanting to waste anymore time keeping him on the edge, she dived in, removing her thumb and replacing it with her hot tongue. She reached her right hand up to one of his small brown nipples, rubbing his own stickiness from her thumb into the hardened bud. Terry’s body jerked up, attempting to crumble in on itself while her hungry tongue swirled around his tip. “Ohh shiiiiitttt, Lish, please, fuck!”

Her head dropped into his lap, her other hand coming up to rest on his thigh while his dick slid into her throat with much more ease than before. She bobbed up and down, savoring his taste on her tongue and his cries in her ears. She felt so in control, taking him down to the hilt each time, moaning and drooling around his thickness like a slut. 

“Baby, that shit feels–mmmm–so motherfuckin’ good, I swear to god…” Terry groaned out, his brain growing fuzzier while she went down on him like she’d been starving for his dick. She gagged and slurped and hummed around him, all the while looking up at him with those perfect, teary eyes– like a wet dream come to life. His big hands gripped the edges of the sofa while he tried to hold on to the little bit of self-control he had left.

Alisha came up once more, letting him fall out of her mouth before she refocused her attention on his balls. Both hands wrapped around his dick, steadily jerking him as she sucked and licked on his sack, not caring to wipe away the spit across her cheeks and chin. She was being messy and nasty and she didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing herself because she knew that Terry was loving this side of her as much as she did. 

He palmed his face, cursing under his breath as he felt himself at the edge once again. His legs trembled as he tried to hold on, to savor the feeling of her hands and her mouth on him again after so long. There was nothing he needed more but to be surrounded in her warmth, physically and emotionally. He longed to be this close to her, this vulnerable with her, always. 

She released his balls with a gentle pop!, continuing to jerk him off with both hands from the base to the tip. “Cum for me, daddy…” She stared i​nto his eyes, finding herself lost in them, in him. “I need to taste you, please.”

Terry relaxed as her soft whispers hit his ears, the combination of her dirty words and the yearning that was revealed in her eyes helping him over that peak. “Lisha, I’m–” 

She quickly put her mouth on the head as he tensed up underneath her, both his cries and her moans filling the room. The taste of his nut on her tongue had her nearly cumming herself, her thighs subconsciously grinding together as she listened to his whining above. 

“Oh my god, ohmyfucking–fuckkkk…” Terry’s usual rough, baritone voice was higher now, sweet and shaky as he panted out and emptied himself in her. His vision was teary but he tried to stay focused on Alisha between his thighs. She took everything that he gave her, slowing her hands down on his dick while swallowing down nearly every drop of his seed. The filthiest image of tonight seared itself into his mind when she smiled up at him, licking the spare cum off her fingers with more smeared on her plump pink lips. 

She giggled softly, watching the big man come back down to Earth, his dick softening back to its usual form. His gaze was soft now, the love he felt for her shining right through his long eyelashes. As the intensity of the moment calmed down, she became more aware of her sore knees on the carpet, but especially her bare, aching pussy underneath her dress. Terry noticed her shifting and immediately straightened up, leaning forward to pull her up into his lap. “C’mere, love..” She sat on his left thigh with her legs stretched out across his right, burying her face into his neck. “You did a good job, baby…made me feel so good, thank you.” 

He spoke his praises into her hair in between kisses, rubbing a large hand up and down her exposed back. She sunk into the feeling, head still hazy but paying more attention now to what her body craved from him. Terry gently laced his fingers in her locs, pulling back to find her eyes again. 

“You gon’ let me take care of you now?”

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @uniqueoutlierblog @notapradagurl7

@planetblaque @urfavblackbimbo @brattyfics @hotmessexpressssss

@soft-persephone @blowmymbackout @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@wakandamama @avoidthings @mzindependent

(lmk if u wanna be added/removed from this, i just went through my other terry fic rbs)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[heartlilith]

WHAT THE VENUS SIGNS REMIND ME OF

🩷Oddly specific things I think about when I hear ______ venus

Aries Venus: Summer, rubies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, rollercoasters, fast cars, the color red, vampire fangs, Saturday nights, liquor stores and gas stations, fireworks, sour candy, cool bic lighters, “you’re mine”, Mario Kart, boys who wear nail polish, fuck it energy, oversized sweatshirts, middle finger emoji, cherries

Taurus Venus: Satin pillowcases, white candles, pearls, mirrors, hand holding, walking someone home at night, vinyls, red lipstick, full lips, fancy dinner dates, the wine and dine, old romantic movies, wallets and purses, hotels, French manicures, old money, “I won’t get on my knees for no man”

Gemini Venus: Driving around at night listening to music, reading to someone, comedy shows, mimosas, Samantha from Sex and the City, libraries, nerd kink, hot teachers/student kink, emerald green, laughter, swing sets, looking out of the window and just watching, untied shoelaces, dogs and puppies, dad jokes

Cancer Venus: Soft feather pillows, a bowl of warm soup, a bubble bath, tears and running mascara, babies and how babies laugh, poetry, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, hot tubs, hot coffee, teddy bears, heartbeats, soft hands & skin, lotion, bagels and cream cheese, doodling in your journal

Leo Venus: Lip gloss, mojitos, getting drunk at brunch, diamond tennis bracelets, drunk texts you regret sending later, the block button, lonely nights, shooting stars, blowing bubbles, piggy back rides, art museums, glittery eyeshadow, jumparoos, birthday parties

Virgo Venus: Taking a shower, Dove soap, smooth skin, symmetry, butterflies, the smell of books, getting a facial or going to the spa, chicken caesar salads, the good tasting water, chunky headphones, acoustic guitar, running errands, getting your eyebrows done, neat handwriting, neutral colors, sushi

Libra Venus: Blush, dimples, Y2K fashion, Hello Kitty, makeup skills, those little hand mirrors, princes and princesses, cupcakes, pedicures, Margaritas, taking pictures, art, castles, Disney movies, daisies, spin the bottle, cartwheels, soft hair, bubblegum, skincare, watermelon and pineapple

Scorpio Venus: Psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, Kings & Queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, Avril Lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history

Sagittarius Venus: Clouds, rock climbing, rappers, Hip Hop and R&B, going on vacation, açaí bowls and fresh fruit, sun kissed/radiant skin, the color yellow, retreats, history, yoga and Pilates, spicy food, “it is what it is”, curly hair, the smell of weed, casinos, the last day of school, Las Vegas

Capricorn Venus: Leather, red wine, the cow pattern, cowgirl boots, the color brown, espresso, dark chocolate, briefcase of money like in the movies, the movie Scarface, whiskey on the rocks, bosses, owls, turtle necks, caramel, wearing suits, lingerie, business, New York City

Aquarius Venus: Lightbulbs, telescopes and microscopes, LED lights, hamsters, college parties, glitter, peace signs, 70s concerts, food trucks, skipping school, “fuck it”, diving in the pool, the beach at night, disco balls, getting detentions in school

Pisces Venus: Mermaids, kittens, cartoons and Disney princesses, champagne, Webkinz, little kid stories like Goldilocks, 3 Little Pigs, Hansel and Gretel, clear glittery lip gloss, holographic, snowmen and icicles, swimming in the pool, flower gardens, glow sticks , picnics, bumblebees, sand castles, elementary art class, 3D movies

Book a Reading 🩷

Masterlist 🩷

[lockefanfic]

Polaroid

The following is Chapter 11 in the Toy series, but it can (mostly) be read on its own. 🙂

12,713 words.

---

Exhibit 1: Central is a young woman’s (Subject A) open mouth. Subject A’s lips are glossy, slick - with cherry red lipstick and a thick, semi-transparent pale white liquid. Given the contextual clues in the photo, this liquid is likely semen. More of the substance stains the lower part of her face, running down her chin in thick streams. Her exposed tongue reveals more of it coating her mouth. A thick rivulet of semen drips onto her palette from the top of the picture, where another woman’s (Subject B) lips are barely seen. The rope of semen joins the mouths of Subjects A and B.

---

It’s in the middle of it all that come to a realization: what was playing out in front of you was no longer surprising.

There was a time when seeing something so lewd, so utterly ridiculous in its depravity, would shock you. And for the first few months of your new job, when you found yourself in similar circumstances, that feeling would come without fail. Each and every day seemed to bring more and more ludicrous experiences. How could anyone not be shocked by what you saw, heard, and felt since Chaeyoung and Momo picked you out of the crowd at the concert all those months ago? 

But it was in that moment, some time past midnight, as you sat on what was probably a ludicrously expensive couch in the corner of the penthouse suite of one of the highest-end hotels in Singapore, that you realized the absence of that once-familiar feeling.

That was not to say that you weren’t aroused by the whole thing - of course not, quite the opposite in fact, if the erection you were sporting were any indication. You didn’t think you’d ever tire of seeing what you saw, hearing what you heard, feeling what you felt. Rather, you just weren’t surprised by it in the same way you used to be. It was just another day in a string of days that felt like your wildest dreams come true.

But when every day was so wild, then really, no days were wild, were they?

A sharp moan stirs you from the intense personal epiphany you were having in the corner of the hotel room. On the bed, not twenty feet from you, the third man in the room slips his cock inside Myoui Mina’s slick, dripping pussy from behind.

Mina lets her mouth slip from the stiff cock that filled it a moment before. There is a brief moment of pleasant surprise on her delicate features as she is filled, stretched, her body quickly accepting and accommodating the thick shaft that had just entered her. The moment is short, fleeting. The look of serious determination that she sported moments before returns, as does her mouth to the slick, glistening cock in front of her face.

Myoui Mina was often shy, reserved, introverted. Her public and private personas were much the same; this was a young woman who enjoyed quiet weekends at home building lego or grinding away at an MMORPG. She attended fashion weeks and other appearances like the other girls, of course, but you knew she only did so because it was in her contract, and it paid her - she had little actual interest for the clothes she was shilling or the scripted comedy she and the girls were playing out.

But during sex - and especially during sex when multiple males were involved - she was another person entirely: forceful, dominant, assertive. In control, of herself and those lucky enough to share a bed with her.

The two men who currently had that honor - you had no idea who they were and the girls had insisted that you didn’t need to worry about them - begin to fuck Mina from both ends. Her body - that slim, delicate, almost fragile body of hers, covered as it was in sweat and spit - is rocked back and forth, back and forth atop the high-end bed and the expensive-looking but already soiled sheets that covered it. Soon she settles into a rhythm, timing the movements of her body so the cock in her mouth hits the back of her throat just as the one in her cunt fills her to the hilt.

She moans around the cock between her lips. The two men grunt and sigh. Slick flesh slaps against slick flesh. Sex fills the room, pervades every moment that passes.

There was a time in your life when seeing such a sight play out in front of you was the stuff of dreams, of lonely nights with a picture, video, or smutty story from the darker parts of the internet. And here it was - playing out in real life, right in front of you. Just another sight, another memory being made to sit amongst the many hundreds that had filled the most memorable time of your life.

“Jesus, fuck,” Chaeyoung hisses. She is lying next to you on the couch, as naked as you are, watching, as she often did. She loved to watch. She loved being fucked, of course, but she loved watching others get fucked just as much, if not more - if nothing else because of what she got to do with them afterwards.

You have one arm wrapped around her shoulders. It slides down her upper chest to cup a small, round breast. She sighs as you capture her nipple, moans as you twist the piercing atop it, softly but firmly. Enough to make sure she felt it, but not enough to really hurt her. You knew well by now just how much she could take before the delicious spikes of pain became unbearable. You quickly found that she loved the pain, excited her almost as much as a kiss or touch.

You can’t exactly tear your eyes from the spectacle playing out on the bed in front of you, but out of the corner of your eye you watch the young woman in your arms begin to finger the needy flesh between her own legs. She makes no attempt to hide it, even swinging a leg out to rest over the couch’s arm, spreading herself open for her slim fingers. She moans as she finds her clit and teases the tender flesh around it with two fingertips. 

You continue teasing her nipple, your free hand finding your own cock, painfully stiff, and giving it a few strokes. She watches you do it. She hisses as she watches you touch yourself, wordless sounds of lust escaping gritted teeth. Her eyes flick back and forth between your cock and her friend being roughly spitroasted mere feet away. Her eyes are glazed, half-lidded. Hungry.

For a few long minutes the two of you sit there, touching yourselves, pleasuring yourselves to the sights and sounds playing out in front of you.

On the bed, Mina orgasms - she lets the cock in her mouth leave her lips to let a shriek of pleasure escape from between them. The man fucking her behind shudders, slowing his thrusts momentarily to relish the pulsating of her orgasming cunt around his cock. The man in front of her seems upset by the sudden loss of the woman’s mouth around him - he reaches down, grasps a handful of her dark hair, and twists her head up to look at him.

She fixates him with an intense, lustful stare - even as her orgasm makes its way through her quivering, trembling body. He grips his cock with his other hand and slaps its thick, hard meat against her soft, delicate features.

Mina smiles. Wild, playful. She even giggles a little, an innocent, pleasant sound against the obscene, perverse context. You wonder for a moment how a woman born with such a classically elegant, delicate face could appear so utterly lustful, act so wanton.

Then she slips the cock back into her mouth and the three are fucking again, the two men having their way with her, taking their pleasure, using her - even as she used them.

The entire exchange stirs something in you, makes you want more than to just sit there with your cock in your own hand - especially when there was a naked, willing, needy little thing in your arms happy to take your hand’s place.

You tear your eyes from Mina for a moment. The hand on your cock leaves it, quickly slides into Chaeyoung’s hair. The thought of pulling her onto your lap and having her ride you comes to mind, but the thought of her mouth on your cock was too strong to resist; and besides, it would ensure your view of Mina’s show would remain unobstructed. Your fingers close around a knot of the unruly blonde strands, and with little softness or consideration, you pull Chaeyoung’s face onto your cock.

Her lips part, taking you into her slick, hot mouth quickly and easily, as though she were waiting for you to do so the whole time. Within seconds she is sucking your cock, head bobbing up and down, tongue pressed against the side of your cock or swirling around your head, spit dripping freely down your length and onto your balls. Chaeyoung moans around your shaft - she is sloppy, more focused on pleasure rather than your comfort - but you weren’t one to argue with the results. You shiver with pleasure as you use her mouth, pulling her head up and down along your length as though it were a sex toy and not the mouth of one of the biggest idols in Asia. 

She has squirmed onto her side to suck your cock better, but the hand between her legs doesn’t cease in its movements, her small wrist working faster between her flushed thighs. Soon she is moaning around your cock, the vibrations of her throat feeling wonderful within the warm wetness of her mouth.

The show in front of you goes on. The man behind Mina begins to spank her as he pounds away at her juicy little cunt. The one at her head unwittingly follows your example, grasping her head with both hands as he fucks in and out of her mouth. They both up their pace, although it was difficult to tell whether it was their own choice to do so or whether Mina, despite her rather compromising position, was doing something with her body to entice them to do so. Whatever it was, the pace of the show quickens as it reaches its climax.

The hand in her hair transitions to grasping the back of Chaeyoung’s scalp, guiding her up and down, using her mouth like the needy little fucktoy it was - the perfect little fucktoy for such a show. It was so utterly unreal, so ridiculous, using her mouth the way you were, using it to get off at the sight of her best friend being spitroasted so roughly in front of you.

But it was just another day, these days. Not that the surreal regularity of it made the slick, hot little mouth wrapped around your cock feel any less amazing.

“Fuck, fuck, Mina--” the man fucking her cunt gasps. “Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Shit, me too-” the man at her head hisses.

“On me!” the young woman shrieks, tearing the cock in her mouth free from between her lips to shout the command. “Don’t fucking cum in me.”

“Mina, fuck,” the man hammering away at her cunt gasps, his brow tightening, the grip on her ass tightening, leaving furrows in the pale, pliant flesh. “We always used to, fuck, we always used to cum in you-”

“-fill you up,” the other man spits between gritted teeth. “Wanna cum down your throat-”

“No,” Mina snaps, adamant. “You know the rules.”

She fixates the man at her face with a look - and while you can only see her side profile even you are struck by the intensity in those usually elegant, dainty features. She turns over her shoulder and gives the man behind her the same glare.

Even when there were multiple men involved, even when she was engaged in some of the filthiest acts imaginable, Myoui Mina never seemed rattled by any of it. She had a control, a grip over her own emotions and her own body; even as she exerted that control and grip over the men that she shared a bed with. The hold was ironclad, unshakable. It made men weak, made them unable to resist her demands.

“Fuck, alright,” the man behind her hisses, defeated.

“Wanna cum on your front,” the man at her head snaps. He is desperate now, being so close to his orgasm. They both are. And they both know neither of them are really in any position to be asking for more, given how blessed they already both were.

Mina relents. For a moment the intensity in her eyes is interrupted by a soft moan of pleasure as the man fucking her cunt reaches a particularly sensitive part of her. “Fine then,” she says, the words half-moan. “Fucking cum on me.”

The two men leave her body. Spit tumbles from her mouth, pre-cum and her juices drip from the splayed lips of her cunt. She turns around on the bed until she is lying on it.

“Paint me.”

The two men waste no time. Their hands find their needy cocks, and soon they are stroking themselves off to the sight of the beautiful young woman on the bed between them - naked, sweaty, dripping spit and sweat and cunt juices onto the soft cotton sheets beneath her. She squirms and writhes on the bed as she awaits their cum. 

Her hands wander her own body, tracing paths up her tight, toned midsection and squeezing a small, firm breast, or wandering between her splayed thighs, index and ring finger spreading apart the slick lips of her own pussy, middle finger finding and teasing her needy little clit. She is moaning throughout it all, little wordless sighs of pleasure as she touches herself.

The two men cum - they paint with the most lewd materials known to man, on one of the most beautiful canvases in existence. They leave their thick, warm semen on her body in long, heavy streaks, on her toned abs, her small breasts, the elegant features of her face, twisted in perverse joy at being debased the way she was.

She sighs and moans as they cum on her, each rope of semen seeming to incite a new spike of pleasure in her body until she too is cumming again, orgasming at the feel and sight and sound of two men stroking themselves, pleasuring themselves to her, leaving their cum on her. Staining her. Sullying her perfect image, turning the perfect lady into a dirty little cum-stained thing.

You cum too. How could you not? The sight of what had just happened in front of you was enough, never mind the feel of Chaeyoung’s slick tongue, hot mouth, and full lips wrapped around your cock.

Your hands pull the young Korean woman’s face down to the base of your shaft. You feel her gag around the hard, spasming shaft filling her mouth with semen. She manages not to rip her mouth from you, even if she could somehow fight the fingers woven through her hair, holding her skull fast against your crotch. 

The fear of hurting her that you once had from earlier in your time as her toy didn’t come up this time. She knew how to suck a cock - you knew that well. She knew how to take a load down that skilled throat of hers.

Eventually, some indeterminate amount of time later when your hands finally release their grip on her scalp, she manages to slip off your shaft. She raises her head, and her features are flushed, her hair frazzled, eyes half-lidded and still heavy with pleasure - a mess, but a satisfied one. From the corner of her mouth, a rivulet of glistening cum drips from her lips, but they remain sealed, keeping most of your warm load within. Her cheeks are fuller, and the thought of what she held within them drives you crazy.

She picks something up from the end table flanking the couch and presses it into your hand, something large and plastic. It takes you a moment to rip your eyes from the utterly erotic sight of your cum dripping down Chaeyoung’s chin, but when you do, you realize the object in your hands is a Polaroid camera.

Without further word she leaves the couch and approaches the filthy, cum-stained form of her best friend sprawled atop the bed. Mina welcomes her with open arms in a gesture that seems oddly intimate, oddly loving. There is a warm smile on her slick lips. The younger woman crawls atop the bed on all fours until she is perched atop it, face inches from that of her friend.

Mina opens her mouth. Chaeyoung opens hers. 

By some miracle, the camera viewfinder finds its way to your eye. You frame the shot. Your finger finds the shutter button as your thick, white semen drips from Chaeyoung’s mouth onto Mina’s waiting tongue.

Snap.

---

Exhibit 2: A woman’s (Subject B) pelvis dominates the frame. She is wearing a one-piece swimsuit, the crotch of which is pulled to the side. She is on her back, her legs spread apart, and a male’s erect penis (Subject C) is embedded to the base within her. Subjects are mid-coitus. 

Exhibit 3: In the lower third of the picture are two women (Subjects A and B), seated on what appears to be a poolside deck chair, facing the camera. The background is blurry and unrecognizable but appears to be natural or decorative foliage. The two women are wearing swimsuits and sunglasses. Subject A is presumably wearing a two-piece bikini, although only the top is visible, her lower half concealed by a white beach towel. Subject B is wearing a one-piece swimsuit.

--- 

“They’re old toys from our last tour,” Mina says. She had a way of reading your thoughts and answering unasked questions - something you were thankful for in that moment, because you weren’t quite sure how to broach the topic of the two random men who’d shown up the night before, engaged in a threesome with one of the girls you were responsible for, and left without so much as a word. 

“It was my turn to pick the toys last time we were here - me and Jihyo’s turn, anyway,” she continues. “But she wasn’t in the mood - or so she says - so she let me have her pick. I picked those two.”

“Oh, okay,” you answer. “And they’re not… toys any more?”

“I still call them up whenever I’m in town and want to have some fun,” she answers, nonchalantly, as though she were referring to old work or school acquaintances and not casual sex partners that she’d just had a rather wild threesome the night before. “One of them is pretty high up at this hotel, which is how we got this fancy suite. And no, they’re not officially the group’s toys anymore.”

“And they never… y’know, got hired by the company, like we did?”

“Nope. I guess you and the others are the lucky ones. Usually toys stay in the city we picked them in, and they usually only last a couple of nights. I guess you really impressed the girls, because one or more of us must have gone directly to the boss and asked that you and the others be hired on permanently.”

“I see. And you’re not afraid that they’ll do something? That they’ll go to the media or public?”

“No,” she answers, confidently. “Because they know if they try something they won’t be getting any more of this.”

She didn’t need to specify what this was, especially when this was laid out on the deck chair of the suite’s private deck, spending the warm Singaporean afternoon sunbathing. Even in what was a relatively modest bikini and simple designer sunglasses, Myoui Mina was breathtaking.

From your sitting position on the deck chair next to her, you let your gaze linger on her slim, tight body for a moment. She adjusts herself on her chair, knowing without a doubt that you were watching every movement she made. She playfully slides one leg up on the chair, revealing a full, pale thigh before placing a hand on her knee and striking a model’s pose. Her head turns slightly to face you, and the corner of a soft pink lip curls upwards into a sly smile.

You return it, and the two of you share a small laugh. Despite being typecast as the shy, introverted ice princess she was early in her career, you were glad to see her come out of her shell a little bit in recent years, both on and off the stage.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and despite the cute moment you were sharing with Mina, you pull it out of your shorts.

“I wish you’d relax,” she says, turning away from you again with an exaggerated sigh. “This is supposed to be a vacation, remember?”

She was right - the company placed higher importance than others on making sure its artists received sufficient vacation time, and this week was one of those company-mandated weeks when no official work was to be done. Many of the girls took it upon themselves to leave Seoul for a few days; Chaeyoung had already booked the flights and had had Mina make arrangements for the hotel before you’d even had a chance to ask her what she was up to. Before you knew it she’d shown up at your door and told you you had twenty minutes to pack for a five day trip to Singapore with the two of them.

The nature of your job meant that you were never truly off work, though, and there were still the odd emails to catch up on regarding appointments and other duties for the weeks after this one. Amidst the emails are a few notifications from the group chat you shared with Buzz and Woody - Woody apparently wanted to get the three of you together for beers sometime, but with you out of the country and Buzz busy with his actual career that night out would have to wait at least until you got back.

“Sorry, Mina,” you say, sheepishly placing your phone on Do Not Disturb and placing it on the side table beside your own deck chair. “There’ve been some changes to Nayeon’s schedules next week, and the higher ups thought I should know since I’m on duty with her starting Monday.”

Mina lets a barely audible huff of air escape her nostrils at the mention of Nayeon. The friction in the group had become more apparent over the past few weeks, and the girls were surprisingly willing to let their places in the battle lines be known to everyone, including their managers.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “Didn’t mean to bring her up on purpose. Wasn’t aware that you didn’t like her.”

“No need,” Mina answers, “you’re just doing your job. Doesn’t mean I can’t hate the bitch.”

You supposed that you shouldn’t have been surprised regarding where Mina stood in the entire Nayeon versus Chaeyoung split that had fractured the girls into two opposing parties, given her close relationship to the latter. But her openness on the topic still struck you, given her usually aloof and introverted nature, particularly when it came to matters that didn’t involve plastic building blocks or fictional, virtual worlds.

“Mina, I… listen, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’ve been wondering, like-”

“-what happened between Nayeon and Chaeyoung?” Mina finishes, again reading your mind, throwing the topic you’d been tiptoeing around out into the open. 

“Well, yeah.”

Mina crosses her arms. A frown appears on her lips. It doesn’t seem to be one of anger, but one of genuine frustration.

“I wish I knew,” she admits. “All I and the rest of the girls know is that those two have hated each other for as long as we’ve been a group - even before the Sixteen days. Whatever happened between them, it happened long before we ever took to a stage together.”

You nod along, not quite knowing how to move the topic forward. Thankfully, Mina does it for you. She’d made a habit of it lately.

“Every group of girls has its secrets, I suppose, but most of them are open ones: Tzuyu’s a virgin, but won’t be one for much longer, I think; Dahyun only sleeps with guys she has feelings for; Sana only sleeps with guys she doesn’t have feelings for; Jihyo isn’t over Da- I mean, Buzz; Momo’s carrying a torch for someone, although we haven’t quite figured out who yet; ​​Jeongyeon is in love with Nayeon; Nayeon’s an evil, cold-hearted, manipulative bitch. That last one may or may not be a secret.”

You had gotten to know the girls relatively well over the past few months, but much of what Mina had just revealed was still news to you. The girl clearly wasn’t one to keep secrets or didn’t care enough to face the consequences of spilling them - it was likely the latter. You want to press further on a few of them, but Mina continues her train of thought before you can do so.

“But the whole thing with Nayeon and Chaeyoung… I know Chaeyoung like the back of my hand, but yeah, it’s a strict no-go zone with her. I never pushed it. Not even when we were together.”

“Wait, what? Together? You and… Chaeyoung?”

“Yeah,” Mina answers, nonchalantly, as though she weren’t just dropping a heavy truth grenade at your feet and had tossed the pin away. “For a year or so.”

“Damn. I mean, the clues were there, but…”

Mina smiles to herself. “Yeah, we kind of slipped up here and there, didn’t we? The higher ups didn’t think it was real, and they passed it off as fanservice, but we… yeah, we were a thing. Serious, too. Or rather, I was ready to make it serious, but Chaeyoung…”

“...Chaeyoung?” you prod, your curiosity temporarily overcoming any hesitation you may have had at prying into the girls’ personal lives.

“She wasn’t ready to take that next step,” Mina finishes. “When we both decided it wasn’t going anywhere, we decided to break up.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. She wasn’t ready for anything serious, I guess. I felt like there was something holding her back from taking the next step. Trauma? Fear? Who knows. I sure as hell didn’t.”

The two of you sit there in silence for a while. Mina reaches for the drink at her side table and takes a sip. She sits there for a minute or two, stirring the liquor with her straw, trying to make sense of her thoughts. You want to say something, anything, to fill the silence.

“She’s still my best friend,” Mina says, eventually, breaking the silence for you. “Not to mention a pretty hot fuck buddy. I suppose that’s not a bad consolation prize, all things considered.”

She turns to smile at you, and you return it, although you sense a little bit of sadness behind the curl of her lips. After a while she returns to stirring her drink and taking small sips out of it, while you turn your attention back to your phone, unable to find the words to continue the conversation and unwilling to pry further into what was clearly a touchy subject.

“You two look awkward as fuck,” comes a voice from the suite’s glass doors. Chaeyoung emerges from the room, a black plastic bag in one hand. She’s wearing a black one-piece strapless swimsuit beneath a skimpy pair of denim shorts - shorts she makes sure to rid herself of before joining you and Mina by the pool, leaving her long, slim legs and cute little butt bare.

“We’re just enjoying the peace and quiet without you around making all the noise,” Mina says, returning her drink to the side table before motioning with her head towards Chaeyoung’s plastic bag. “Whatcha got there?”

“More drinks,” Chaeyoung answers, taking a seat at the foot of your deck chair and pulling three green glass bottles from the bag, along with a few novelty shot glasses she must have picked up from a souvenir stand. “Oh, and some sunscreen. Don’t want the higher ups getting pissed at our precious manager here for letting us get sunburnt out on vacation.”

She tosses the tiny bottle of sunscreen in your lap. You don’t miss the suggestive look she shares with Mina.

“You go first,” Mina says, suggestively, as she opens one of the soju bottles and pours a shot into one of the glasses. “It’s my turn to watch the show.”

Chaeyoung draws close to you on your deck chair, bringing her face to within inches of yours as if to kiss you, that cute little tongue of hers darting out to flash over her lips - before, with a wicked grin, she nudges you aside with her torso and lies down on her stomach on your deck chair.

You resign yourself to your fate, shooting Mina a smirk as you take up position behind Chaeyoung, opening up the bottle of sunscreen. You straddle the back of Chaeyoung’s thighs, squirt a small amount on her upper back, and begin to spread it over her soft, creamy skin.

She purrs, not unlike a satisfied cat, as you massage the thick lotion onto her upper back and shoulders. In the deck chair next to you, Mina takes her shot of soju - but doesn’t swallow it. 

Turning onto her side, she reaches up to Chaeyoung’s cheek before kissing her deeply, passing the soju between their mouths. Chaeyoung swallows most of the alcohol, but Mina’s lips don’t leave hers - leaving a lot of the clear liquid to escape their lips and drip down their chins. 

What begins as a soft, tender kiss quickly becomes a passionate makeout session. You bite your lip at the sight. You feel yourself stiffening beneath your pool shorts, even as you continue to massage what was left of the sunscreen onto Chaeyoung’s shoulders and back.

Mina breaks the kiss momentarily, shooting you a look - and the mischievousness in her eyes is impossible to miss even behind her sunglasses. She kisses Chaeyoung again, capturing the younger girl’s lower lip between her teeth, while reaching down with a hand to her friend’s ass - and pulling the crotch of her swimsuit aside and stretching it around a perky ass cheek, revealing her naked pussy.

Chaeyoung catches on quickly to her best friend’s intention, arching her back to allow you a better look at her upraised ass and the newly revealed flesh between her thighs. She wiggles beneath you, and you take your weight off her thighs to allow her to bring her knees beneath her body, raising her ass up off the deck chair.

Without breaking their kiss, Mina undoes the ties to the lower half of her bikini before pulling it off her body, tossing it away with an exaggerated flourish. Naked from the waist down, she gives Chaeyoung a last peck on the lips before she too turns onto her stomach and brings her knees beneath her, raising her ass, bringing it next to Chaeyoung’s until they are touching at the hip.

They spend a moment there, their upraised, naked asses swaying back and forth as they smile slyly at each other and at you before sharing soft, teasing kisses with each other. You cannot help but reach forward, needing to touch, needing to feel, as though by touching them you could receive some measure of reassurance that this was all really happening and not part of some ridiculous dream. 

You squeeze Mina’s ass with your right hand and Chaeyoung’s with your left, relishing the warm softness of their skin beneath your fingers. Mina’s ass was round and full, Chaeyoung’s cute and perky - both were utterly mouthwatering in their own way, to say nothing of the warm, slick flesh that waited just beneath each pair of cheeks. You sigh to yourself, your brain a little overwhelmed with the sensations suddenly flooding it.

“Fuck me,” Chaeyoung hisses over her shoulder, finding and holding your gaze with an intense, sultry look. “Fuck her. Fuck us both.”

You’d learned by now not to question such an order or hesitate when presented with such an opportunity. You were long past the point of questioning these things as they happened to you, having transitioned fully into simply enjoying them as they came. 

To that end, your left hand leaves her ass, grasping your painfully stiff cock and bringing it to Chaeyoung’s slick, hot cunt. Your tip buries itself between the lips of her pussy, causing a soft sigh to slip from her lips at that first contact. At the same time, you bring your right hand between Mina’s thighs, slipping the tip of your middle finger between her lips. Finding her hot lips dripping, your ring finger joins your middle, your fingertips playing with the moist, slick flesh there, but not penetrating any deeper, not yet.

The girls sigh and quiver and moan beneath you, waiting, wanting. You take it all in, relish the moment - every movement of their young, tight bodies, every lustful gasp and sigh that leaves their perfect lips. 

But your self-control only lasts so long. Your hips slide forward, filling Chaeyoung to the hilt with your cock - and Mina with your fingers.

Every single time felt special, felt new. This time was no different, even if the circumstances - sex with women you’d long believed were so far beyond your reach so as to be impossible - had become routine over the past few months. 

But you never tired of it. Not when the high was so high.

Chaeyoung is tight, slick, hot. She clenches tight as you fill her for the first time, that juicy cunt of hers stretching around your shaft, making you quiver involuntarily at the feel of her body wrapping around you. Mina is similarly vice-like; despite the relative slimness of your fingers, you can still feel how much she clenches around your digits. 

You start fucking Chaeyoung, your cock pistoning in and out of her cunt at a slow but steady pace, your fingers doing the same with Mina. There was certainly a time for teasing and foreplay with the girls, but you’d learned by now when such patience and buildup was necessary, and when it wasn’t. This was one of the latter times - a time for a hard, fast fuck, for getting to the pleasure without the preamble or teasing.

Chaeyoung moans, softly, as she’s filled again and again with your cock. Mina is biting her lip, and even though her eyes are still hidden behind her sunglasses you can tell her gaze is fixed solely on her best friend’s face, watching intently as her small, cute features are twisted by the pleasure building throughout her small, tight little body.

“Fuck,” Chaeyoung gasps. “Fuck, fuck me just like that.”

Mina lets a sound slip from her lips, and even though it is wordless it sounds like agreement. Her tooth bites deeper into her lip, and you fear for a moment whether she would soon draw blood.

But the concern for Mina is fleeting; Chaeyoung’s pussy wrapped around your cock is your main focus. Your free hand clutches a small butt cheek, or her tiny waist, pulling her back toward you as your hips slam forward - the forcefulness with which you thrust into her body increasing steadily, even as your tempo and pace remained the same.

“Such a good toy,” Chaeyoung sighs. She’d always been one of the more vocal girls during sex, finding release through words the way the others found release in breathless gasps and moans. “Such a good toy for us. For me.”

“Mmmm,” Mina hums, another wordless sound of agreement. Her pussy clenches around your fingers. You find it more and more difficult to plunge your fingers in and out of her body, but you ensure your fingers are fucking her with the same pace that your cock is fucking her best friend.

You glance over at her - at that slim, pale body of hers. There was a lot to love about her - the long, graceful legs, the round, full ass, the well-toned midriff and cute pair of breasts. But it was the way it all combined with that graceful, elegant face that put her on another level; seeing it twisted and contorted with lewd desire, seeing that face become slave to her base needs - it gave you a perverse pleasure, a lewd satisfaction in corrupting something so seemingly prim and proper.

By contrast, Chaeyoung seemed built for the physical pleasures - small, tight, slim, easy to throw around and bend over and play around with. There was something about her that invited sex, something that asked to be used, to be held down and fucked - even though you knew that she equally liked being the one using, the one pouncing atop a man and using his body for her own pleasure. Something about her screamed sex, made her irresistible. Every time you had her, you felt yourself giving into it more and more completely.

Your fingers slip from Mina’s body as you feel yourself give in to your need to fuck Chaeyoung, to take her, make her yours. You up your pace, your cock pounding her now, giving her tight little cunt hard, fast thrusts.

She yelps at first at your new pace, but yelps become sighs, and then moans. Your hands pull her hips back toward you as you thrust forward, ripping more delicious sounds from the young woman’s throat, making her cute butt cheeks ripple and bounce with each impact of your hips against them. Despite the roughness with which you’re fucking her, she still finds the words to put words to her pleasure.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps. “Fuck, Mina, fuck, he’s fucking me so good. So good. So hard! So good. Stretching me out. Gonna… gonna fucking cum soon, all over his cock.”

“Chaeyoung, mmmm,” Mina replies, unable, like her friend, to find the words that could give voice to her pleasure. She settles for reaching over and capturing Chaeyoung’s face with her hand, pulling her towards herself for a kiss.

The sight of the two making out - even as you fuck Chaeyoung’s cunt with long, hard strokes - is intoxicating. It felt amazing for you, but it must have been sublime for Chaeyoung, if the pulsating of her pussy around your cock was any indication.

Her orgasm hits her from out of nowhere, and she moans her pleasure into Mina’s mouth. The older woman breathes her moan in, inhales it, her lips curling up into a smile even as Chaeyoung turns into a quivering, trembling mess beneath her lips.

Eventually Chaeyoung’s strength gives out, and she breaks the kiss, falling forward and letting her head drop to the deck chair. You slow your thrusts, relishing the embrace of her pussy rippling around your cock as her orgasm runs its course.

“Me now, me,” Mina gasps, almost pleading, barely able to come up with the words she needed to describe the need coursing through her body. “Fuck me now. Me.”

You slide from Chaeyoung’s trembling pussy, delighting in the sight of her cunt lips wrapped around your shaft as it leaves her body. Your cock is slick and wet and dripping with her juices, some of it dripping onto the deck chair in heavy drops. You leave her face down, ass up on the deck chair, a blissful smile on her face as she relishes every second of the post-orgasm haze that had taken a hold of her senses.

You take up position behind Mina, swapping over to her deck chair, planting one foot on the floor for better leverage. You bring your glistening cock to her needy little cunt, and you slip into her body with one strong thrust, hilting yourself inside the mewling young woman’s slick little pussy.

Mina’s cunt is tight and dripping, given she’d just spent the past few minutes watching her best friend have her brains fucked out right next to her. From the very first thrust she is clenching, pulsating, quivering around your shaft. It was obvious that she was in no mood for a slow build up, slow ramping up of pace and forcefulness.

So you fuck her - hard, fast, merciless. And from the moment you slide out of her cunt, only to hilt yourself inside her again, her entire body tells you that that was exactly what she wanted.

She sighs, moans, cries her pleasure. Without words, like Chaeyoung. It was odd, you realized, given how relatively composed she was the night before when she was with the two old toys, and even earlier than that, when you had her with Buzz and Woody a few weeks prior. Both of those times she seemed to have complete control over the situation and her own body, vocalizing her needs, ordering her partners to do what she wished. This was a woman whom you’d witnessed taking three loads in each of her holes, all in the same night, without so much as a sly smile of contentment afterwards.

And now here she was, a mewling, quivering thing, unable to form words, her only way of expressing her pleasure being the breathless sighs and moans that spilled from her lips in an endless tumble. What was different?

You realize, even as you fuck the young woman into the deck chair, that it was Chaeyoung’s presence. The younger woman had been a mere observer with both of the other encounters, but now, having been fucked by the same man mere moments before, she was a full participant. 

Was it Chaeyoung’s proximity that drove Mina mad? The knowledge that she was being fucked with the same cock that had been inside her best friend and ex-lover just moments before?

Whatever it was, the Mina you were slamming in and out of was a different one from the one you’d had before. She reaches behind her, her nails pressing deep into your hip. She turns towards Chaeyoung, her sunglasses falling from her eyes as she does so, revealing eyes drunk with some heady mixture of pleasure and need.

“Mmmm,” she sighs, “Oh! Ummmh. Chaeyoung-”

Chaeyoung shakes the last of her post-orgasm stupor to reach up with a hand, cradling Mina’s face just as Mina did to her minutes before, when she herself was on the verge of cumming. 

“Do you like that, baby girl?” she asks, breathlessly. “Do you like being fucked hard like this?”

“Hhhmmmm,” Mina sighs, even as her body is rocked back and forth with the relentless pace of your cock thrusting in and out of her tight little cunt. The wet slap slap slap of your hips into her slick, sticky crotch makes it almost difficult to hear her.

“Mmm, I bet you do,” the younger girl answers, understanding the meaning beneath every sound that left her friend’s mouth, even if those sounds ceased to resemble human language, and instead took the form of lustful moans and wordless sighs. “I know you love being fucked like this. Being fucked hard, having your cunt pounded.”

Chaeyoung forces a kiss onto Mina’s lips before bringing her mouth to the moaning woman’s ear.

“I know you love it, taking cocks like this,” she continues. “Being used. Normal fucking isn’t good enough for you, is it? You need men to use you, don’t you? Being fucked like this - you love it. Do you know why, Mina? Do you know why you love being fucked hard? Because you’re so prim and proper all the time, aren’t you, baby girl? Because you’re Myoui Mina, elegant and ladylike, the perfect princess - being fucked like a whore.”

Mina cums in response - as though some secret keyword had been spoken, some trigger she had buried deep within her pulled by a merciless finger. Her orgasm is rough, violent, her entire body becoming a trembling mess as the pleasure overcomes her senses. She tightens almost painfully around your cock, the silken embrace of her cunt becoming almost unbearable in its tightness.

She falls forward, off your cock and onto the deck chair, breathing heavily, eyes shut, body still quivering. You gasp involuntarily as you leave her body, the slick wetness of her cunt sliding off your cock sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. You’d seen Mina cum before, of course, including on your own cock more than once - but never like this. You’d never seen her have an orgasm so strong, so raw.

You feel a need to comfort her, make sure she was okay. You bend over her body, placing kisses on her sweaty back and neck.

Chaeyoung joins you, leaning on her side on Mina’s deck chair, kissing her friend’s forehead and flushed cheeks even as the older woman quivers and trembles with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“He hasn’t cum yet,” she whispers into Mina’s ear as she pulls a strand of hair behind it. “We can’t leave him like this, can we, baby girl?”

“Mmnnnn,” Mina manages, though her breaths are short as she struggles to feed tired lungs. 

“Neither of the other toys came in you last night, did they? They followed your rules. Do you want a load now, baby girl? Do you want a load in this tight little pussy? In your tight little ass?”

Chaeyoung runs a finger along Mina’s lips before planting a soft, tender kiss upon them.

“…Or would you rather swallow it?”

Mina’s bottom lip curls under her tooth before she answers.

“You… you, take it. Take his cum. I know… I know you want it. I want you.. I want you to have it.”

A wicked smile pulls at the corners of Chaeyoung’s lips.

“Okay, baby girl,” she whispers, loud enough for you to hear. “I’m sure he’s got a lot of cum saved up for us. It’s already the second day of the trip, and he hasn’t cum in a pussy yet. Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll take his load for the both of us.”

Chaeyoung reaches into the black plastic bag that she’d left on the deck floor, retrieving her Polaroid camera. She places it in Mina’s hands.

“Make sure you get a good shot,” she says.

Chaeyoung lies on her back on her deck chair and spreads her legs. She reaches down, pulls the crotch of her swimsuit aside further than it already was, revealing her slick, dripping opening. For a moment, you are surprised with how quickly she turned your attention away from Mina’s wellbeing and back to her own pleasure. It was almost greedy, how quickly she claimed your load. Almost selfish.

But the thought is fleeting, because there she was - beautiful, tight, needy, waiting for your cock, craving your load. Any hesitation you might have had about how quickly she’d forgotten about Mina vanishes at the sight of her and the needy cunt between her flushed, spread thighs.

You come back to her deck chair, taking up position between her legs, bringing your cock - slick, glistening, aching - to her needy little cunt. You swipe your tip up and down her lips for a moment before sliding inside her, filling her in one smooth, long stroke.

“Fuck,” she hisses through her teeth. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby - I know you're close. Come on. Fuck me, cum in my pussy.”

You fuck Son Chaeyoung into the deck chair with firm, solid strokes of your cock, making sure she felt every entry and exit, filling her until you’re hilt deep before slipping out and doing it again and again and again. She spreads her legs wider, lets you get as deep inside her as you could. She hooks her ankles around your waist, wraps her hands around the back of your neck and lets her fingers intertwine. The cock hammering in and out of her body feels wonderful, but she cares less about her own pleasure and more about making sure her needy little pussy was filled up with cum.

“Come on, baby. Fuck me. Fuck my pussy up, give me that mess. Cum in me. Fill me up, fill me deep! I want to feel it in my guts.”

“Fuck, Chaeyoung,” you grunt. She was so tight, so slick, so hot - the silken grasp of her cunt wore away more and more of your sanity with each thrust. “Gonna make me cum.”

Mina whimpers next to you both, and you spare her a glance to see that she’s recovered somewhat from her orgasm. She’s grasping the camera with both hands now, holding it beneath her eye, waiting for the perfect shot. Her hands are quivering slightly. Her lower lip is curled under a tooth as she bites down hard on it.

Chaeyoung sees her readying for the shot and feels you nearing your peak. She places her hands on your upper chest before giving you a slight push backward, forcing you to straighten your arms as you support your weight with your hands on either side of her head. It creates space between your bodies - and gives Mina the perfect angle for a shot of your cock sliding in and out of her creamy little pussy.

“Oh god,” Mina gasps, breathless at the sight before her.

“Chaeyoung, gonna fucking-”

“-cum in me!” she hisses, eyes locked on yours with a wild intensity, wanting nothing more in that moment than to feel your cock spasming inside her as it fills her with semen. “Cum in me, cum in my cunt - fill me up with your cum.”

Mina’s tooth breaks the tender skin of her lip. She tastes the blood in her mouth.

She frames the shot. Her finger finds the shutter button just as you orgasm, filling Chaeyoung’s cunt with the first of several ropes of thick, warm semen.

Snap.

---

“Signal was the worst song. I have no idea how it got released, much less became our title track.”

“And the music video!” Mina adds. “With that dumb alien, and the dumb superpowers. What were the marketing team on when they came up with that stuff?”

“I dunno,” Chaeyoung says, filling your shot glass with the last drops of the three bottles of soju. “But hey, it won Song of the Year for some reason, so I guess it wasn’t a total failure.”

“I kinda liked Signal,” you admit, sheepishly. “I thought it was a bop.”

“Of course you did,” Chaeyoung says with a teasing sneer. “God, you’re such a fanboy.”

“Can’t complain about where it got me,” you counter, shooting the young woman a wink before downing your shot. You relish the sweet but strong flavor of the alcohol as it slides down your throat. The three of you had started drinking not long after your little session, lounging about on the deck chairs as the afternoon turned into early evening. Alcohol mixed well with the post-sex haze, lending the warm Singaporean sunset a warm, comfortable feeling.

“We’re all out,” Mina observes, motioning with her head towards the empty green bottles. “I suppose I can head out and get some more.” She raises her upper body off her deck chair and looks around for the bikini bottoms she’d rid herself of a while ago, but before she can find them, Chaeyoung stops her with a hand on her forearm.

“Now, now,” the younger girl says, “I don’t think you or I should be going out given our current state of dress. You can’t even find the other half of your bikini, can you?”

“I mean, either of you can just toss some shorts on and be just fine-” you begin, only for Chaeyoung to pull the top of her swimsuit down, letting her small, perky little tits slip out. Mina playfully follows suit, slipping her own round tits out of the cups of her bikini top.

“So you think I should go back out to the convenience store with my tits out and a load of cum dripping down my thighs? Man, the company would kill us if we went out like this, wouldn’t they?” Chaeyoung asks Mina, playfully.

“They sure would,” she replies. She had seemed eager to make the liquor run herself - but her desire to please Chaeyoung outweighed her desire for more alcohol, apparently.

“I really do want some more drinks though, and maybe some snacks,” Chaeyoung continues. “If only there were a strong and responsible but also handsome and well-endowed manager here to solve this little predicament of ours.”

The girls smile slyly at you, and you give them a snort through your nose before standing up off the chair and putting your shorts back on. You make a show of giving both of their pairs of tits a nice long look before turning around and starting towards the open glass doors of the hotel suite.

“Wait!” Chaeyoung says, reaching for the Polaroid. “Take a shot of us before you go. While the sun’s still up.”

You take the camera, expecting her to direct you to take another lewd shot - they did both have their tits out and Mina’s bikini bottom was essentially MIA - but Chaeyoung surprises you by tucking her tits back into her swimsuit and grabbing a white towel from a nearby deck chair that she tosses over Mina’s naked lower half.

“Take a clean one for the fanboys,” she says, mischievously, as she puts on her sunglasses and cuddles up next to Mina, who has pulled her bikini top back over her breasts. “I’m sure they’ll love the Michaeng tease!”

Mina sits up and gets ready for the picture, but the smile on her lips is forced. There is a quiver in her lip, as though Chaeyoung had just reopened an old wound.

You frame the shot. Your finger finds the shutter just as Mina slides her sunglasses back on, as though she wanted to hide the sadness in her eyes.

Snap.

--- 

Singapore had many things - some of the best cuisine in Asia, world-class shopping, gorgeous people - but the past eight hours you’d spent hopping in and out of various art exhibits had convinced you that it also had a thriving art scene.

You weren’t much for art, truth be told. You could appreciate the talent behind a paintbrush or a pencil, of course, but you weren’t exactly one to spend more than a few minutes admiring a piece. 

Chaeyoung was quite the opposite. There were several times over the past few hours that you’d found her absolutely engrossed in a particular piece, to the point where she appeared almost motionless in front of it, her breathing being the only indicator that she was a living being and not herself some sort of statue.

“Art can express what letters and numbers can’t,” she said, out of the blue, while you both stood there admiring a piece from a local modern artist. “It isn’t constrained by the rules of language or math or science. It’s expression in its purest form. That’s why I love it.”

Spending time alone with her was always something you looked forward to - you didn’t need her to justify the hours you’d both spent in small, quiet local galleries and exhibits over most of the day. That she felt the need to do so led you to believe that she was unsure of how you felt about her obsession with canvases and spray paint and acrylics.

“We can take as much time here as you want, Chaeyoung,” you say, quietly. Her attention leaves the piece in front of her for a moment to shoot you a smile for a moment before she returns her eyes to it.

“Yeah? You wouldn’t rather be with a sweet, wholesome girl in a classy sundress and heels? One that doesn’t drag you into shady galleries filled with weird abstract art?”

“Naw. And I think I get this piece, honestly. It’s, uh, about the colors and stuff.”

Chaeyoung smiles, returning her attention to the art piece.

You spend the next ten minutes in silence. You do your best to make sense of the colors and shapes in front of you until Chaeyoung slowly slips her hand in your arm and drags you toward the next exhibit.

---

Exhibit 4: Two subjects (Subjects A and C) are immediately post-coitus. The male, Subject C, is on his back. Subject A is atop him. Subject C’s penis is still fully embedded inside Subject A. Semen and other bodily fluids drip from the meeting of their bodies to drip down Subject C’s penis and testicles.

---

The first time it happens you aren’t quite sure what exactly it was - but the intense, sharp pleasure it incited within you was intoxicating. 

The second time, you think you know what it is - Chaeyoung’s tongue. 

Mina rides you roughly, fiercely, every muscle in her toned hips and thighs working hard to slide her juicy little cunt up and down your length. Her small, round tits sway atop you and the wordless, breathy moans that leave her mouth are music to your ears. 

But it’s the little pauses she makes every few seconds, at the apex of each exit of your cock from her body - the pauses that allow Chaeyoung to drag her tongue up the underside of your shaft, gathering up the slick juices that coat your length - that drive you crazy. 

With your tip inside one woman and another’s tongue lapping up the wetness on your shaft, the concept of sanity was quickly becoming an abstract, unknown thing.

Chaeyoung returns to playing with your balls, caressing them with careful fingertips. Mina returns to bouncing that tight little pussy of hers up and down your cock. You return to relishing every moment, doing your best to hold on to what remained of your sanity even as more and more of it was lost to you with each bounce, each lick.

What you would have given to be in Chaeyoung’s position for even a moment, to see what she saw, watching Mina’s round, firm ass bounce up and down, watching your cock as it speared in and out of her leaking, dripping cunt. The sight of it alone might have been enough to make you cum right there, on the spot. It’s only by some miracle that you hadn’t already.

Your fingers dig deep into the soft, yielding flesh of Mina’s thighs as she continues to ride you. You had to ground yourself, find something to anchor yourself with amidst the waves of pleasure battering you. Each one was more delicious than the last - and each one brought you closer and closer to a climax you weren’t sure you wanted so soon.

It was too good. The slick, silken embrace of Mina’s cunt, the sighs and moans filling your ears, the feel of Chaeyoung’s tongue darting out and licking the underside of your shaft - it was too good. You wanted it to last, fought hard to control yourself even as you knew the fight would be in vain.

“He’s gonna cum soon, baby girl,” Chaeyoung announces. She knew you well enough by now, knew by the quiver in your thighs and the tremble in your balls that you were close. “Where do you want it? You want it in this juicy little cunt of yours, don’t you? I know you only let our current toys cum in you. I know you haven’t had a load in this pussy in weeks. Is this where you want it, baby girl? Is this where you want him to cum? Tell him where, baby girl. He needs to hear it.”

“Inside,” Mina hisses, the single word leaving her mouth with an intense amount of conviction, as though she couldn’t even fathom the idea of you cumming anywhere else. 

“You heard her,” Chaeyoung relays. Even amidst Mina’s moans and the wet slap of her thighs against your hips her words are crystal clear. “Fill that pussy up with cum.”

“Fuck, Mina,” you gasp, fingers turning into claws as they dig into her pale thighs before reaching around and filling your palms with the soft flesh of her bouncing ass, slamming her down onto your cock. Mina bends, sucks the breath from your mouth with a passionate kiss.

She breaks it, watches you with passionate, wild eyes. Her hips are relentless, her cunt pulsating, tightening  - too good, too fucking good. Her lips open, and she whispers.

“Cum inside me.”

Your hands slam her ass down onto your crotch, and your cock spasms as it fills Myoui Mina with thick, hot ropes of cum. She sighs and moans with every spurt that paints her walls, but the wordless sounds that leave her mouth sound far away, dull, because you’re too far gone, too far lost in pleasure to even parse the sensation of sound.

For a few long, beautiful seconds, you feel like you’re floating. The pleasure flowing through your veins is overwhelming, is all that exists. 

Mina, breathing heavily, lifts her hips up and off you. Your cock, still stiff, glistening and slick and wet, slips from her body. Heavy drops of your semen drip from the splayed lips of her fucked cunt, dropping onto your cock and balls.

Chaeyoung licks her lips at the sight. She frames the shot. Her finger finds the shutter.

Snap.

Even before the resulting photo has begun to leave the camera, she has already tossed it onto the bed. You look over Mina’s shoulder and watch as Chaeyoung, eyes hungry, presses her face against the Japanese girl’s cunt.

The look on Mina’s face tells you all you need to know about what is happening just beyond your line of sight. The pleasure wracks her fine, delicate features as Chaeyoung eats out her freshly fucked pussy, licks up the warm semen and cunt juices leaking freely from it. Mina moans, arching her back, giving Chaeyoung a better angle from which to devour her sticky, dripping pussy.

Your hands are still gripping Mina’s ass, a full cheek in each palm. You spread the cheeks apart, allowing Chaeyoung even easier access to the Japanese girl’s body.

The sounds that fill the room are unholy. Chaeyoung is slurping and sucking and licking and Mina is moaning and sighing beneath her tongue, back arching sharply, her limbs trembling.

You watch over Mina’s shoulder as Chaeyoung finally raises her head from her friend’s cunt. She is a mess - semen and cunt juices flow freely from her chin and the corners of her lips.

She opens her mouth - and her tongue is wet, white, glistening. Her hands find yours, still spreading Mina’s cheeks apart. Her fingers play with Mina’s ass, teasing the tight bud until it opens slightly.

She lets the juices in her mouth drip onto Mina’s asshole.

You watch it - the glistening, slick, sinful drip of juices as it falls from the tip of Chaeyoung’s tongue and between Mina’s cheeks.

When her mouth is empty, Chaeyoung returns her face to Mina’s body, this time swirling her tongue around Mina’s pursed asshole, teasing the tight opening with her tongue, letting the slick wetness she’d spit on it inside her body.

You watch it all, enraptured, from over Mina’s quivering shoulder. You lock eyes with Chaeyoung, her eyes finding yours even as she is nose-deep between her best friend’s ass cheeks, her tongue working inside her ass. The look she gives you is nothing short of wicked.

Eventually she raises her face from Mina’s trembling body.

“I think her ass is ready now,” she states. “Come fuck it.”

You slide out from under Mina’s boneless, trembling body. You take up position behind her, bringing your cock, still rock-hard - because who wouldn’t be, after seeing what you’d just seen - to the slick, wet mess of her asshole. She, like you, is powerless, unable to do anything except whatever Chaeyoung desired. Two puppets, two pawns, slave to her will.

Her hole beckons, slick and ready, waiting to be fucked and taken and used.

Chaeyoung watches over your shoulder, a devil in disguise. She presses her chest against your back, arms wrapping themselves around your torso, just as she had wrapped herself around your very soul. You feel yourself surrender to her, bound to fulfilling her every desire - even if in this moment her desire was to watch you use her best friend’s body.

For a moment, she considers grabbing the camera, capturing this moment too, allowing you both to re-live it over and over again in the future - but as you slide inside Mina’s ass and the air is soon filled with lust and sex and fucking, the thought of doing much else quickly flees her mind.

She had a hold over the other two occupants in the room, and the need to sate her desires overcame any desire to capture it on film.

---

Exhibit 5: Photo is predominantly dark and indiscernible. Lens was likely obscured by a close object while taking the photo.

----

The air is stale, heavy and hot. When you open up the blinds and pull open the sliding door that led to the balcony, the rush of cool air that floods the room does much to chase away the last cobwebs of sleep from your groggy head.

Chaeyoung stirs on the bed, lets out a groan of protest over the merciless sunlight and the chill of fresh air. She turns onto her side away from you.

You let your gaze wander over her small, tight little body, naked as the day she was born. Sitting next to her on the bed, you reach out and let your finger graze her soft curves, over the creamy skin and ink occasionally embedded beneath it. She loved art so much she wanted it inked into her own body, not knowing that she herself was a form of it.

When your fingertips reach her shoulder she captures your fingers with her own and they intertwine.

“Ten more minutes,” she manages to mumble.

“We have thirty minutes to get out of here,” you answer. Mina had awoken some hours before and was already downstairs checking out at the front desk and settling the bill. 

She grumbles and protests, but eventually she rises to a seated position.

“I can think of a couple of things we can do in thirty minutes,” she says, suggestively. You find your gaze drifting to her small, round breasts and the piercings atop them, and your hand follows suit, gently cradling one in your palm. She purrs, and a naughty smile perks up the corners of her lips as she brings her face to yours and gives you a kiss.

“I’ll take a raincheck,” you say, softly. “C’mon. Mina’s probably already called us a ride to the airport.”

“Okay, okay,” she relents. You place the loose sweater and sweatpants you’d prepared for her in her lap.

It was a bit of a challenge, dragging her out of the hotel room and downstairs, where Mina was waiting with your luggage on the curb next to a newly arrived black SUV. Unlike Chaeyoung, she is impeccably dressed in a grey pencil skirt and matching white button-up, looking for all intents and purposes as though she was on her way home from a business trip and hadn’t spent most of the last five days having some of the filthiest sex imaginable.

“Finally,” she says under her breath as you and Chaeyoung approach. You wheel your two carriers to the rear of the waiting vehicle and assist the driver with loading them into the trunk.

Chaeyoung produces the Polaroid camera. “One last photo!” she announces. “Good thing, too, ‘cause it’s the last shot left.”

Mina brushes her hair from her face, preparing herself for the photo - until Chaeyoung shoves the camera into her hands.

“Take a pic of me and my man slave,” Chaeyoung says, playfully. She shuffles over to where you are loading the last of the luggage into the trunk and hooks her arm in yours. You glance at her as she approaches, and find a wide, cheery smile on her lips as she poses with you.

You both miss the quiver of pain in Mina’s lip.

She frames the shot. Her finger finds the shutter button.

She covers the lens.

Snap.

“Oh, shit,” she says, flatly, as the camera cranks out the photo. It takes a few moments to confirm as it develops, but eventually it appears most of the photo is obscured by the finger Mina had left over the lens.

“Damn,” Chaeyoung says, disappointed. “That sucks. Oh well, we have plenty of other photos from this trip.”

“Sorry,” Mina says under her breath as she passes the camera back to Chaeyoung and climbs into the vehicle.

---

Mina barely manages a smile when Momo enters the green room; truth be told, she was so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that the older woman was lucky to even get that.

“Hey,” Momo greets as she tosses her bag onto a nearby table before slouching into a stylist’s chair. She, too, looked and sounded a little ragged. “How was Singapore?”

“Great,” Mina answers beneath her breath, telling Momo all she needed to know about how the younger woman really felt. “How was Paris?”

“Great,” Momo repeats, with an equal amount of sad sarcasm. It had been two weeks since she’d returned from the French capital, but she wasn’t sure she’d recovered from the toll it had enacted on her body or heart.

The two sit there in silence for a while, silence heavy in the air. After a few minutes, Momo takes her phone out of her bag.

“I saw that pic she posted,” she begins. “The Polaroid of the two of you.”

Mina sighs under her breath, looking away slightly, unable to bear the thought of eye contact with anyone at the moment. This was the last conversation she wanted to have. “What about it?” she manages.

“It was shitty of her to do,” Momo says. “I’m sorry, Mina.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know,” the older woman admits, not quite knowing how to broach the topic. “I just… I know about you two, how you were together. It’s shitty of her to use your history to get likes from thirsty fanboys on fucking insta.”

Mina’s eyes shut involuntarily, as though her body were protecting itself from the world. She didn’t want to deal with this, wanted to run away from it all, would rather be anywhere else than in this green room preparing for a performance she had little enthusiasm for. She appreciated Momo taking her side, but to hear Chaeyoung’s intentions out loud hurt her more than she was expecting.

“It’s fine,” Mina says, although she isn’t sure whether she believes it herself. “She doesn’t know how I feel. She didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…”

“...it’s just?”

“It’s just… fanservice.”

Her voice cracks as the word leaves her lips. It hurt her, to have what was an important part of her life reduced to something so fake, so inherently pretend. She feels a spike of emotion well up in her throat, and she turns further away from Momo in an attempt to hide it.

It doesn’t work - Momo leaves her chair and takes the one next to Mina. She wraps an arm around the younger girl. After a few moments’ hesitation Mina relents and turns her body to Momo, and the two embrace.

A few minutes pass - the two young women sharing a moment of comfort amidst the hustle and bustle of a music show. Outside, they can still hear Sana laughing with her juniors over the dull beat of whatever shrill, overproduced song they were filming a dance challenge to. They do their best to shut out the world in each others’ arms.

“I want to be with her,” Mina says, softly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I want to be with him,” Momo answers.

At that moment the door opens and Sana lets herself into the room - thankfully, with her back facing them. She spends a few moments lingering by the door, waving goodbye to the small crowd of junior idol worshippers she’d gathered. She bathes in their attention, wears it like a dress, relishes every overexaggerated wave and promise to stay in contact. Inside the green room, her two group members cringe - the very sound of her voice annoyed and irritated them, as did the empty promises and fake compliments that left her lips.

Momo and Mina part before she can fully enter the room. Before they do, they share one last look.

In each others’ eyes, they come to an understanding.

---

The photos were terrible, by modern standards.

Some were poorly composed, some over or under exposed, blurry or unfocused. But therein lay their charm - their imperfection gave them character that modern photography lacked. Modern photos could be edited, touched up until they were perfect. Not so with physical photos. They were fleeting moments in time captured on film, photographer flaws and all.

The more scandalous, lewd ones she put aside - they’d go in a special album, one she kept for lonelier nights - but most of them she put in her normal album with the others. They would take their place alongside photos with friends, photos of important places or things, foreign landscapes and macro images of blades of grass or drops of rain. Many of the photos are of art, or are framed in such a way as to be art themselves. 

She saw art everywhere. She wanted to capture it all, hang them all up in galleries where they could live forever; even if said gallery consisted only of the small album she kept in a corner of her room.

There are a few of the new additions that she likes more than the others - the ones of him. Not the cheesy, staged photos of them in front of touristy landmarks or landscapes; no, she liked the candid ones the most. The ones of him laughing, only half in-frame, at a dad joke Mina dropped over lunch; the one of him in a vintage store they found tucked away in an alleyway, pointing up at an off-frame t-shirt that had caught his interest; the one of him she took when they got lost walking back to the hotel and he’s trying to make sense of the map on his phone, confused.

But the one she took on their last day there, the one of him asleep, head only half on his pillow, the sunlight making his skin glow - that was the one she liked the most. Her fingers trace the photo for a moment, and a soft smile finds its way on her lips.

After a moment she puts the photo in the album and closes it, placing it back on her shelf. 

As she does, her eye catches something - the small, rainbow-patterned album behind the one she held in her hands.

She knows she shouldn’t - she knows what’s in there, and what emotions it would bring up - but something possesses her to pick it out from her shelf. So much had happened, so much had changed over the past few months. Perhaps a part of her needed a reminder of a different time, when she was a different person - when they were different people.

She opens the album, and her fingers quickly find the last page. It is well-worn, familiar. Her fingers trace the pink-framed outline of the only Polaroid there. 

Her smile remains, but now it is a sad one.

---

Exhibit 0: Two young women (Subject B and Subject D) are embracing. The photo is a close up of their faces. Subject D is placing a kiss upon the cheek of Subject B, who is presumably holding the camera to take the selfie. Both Subject B and Subject D appear happy. In the lower half of their frame are their left hands, fingers intertwined - simple matching rings adorn their ring fingers.

On the bottom of the Polaroid frame, written with a black Sharpie in simple handwriting:

“Love you always - Nayeon”

---

Author’s Note: Toy is dirty PWP but also feels? *shrug* ;)

[harianaswhore]

⟡ cₕₐᵣₗₑₛ ₗₑcₗₑᵣc ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

little guard - @xxblairexxss

banned - @starkwlkr

dancing in the rain - @thef1diary

you are in love - @love-belle

sleepyhead - @pucksandpower

changing lanes (^)

theories of relativity (^)

something sweet (^)

in another life (^)

made with love (^)

going once, going twice (^)

jealous!charles - @theemporium

welcome to the chalet (^)

30 more minutes - @chillielo

causal dominance - @verstappen-cult

26 birthday kisses (the cutest thing i've actually ever read) - @f1version

i saw mommy kissing santa claus - @uramakimochi

red - @champagneholland

tipsy - @uluvjay

just kidding - @sincerlyleclerc

did i do that? - @chlerc

birthday - @poetsblvd

miami hot lap - @leilakisakabiri

lipstick stain - @p8dris

early mornings - @lxclerc

ten seconds (^)

mine (^)

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

too good - @dilemmaontwolegs

all that matters (^)

world burning (tw: injury, violence, etc.) - @miirohs

écoute chérie (tw: injury, violence, etc.) (^)

world burning (tw: injury, violence, etc.) (^)

right timing (sobbed over this) - @moneymasnn

said something stupid, instead of 'i love you' (smut) - @absolutelynotmate-archive

mon ange - @leclarifies

tender is the night for a broken heart - @katiascraft

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

true temptation - @cherry-leclerc

needy (^)

you know it - @leclsrc

playing with his nerves - @ccsainzleclerc5516

tired eyes - @sunsetchicane

inked - @pucksandpower

lessons in anatomy (suggestive) (^)

pretty songs and pretty moans - @theemporium

aphrodisiac (^)

only for you - @mickyschumacher

hands to myself (^)

shaving practice (suggetive) - @fastandcarlos

post race massage (suggetive) (^)

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

charles' playlist - @writingstoraes

all mine (^)

biggest fan (^)

no.1 fan (^)

birthday - @absolutelynotmate-archive

obsessed - @chrisevansonly

everything ends...or does it? (^)

let me be your armour (^)

heart eyes (^)

charles' sweetheart (^)

friendship bracelets - @astonmartinii

tight knit (^)

love languages (^)

undercover verstappen (^)

oh no he's hot - @verstarppen

baby - @csainzoperator

sur le point - @f1fnatic

mystery girl - @lewisvinga

ever letting go - @hs-is-loml

three's a crowd - @poetsblvd

lover boy - @luvclerc

like a feather - @maplesyrupsainz

they don't know me like my baby (^)

hard launch (^)

newey!reader - @pucksandpower

in a different timezone - @sof1shticated

hitched - @lxclerc

every day, i dress all black - @chokamo

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

everything shower smitten (smau) - @xxblairexxss

tying the knot two three (smau) - @dannyricsmirrorball

christmas in monaco two three - @everythingne

steal my girl snitches end up in ditches i'd lie (smau) - @leclerckins

via two - @eu-nicola

revenge two - @xxblairexxss

bear hugs - @lightsoutletsgo

a paddock day (smau) - @sofs16

life is a highway (lighting mcqueen!charles is everything to me) (smau) - @f1version

go for his brother two three (smau) - @il-miele-che-scrive

[cutieeva]

The Beautiful Lie

Female reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Love bombing. Self harm. Sexual Assault.

⌜ The art and the love interest (male character) belongs to the talented artist @meo-eiru and the story is inspiringly written and dedicated to @meo-eiru and the readers ! Hope you enjoy the plot that belongs to me but also helped by @meo-eiru a lot ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

(Y/N) rarely has time to offer to love, dating and such things because first : her taste in men are bad and second: she is a extremely busy person to balance her work life and personal life seperated until the most beautiful man she ever saw came surprising her with love. Or is it ?

"(Y/N), could you go to the Cutieeva mall to check out the new product's sales ?" Her female senior asked sitting from her desk.

"Of course, mam. I will be in a minute". (Y/N) agreed, saving all of her working documents before taking her handbag and left with car keys. Aurora Bloom, the brand of the cosmetic company she works, it is for now one of the top three companies to be trending in global and the best in Europe. While She works in HQ department of the company at a young age she didn't expect and living her life at ease at the rented apartment she lives quite close both to the company and her parents house who always here and there tell her to come home and when she does, it's a feast to eat of her home's comfy food and hearing thousand fictional stories from her writer father, well he wasn't a writer at first before he was a regular working manager at a company but he quit after (Y/N) outdone herself to such pristine department letting him decide to do what he likes until his last breath could be taken applying he wants no regrets to bear.

And he surprised the family by being quite a good writer himself, finding his own group of fandom invested in his writing and always support him while her mother is happy as she was being a housewife like always along being madly in love with her father who reciprocate the feelings to this day which (Y/N) finds utterly endearing yet she has no time to dwell about her love life when she has too much on her plate with her newfound career she wants to grow, as a independent woman and a person who lives her life to the fullest if overlook her empty love life.

"Yes mam, indeed people are enjoying the new shade of lipstick saying it's not only non-sticky but also long lasting highlighting their skin tones". The department store female manger explained pointing to the several women trying their new product 'the cherry blossom lipstick' either on their lips or on their palm.

(Y/N) nod, curling into a pleasant smile when her eyes caught a beautiful woman's back, wore pink shirt and tight skinny black pants with her musing long hair flowing with the breeze. "Must be pretty". She thought when she witness from her pocket a small object— foundation she recognized fell on the ground yet the woman walked away.

"She didn't noticed". On instinct almost she walked to the floor picking up the tiny box and call out. "Miss, your foundation..." She tailed off as she turn into the light, and captivated (Y/N) by the vision before her. His hair was a mesmerizing pink musing hue, with subtle waves that cascaded down his back like a rosy waterfall. The straight strands framed his face, accentuating his chiseled features, while his bangs fell effortlessly across his forehead, adding a touch of whimsical charm.

His eyes, a deep, burnished logoon color, like the warmth of a sunset on a tropical isle, sparkled with amusement as he caught her gaze. They seemed to dance with an inner light, drawing her in with an irresistible pull.

His lips, a vibrant red, curled into a gentle smile, revealing a hint of mischief, and (Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. But it was the glint of gold at his ears that added the final touch to his captivating appearance - delicate, filigree earrings that seemed to shimmer in harmony with his eyes.

(Y/N) felt like she was drowning in the depths of his gaze, and before she knew it, the words tumbled out of her mouth in a whispered gasp "You're beautiful."

The man's smile widened, and a low, husky laugh rumbled from his throat, sending shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. "Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with warmth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are a funny one complimenting me beautiful after calling me a lady".

As he laughed, the golden earrings caught the light, adding a touch of whimsy to his already captivating presence. (Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his face, her heart still racing from the impact of his beauty also sinking the fact she mistaken a man being a woman.

"I am sorry. It wasn't my intention". Honestly said, she look down, dare peeking though her lashes to flinch finding him staring at her the entire time.

"I can see that, the way it's written over your face". He chuckle moving his finger in air to the circle to her face making her palm touch her own heated cherry face.

"Ah !" She laughed nervously, unconsciously fisting on the foundation box.

"So, can I have it back ?" His hand reached out, palm up, with shiny white nails gleaming in the light, as if beckoning the object back from (Y/N)'s grasp. His fingers, slender and elegant, curled slightly, inviting her to return the coveted item. The nails, smooth and rounded, seemed to shine like tiny beacons, drawing (Y/N)'s gaze to his outstretched hand. With a gentle, yet persuasive gesture, he coaxed the foundation back into his possession, his shiny white nails glinting with quiet confidence.

"Huh ?" (Y/N)'s eyes widened, then blinked slowly, as if awakening from a spell, realizing the man had taken the foundation with effortless ease, leaving her feeling bewitched while his eyes crinkled, lips curling into a warm smile as he chuckled, clearly delighted by the woman's adorable, bewildered expression. His low, husky laugh filled the air, his gaze sparkling with amusement.

"What a adorable lady she is". His eyes roamed her body, lingering on every curve, exploring each detail, as if discovering hidden treasures. "You aren't from the department store right ?" (Y/N) blink twice.

"No".

"Oh, then you came to shop ?" He narrowed his eyes noticing her carrying a huge white handbag.

"No". She answered in short.

"Then why ?" He asked tilted his head with the notion his golden earrings swing gently.

"I am from the HQ department of the brand you are holding". Finally she smiled confidently pointing at the foundation's box printed Aurora Bloom.

"Oh !" He delightfully smile, toying with the object. "Pleasant to meet you then. He added.

"Pleasant to you t—" a melody emitted from her wrist watch widening her (E/C) eyes. "Oh god ! I need to hurry ! I am sorry but I need to go". She apologized having fun to converse with the stranger.

"No worries—" His eyes spot the missing ring finger. "—Miss ?" He tailed off insinuating her unknown name.

"(L/N) (Y/N), sir". She replied.

"Mine is Elias". (Y/N) choose not to comment at his lack of surname and nod before walking hastily. How could she forget this time's event manager is herself hosted on Tuesday, the very next day. Cursing her fate she ran.

Perfect. (Y/N) release a sigh overwhelmed by the fast yet perfect preparations she had to done within such short amount of time thankfully today would be the flawless day to showcase their skin products to their VIP guests who might be arriving any minute. The models have already came but "Has the makeup artist come yet ?" She questioned worried for the delayed time of the famous make up artist they somehow succeed in booking his seat as social media following was staggering, with millions hanging on his every post and tutorial. Celebrities clamored for his attention, and fashion icons praised his work. Sold-out masterclasses and coveted collaborations solidified his status as the most sought-after makeup artist in the industry. His name was synonymous with glamour and expertise, and his influence was simply unparalleled.

"It's alright ! The artist must be running late right ?" Soon her worries were proven right because soon after their automatic glass door opened revealing a man wore sleek black glasses, adding a touch of sophistication to his chiseled features. His French brown coat, crafted from seemly fine leather, draped elegantly across his broad shoulders, exuding luxury.

"The artist came, mam !" Her female junior announced however (Y/N) knitted her brows finding the man somehow familiar, from his blush long hair, tall statue only be still surprised finding the man remove his glasses to indeed be that beautiful man from yesterday who smile at her noting he remembered her.

"Wow ! The world indeed works in a mysterious ways". She grin shaking her head. "Welcome to the our event sir, please hurry the show begins within minutes". Adapting her professional mannerism she shaked his hand, guiding him to their backstage to appear on the front stage.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)" His lagoon eyes on her, standing behind the dark curtain to go.

"Of course, Sir Elias". She professionally smiled intriguing the man a little. "Oh ! Your turn". She stretch out her hand to the stage guide him who nod.

Wonderfully the event unfolded with seamless precision, a testament to the makeup artist's mastery. With each stroke of his brush, he transformed the models into living canvases, showcasing their company's product unparalleled quality. The VIP guests watched in awe, their faces aglow with delight, as the artist's vision came to life. As the final model face the guest revamped into a living goddess, the room erupted into applause, a joyful crescendo that wrapped the evening in a warm, golden glow. The event concluded with effortless elegance, leaving a lasting impression on all who attended including the staff and (Y/N) herself.

"He was the right choice". She giggle as her co-workers swarmed around her, beaming with pride and admiration. "Congratulations, you absolutely crushed it!" they exclaimed, patting her on the back and shaking her hand. "Your attention to detail and tireless efforts made this event truly unforgettable!"

Meanwhile, the VIP guests approached her, their faces still aglow with delight. "Thank you for an incredible experience," they said, their voices filled with genuine gratitude. "Your preparation was seamless, and every aspect of the event was meticulously executed. You truly are a master of your craft!" As the guests departed, (Y/N) waved goodbye, basking in the warmth of their praises. Her colleagues continued to congratulate her, their kind words and smiles a testament to her hard work and dedication. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, (Y/N) smiled, knowing she had truly outdone herself once again.

"You know your craft". She flinch almost screaming meeting his eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Elias. Partially it is your skills too that the reason why it was such a successful event". He smiled shrugging his shoulder.

"Okay, please have a safe drive and reach home". She wave her hand and farewell him before he parted his lips to say, remained rooted at his place, watching her figure disappearing.

"She is always hurry to leave". He mutter walking to his car.

"Hmm...this time their new lipstick looks better". (Y/N) discreetly stare at the neighboring make up store despite having much customers on her stores, she still find the new appeal of their products threatening to her company so she walked inside nodding to the welcoming female clerks.

Picking out the a box, she about to apply on her palm when a voice intrupted.

"Don't do it that way". Her eyes wide meeting his lagoon ones, smiling alike to crescent moons she compare. "Apply it in your lips directly and it will definitely have a different impact". He encouraged the doubtful woman who glided the crimson bullet across her lips, leaving a bold, velvety trail in its wake.

"Hmmm not suiting your face. Lighter". He picked out a peach shade handing her who again gliding the peach lipstick across her lips in soft, smooth strokes, as he whispered, "Let it caress your skin, like a summer breeze." As his warm breath danced across her ear, she flinched, her hand trembling with the lipstick. She turned, her gaze darting to his, their faces too close, the air thick with tension. Her eyes widened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face, as she leaned back, her shoulders tensing. The lipstick hovered, forgotten, as she struggled to create space between them, her breath catching in her throat. His gaze held hers, intense, unyielding, making her skin prickle with unease and heart racing.

"This suits you. I will take one". Hearing his comment she cleared her throat, slowly keeping the lipstick to where it was when from the tail of her eyes she saw him choose an uneven box of peach shade. Quickly she picked the perfect box stretching to him who raised his eyebrows in question.

"I already have one". He jiggle the box but frown staring at her shaking head.

"Take this, it has perfect box unlike the uneven one". She pointed out to his surprise as a thrilled chuckle left his lips.

"Thank you". Replacing the case.

"No problem". She wave her hand as if physically waving his gratitude.

"Wanna grab drinks ?" Elias suggested out of nowhere tilting his head.

"Okay". Checking her wrist watch she still has few minutes to spare. Also she did wanted a drink and they together went to the drink store nearby ordering one white chocolate matcha for her and one caramel frappuccino for him.

Waiting for the drink they sat near a white seat opposite of each other, talking about trivial things about one another where she learnt he is a regular customer of her brand along their frequent makeup artist that's why she was able to book him easily. Soon the waitress called for their drinks and they talked, sipping their drinks and walking.

"Okay I need to leave". She decided glancing at her wrist watch missing his disappointed gaze.

"Okay. It was nice talking to you". He told.

"Me too". Happily she answered, finding herself enjoying their conversation. "I will take my leave". With a wave she left once again.

However what she didn't expected was their daily meeting at the mall department store as she stepped into the store, clipboard in hand, she was focused on her task: ensuring the department was running smoothly. But then, she saw him—a familiar face among the shelves. Their daily meetings had become a pleasant ritual, a brief respite from her HQ duties. He'd ask about her day, and she'd share stories about the office, or he'd gossip about his latest makeup news. She found herself looking forward to these encounters, feeling a sense of comfort and camaraderie with this customer. He was easy to talk to, and their conversations flowed effortlessly. As she checked the inventory, he'd chat with her, making the task more enjoyable. Their bond grew with each passing day, an unexpected connection between them she wasn't anticipating because once a mundane checking became the hightlight of her day with that weeks pass in blink of an eye. Until one day they sat in their usual white table in front of the drink shop inside the mall.

As he asked the question "Do you like me?" she felt a sudden jolt of surprise, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. Her eyes widened, and actions paused before laughter awkwardly bursting back and forth like a defensive shield.

"Yes, as a good friend!" she exclaimed, trying to brush off the tension, her tone light and playful. But in her haste to respond, she missed the subtle strain in his smile, the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes but a doubt linger on her mind for him to ask such a question. Why ? Never in her mind did she view the man romantic, beautiful yes but that's a admiration unlike love, she is certain of her feelings are not alike to love.

"I like you too." His voice was calm, sincere, To her, his words were a friendly echo, a mirrored response, a confirmation of their camaraderie. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her, thinking the tension had dissipated, that they were back on familiar ground. (Y/N) simply smiled back, comfortable in her assumption, oblivious to the moment hung, suspended, a delicate balance of feelings, but she didn't notice, already moving on, the exchange filed away as a pleasant, friendly conversation and took her drinks however she soon has to depart this time with a hint of awkwardness.

"It's alright. Nothing is wrong". And correct to her thought the next day was normal as their conversation flowed easily, like a gentle stream. (Y/N) chatted with him, laughing and joking, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity. His question from the day before seemed like a distant memory, a minor blip in their friendly interactions. She didn't dwell on it, assuming it was just a momentary lapse, a strange anomaly in their otherwise effortless exchanges. As they talked, she felt her guard drop, her smile genuine, her heart light. Everything seemed alright again, the tension forgotten, their friendship back on track.

"Okay, see you again !" (Y/N) told glancing at her wrist watch because today she has an important delivery to approval on the said store.

"Yup ! See you again". He bid too when a message notification made her pause, worry etching her face. Her dad's request to bring the anniversary cake had just been detailed by the store's cancellation due to an emergency. Panic set in, her mind racing with consequences, her eyes darting around for a solution. Stress and concern replaced her relaxed demeanor, her fingers flying across the screen to respond to her dad's message. Elias noticing the drastic change asked and she replied elaborating her situation of how she must reach to approvel the delivery application but on the otherhand has to get the custom cake from the cake shop if not then the cake would not be handover.

"How about I went to get the cake instead of you and delivery to your parent's house. Didn't you said it is near ?" He presented the idea, smiling causing (Y/N) to halted her racing thoughts and a breath of air pass her lungs.

"Of course ! Of course !". She laughed heartily handing him the receipts and addresses before running to the delivery store to hastily complete her task and return home as soon as possible.

"Today's work was difficult". Her finger pads rub her forehead re-thinking her workload, getting out of the car and towards her parent's house caught the setting sun's beautiful view. Ringing the doorbell she waited thoughts going back to Elias. "How sweet of a person he is". A smile naturally curl to her lips and wider when the door opened by her mother.

"Happy anniversary mama !" (Y/N) embrace tightly, soaking on her familiar comfort while she returned the affections.

"Thank you dearest. Come inside, it must be hot outside". Her mother close the door behind as she let herself in, walking to the living room finding glimpse of her father sitting on the side chair and ran to embrace him from behind.

"Happy anniversary papa". She sing song, playfully kiss his hair.

"Thank you princess". His aged voice laughed, caress her hands to which she close her eyes melting into his raw love. "Also this young man is such an gentleman. Your taste in men is indeed great like your mother". She frown opening her eyes.

"What are you talking—" Her (E/C) wide, taken a back by Elias appearance sitting across her father, on the sofa and he raised his hands in mock surprise, his eyebrows arched in a playful gesture.

"Why are you—" Her words cut by her mother gentle ones.

"My heartless girl ! You left this man to fend for himself by telling him to get the cake and now you ask why is he here ? Of course I told him to grab one or two bite". The young woman nod, feeling guilty and appreciate at her mother's gesture.

"Ah— about that I am extremely sorry. It was my job to do". Elias shook his head nonchalant.

"Yet without my idea you wouldn't agree so yea, not your fault too". She glee truly pleased to find such a good friend she couldn't ask more and the anniversary celebration was a resounding success, filled with love, laughter, and warmth. As the evening unfolded, (Y/N)'s parents shared a tender moment, her father leaning in to kiss her mother softly on the lips. (Y/N) couldn't help but mockingly scrunch up her face in distaste, eliciting a hearty laugh from Elias sitting beside her. The atmosphere was light and joyful, with the sweet scent of cake wafting through the air. As they gathered around the dessert table, (Y/N)'s parents fed each other cake, their eyes locked in a loving gaze. The beautiful man joined in, playfully feeding (Y/N) a bite, his fingers brushing against hers. The room was filled with the sound of clinking forks and happy chatter, as they all savored the sweetness of the moment, and the love that surrounded them. Time stood still and they basked in the warmth of their little family's happiness, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

"Thank you very much. You helped me a lot". She showed her gratitude standing at the doorstep.

Elias shake his head "I enjoyed it so no need". Silence fill between them letting (Y/N) once again notice the lunar luminescence cascaded over the beautiful man's countenance, bathing his sculpted features in an soft, silvery radiance, as if the moon itself had bestowed a gentle caress upon his serene and peaceful face.

"Bye and good night".

"Same to you". He returned, turning his back to her and drove his car away.

From that day forward, the bond between (Y/N) and Elias blossomed into a beautiful, unbreakable connection. (Y/N) found herself opening up to Elias in ways she never thought possible, sharing with him her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires. She began to show him pictures of her friends, promising to introduce them soon, and shared stories about her life, her passions, and her dreams. As their trust grew, they exchanged contacts, marveling at how they had gone so long without sharing such a simple yet intimate detail. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, filling their break times with laughter and delight. Elias became (Y/N)'s confidant, her partner in crime, and her guiding light. Their friendship was a symphony of joy, a harmonious blend of trust, understanding, and mutual respect. (Y/N) cherished this new connection, feeling seen, heard, and understood in ways she never thought possible. Elias had become her rock, her safe haven, and her forever friend.

"By the way, I need your help with something". This alert her entire attention to him, sipping her drink from the staw as they both stood in front of the usual drink shop at the mall.

"Yes, anything. What is it about ?" (Y/N) was ready to help him when it's his need of time.

"I need your expertise in sorting through my grandparent's old photo albums. I want to create a memory book for my family, but I'm overwhelmed". Elias avert his eyes, smiling rigidly causing her heart melt at such an thoughtful gesture.

"Aww ! That sweet of course. I am happy to help". But his expression remained uncomfortable.

"But, you need to come to my house for that". He whispered dare to stare into her (E/C) eyes.

She suck her breath knowing she never once visited his home and she gulped nevertheless she grin again because her schedule is free mostly and she wants to help "It's alright ! I am happy to go but of course if you are comfortable". She tilted her head.

"Oh !— of course I would be or why would I ask you for help".

"Likewise but why did you ask me ?" If she recalls correctly he showed her many of his influencer, normal friends.

"Because you are the only friend who is good at managing things. You know like a good event manager who knows how to put things together ?" It earned a melodious laugh from (Y/N).

"I feel appreciated".

"As you should". She giggle more along him for his compliment. Soon she found herself in his car as he drove smoothly through the city, their eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror. Arriving at the penthouse he lives. The towering marvel of modern architecture that seemed to touch the stars. He expertly maneuvered the car into the private parking garage, and they stepped out into the opulent lobby, surrounded by polished marble and gleaming steel. A swift elevator ride later, they entered the penthouse itself, a breathtaking expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows, chic décor, and stunning city views. Her eyes widened in wonder, feeling as though she'd entered a different world more important his personal safe of walls.

"Sit on the sofa". He pointed going to the open modern kitchen. (Y/N) felt serenity wash over her when her feet stepped onto the shiny white tiles, their cool surface calming her senses. Sinking into the plush black sofa, she felt enveloped in comfort, her eyes darting around the luxurious space in wonder. With each glance, her awe grew, her heart swelling with gratitude for this stunning sanctuary.

"Here, a juice for you and you see those dusty stacks of heavy things. I found them inside". The cold glass slid within her grip but she smiled nervously because unfortunately blinded by the luxury she often seen on the TV she failed to detect the bluntly dusty things.

"Yes". She lied now laiding her eyes.

"They are I think contains photos of my grandparents but I need help to create an entire new album". Elias shrug helplessly.

"Alright ! Let's do this then". (Y/N) full of enthusiasm knelt down, her hands reaching for the dusty photo albums that lay open on the sleek glass table, her fingers touched the worn covers, a cloud of dust swirled up, carrying with it memories of laughter and love. But with the memories came a fit of coughing, as the dust tickled her throat and lungs.

Elias being swift and attentive, appeared beside her, his movements fluid as he knelt down. He handed her a glass of crystal clear water, his eyes filled with concern. "Here, drink this," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. She sipped the water, cough subsiding only then to be aware of the proximity of their bodies, kneeling together on the floor. Their faces were inches apart, their shoulders touching, and their legs aligned. The closeness sent a shiver down her spine. His lagoon gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, still moist from the water. His hand, still cradling the glass, began to move, his fingers brushing against her face.

With gentle care, Elias thumb rubbed against her lips, wiping away the droplets of water. she felt a sudden jolt of discomfort. His touch, though gentle, sent a wave of unease through her body. She tried to pull back, but his long slender hand lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of her mouth.

"(Y/N), I love you. Actually I was in love with you for a long time. Please, please accept me". Desperation whisper though his pink lips bringing their face closely and gripping her chin with his thump settle on the curve of her mouth.

"But you said you like—" Her words intruded.

"Never as a friend did I said". Elias connect their forehead. "It was you who receive it that way". (Y/N)'s eyes darted away, her gaze falling on the dusty floorboards as she struggled to process the sensation. Her heart raced, but not with excitement— rather with anxiety.

Trapped.

Betrayed.

Bothered.

She is feeling her personal space invaded by the intimate touch. The air thick with tension, the silence between them oppressive. (Y/N) longed to break free, to shatter the uncomfortable stillness that had settled over them. But her voice caught in her throat, leaving her unable to speak, unable to move, as Elias' hand remained, a gentle yet unyielding presence on her skin.

Why ? How ? When ? So many unanswered crawl inside her limited knowledge. Everything was going well, perfect yet why did it has to crash so harshly.

"Please, (Y/N) be mine. I can offer you anything you want. Riches, fame, connection, promotion. Say a word and it inside your palm". Slowly he draw their distance and (Y/N) felt utter destroyed by the wave of soft lips press against her. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and devoid of love. Her hands desperate to push him away, however his slender grip her fast, his arms wrapping around her like a vice or more like an beautiful snake wrap around his beloved prey.

Raged filled her (E/C) eyes, loathing the string of fate leading her in such advance, loathing the feel of his lips on hers, the way his tongue probed her mouth without consent. loathing the way he held her, like she was a prisoner, not a willing participant she wanted to grace her loved man her first kiss.

Finally air became a need did the beautiful man separate their interviwned lips, heat bust his pale cheeks, adoring heart pupils onto his eyes, chest heaving with newfound excitement snarling the chance she shove him, spatting words of vemon and eyes blazing with anger. "You disgust me". With that she ran and he let her.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to a taxi, traveling to her home of trust, sobbing by the betrayal she was returned by the conditional trust she gave after reaching home towards her bathroom was a burl rather her sole focus is escaping the lingering sensation of Elias lips on hers.

Rushed to the sink, gagging at the memory of the unwelcomed kiss. She turned on the faucet, cupping her hands under the running water to splash it onto her lips. Fingers rubbed her mouth harshly to scrub away the disgust moment yet the sensation lingered, haunting her. She gagged again, her stomach churning with revulsion. (Y/N) grasped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white with tension, as she struggled to compose herself eventually her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the white floor, her body trembling with anger and disgust. She sat there, her back against the cabinet, her eyes fixed on the floor as tears of frustration and violation streamed down her face.

The bathroom, once a sanctuary, now felt like a refuge from the trauma of the forced kiss. (Y/N) sat there, surrounded by the cold, sterile tiles, trying to catch her breath, in effort to erase the memory of Elias. The man she thought was her cherished partner, a delightful friend. Where ? Where did it all went wrong ? Where was the wrong step or word she utter to lead such devastating ending or was his whole persona was a facade. A spider wed to trap a butterfly like her and she was a naive little thing to walk right on it.

As the night's veil lifted, the sun rose, casting its warm rays upon the world. The golden light crept over the horizon, banishing the shadows and illuminating the landscape. The rays peeked through the curtains, gently coaxing (Y/N) out of her dark reverie.

Her eyes sunken and dark from the sleepless night, slowly opened alike two heavy doors creaking on their hinges. The golden light danced across her face, highlighting the purple circles that had formed under her eyes. The horror of the previous night's experience still lingered, etched on her face like a shadow.

(Y/N) blinked, her gaze unfocused, as the light pierced through her brain, reminding her of the traumatic events that had unfolded. She winced, mind recoiling from the memory. The usual ray of sun, a symbol of hope and renewal, now seemed like a harsh reminder of the darkness she had endured. She sat up, her body droop heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion and emotional turmoil. The golden light continued to pour in, illuminating the room, however (Y/N) felt not a hint of warmth, not of comfort. Only a sense of dread, a fear of what the new day might bring.

Disturbed by her numb thoughts she called her senior announcing her day off slipping the lie of being sick before declining and about to drift into sleep.

DING ! Her doorbell ring. She ignored. Again. Again. Again. Again and again following with a "(Y/N) ! This is me, your mother and father". Irritated she drag her feet to the front door, opening to reveal her aged parents.

"(Y/N)— what happen sweetie ?" Worry weight her words, touching her daughter's check when she flinch unconsciously frightening both her parents and herself.

"Come inside". Heavy her voice sounded, closing the door and sitting on the chair while they together on the sofa.

The air was heavy, thick with tension. Silence was oppressive, suffocating. The atmosphere was dense, like a knife could cut through it. Slicing through the strained quiet like a razor-sharp blade through velvet. Every breath felt like a struggle, every movement a battle against the crushing gravity of the moment.

"Darling, did you fought with your boyfriend ?" Bravely her mother finally questioned raising her eyebrows.

"Boyfriend ? Fight ?" Her voice trembled.

"Or". The old woman grasp. "Did you break up". Her husband rest his palm on her shoulder while (Y/N) confuse more by their words.

"Boyfriend ? Break up ? What are you talking about ? I do not have a boyfriend to begin with so how can I fight or break up with him ?" Frustration she shake her head as if physically shoving their creative imagination.

"Honey, it's alright. You don't have to hide from us. We understand you wanted to keep it a secret but he told us and we accept him as your boyfriend". Her mother calmly smiled providing a sense of comfort yet all she felt was suffocation and more confusion.

"Okay, at first I was sceptical. He looked flashy, an playboy however he is actually a child at heart, a very good one and is always eager to help". This time her father spoke lacing with a fondness she didn't expect him to talk about someone.

"What is wrong with you ! I never had a boyfriend in my life". She scream her lungs out yet her mother clap her hands on her mouth and her father pressed his lips thin.

"We know Elias is your boyfriend. (Y/N), don't be afraid. We are your parents". Then why ? Then why she doesn't feel the warmth from her parents as if they are distant people wearing familiar faces because the words spoken from their lips doesn't make sense.

"He was never my boyfriend ! Who ever told you that ? Don't assume things on your own". Frustration leaking though her voice, eyes narrowed in a glare and lips in disdain from stress.

"He told us himself. Elias told us when he delivery the cake ! Now don't tell me he was lying". Her father sigh stunned to see her daughter's rebellious side at such age.

"W-what ?" She stutter suddenly the world blurred, the walls melt away like a watercolor painting. The room zoomed out, leaving her suspended in a sea of uncertainty. Furniture and decorations receded into the distance, and she felt like she was floating, disconnected from reality. Their voices turn to distant echoes, thoughts a jumbled mess, as shock wrapped around her like a shroud.

"Why would he be my boyfriend ?"

"Why are you asking us ? You are the one in relationship and you are the one to hid it if not for the good man". Enough. The last straw of her held anger cut.

"G-G-Good man ? Good man ? Good fucking man ! You are calling a man who—who—" Words trailed off, lost in the abyss of her own horror, as she struggled to articulate the vile truth. "A-and that good man—" Despite her effectors the sentences remained unfinished, a haunting echo of her own trauma leaving her succumbed to the darkness of her memories.

"(Y/N)". Her mother's brows quiver and her hand touch hers. "I understand". A sense of relief came to her. Her mother understood, understood her assault by the vile, vile man. "I understand couple fight. They fight a lot and dirty but in the end they fight to be better, to be more loving, setting differences aside fight is normal as long as the couple love each other. You going through a rough patch with Elias is normal. He is a good man, believe your mother's judgment". Her words burn a slap on her cheek and her words were salt on (Y/N)'s wound.

"How dare you !" Her voice shattered the air, a raw, anguished with tears rolling down her cheeks. "How dare you labeled a man who forcefully kiss me ! Get out". Standing up, her eyes close feeling her throat constricted, dry and tight, as shame crept in like a thief, stealing her breath and dignity.

"Oh my (Y/N), couples fights are normal so is kissing. He must have meant it to calm you—"

"So he forced himself on me ?"

"He must not had meant to make you—". Her eyes wide in horror watching their impassive expressions oblivious to her distress she felt a stranger rather than daughter sharing a space now. Their faces blur by her teary vision. They are not her parents. They are strangers. They are not her parents if they slide with a stranger who not only forced himself on her but also lied.

"Get out". She commonded raw, loud and clear walking to her bedroom running from the suffocated, unbreathable small space. Her eyes watched her parents walked away, their figures fading into the distance. She felt a complex layers of emotions and when they turned their heads, she quickly shut the curtains, blocking out the sight of their faces. Her strength couldn't bear to look at them, couldn't bear to see their nonchalant expressions.

Turning away from the window and sat down on her bed, her hands shaking as she reached for her phone. She needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Her fingers dialed the familiar number of her best friend, the one person she knew would listen without judgment. The phone rang, (Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She was ready to unleash all her emotions, to share the pain and confusion that had been building up inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing to pour out her heart to her friend, the only one who could offer her the comfort and support she desperately needed.

"Hello (Y/N) ! How do you do ?" Her ray of light spoke.

"Emily. I-I-I want to talk to you about something".

"Sure, anything (Y/N) ! Aren't I your best friend". Lighthearted giggles on the otherhand comfort her ears.

"The thing is, remember Elias ?"

"Oh ! What about him ? The hottie". A bitter taste left her lips hearing her sound so oblivious yet she understand it's not her fault.

"Well, yes. He yesterday forced himself on me". Silent was the line for a second before a loud screeching noise came.

"What ? That's messed up !" Her firm and resolute voice felt a weight lift from (Y/N)'s heart, a sense of validation wash over her. She was no longer alone in her outrage and hurt. Emily's words were a balm to her soul, soothing her raw emotions. Feeling seen, heard, and believed.

"I knew it you woul—"

"But you see we have to also must see his point of view. He must had done that in desperation to be more than friends with benefits with you. I know normally friends with benefits should know their limits but he is a kind, pure and perfect man for you". As fast as the ray of light came, that vanished in front of her soaking her in cold reality, numbing her heart. Icy truth seeped in, crushing her soul.

"W-what are you talking about Emily ? I never had that kind of relationship with him !! Didn't I told you ?" More tears cover the dry ones, confusion lay on her mind to wonder how each important person to her is on his side.

"Gosh ! (Y/N) forgive me actually Elias told me about your relationship. He was even ashamed to admit it at first before whole heartedly declare his romantic feelings for you that even I was touched". Lies. Lies and lies. Gritted her teeth she decline the call, throwing it on her bed.

Madly her lips parted to scream. Ha ! What a wicked man he is, feeding lies to her loved ones, snatching them away from her and all in an blink of eye and right under her nose. How idiot was she to not notice ? How ? How ? How ? Rage pump on her veins and emotions controlled her rationality.

Swifty she call his number, clenching her fist. "Hello darling, I was waiting for your call". His sickly sweet voice came from the other line.

"Stop this you fucking bastard ! Stop these mind games ! Stop the lies". (Y/N) glare at him though phone.

"Ouch ! Calling my love lies, games hurt more than I expected. I guess this is the power of loving someone. Huh ?" His laughter was like a taunting to her, racing her pulses.

"I will kill you !" She threaten.

"Oh how lovely it is to have your hand on me as I take my last breath". She throw the phone across her bed in disgust and helpless not aware he is driving to her house. Finally obtained the moment he was so patiently awaited. The time to have her vulnerable and alone.

Wasn't she sound so cute right now ? He bite his lips betting she looks more adorable.

Spoiled. Growing up he was spoiled by everyone, every meeting face from his childhood, once they look at his face, they drastically change their behaviors, showering him with free gifts, praises and all, regardless of old or young. He was the beloved of their hearts, the king ruling their minds. Thus, growing up being spoiled wasn't new for him, the admiration stares mixing with some disband doesn't affect him why ? Because that means they are jealous of him. Ha ! Who wouldn't, he didn't view his arrogance as bad, he simply believe it as his confidence nothing more, nothing less after all all women confess to him one after another non-stop yet never did he loved any. Until that fateful day he went to the shopping mall of department store meeting that adorable woman, all red, blushly for him. It amused him to end, what a pleasant play toy to enjoy for sometimes however the drastic change due to her professionalism was a behold see.

She was nothing like the woman he saw that day. He almost tricked into thinking she forget him.

"We met once again, Miss (L/N)"

"Of course, Sir Elias".

Good, she didn't forget him. She simply wanted to act professional. How fun. He enjoyed nailling his usual performance that for some reasons always got him claps, praises when in reality he just does it naturally because he has nothing else to do. Unlike other people investing in their hobby, he has nothing. Perhaps because of that he is used to being pampered, loved and given anything he wish.

However why ? Why once again like yesterday after the event end did she not stay to convey meaningless string of words like others ? Always running away like an lamb catching sight of an wolf. Boring. Elias care not to pay attention to her after all many have dislike him but thousands who love him. The next day encountering her again was a pure game of fates but after noting her little consider habits did he realize she loves him.

Because if she doesn't, who will notice the uneven box of lipstick replacing with the perfect one ? If she doesn't, why she glance at him so many times ? Often smiling and appearing cheerful ? If she doesn't, why she always remembers his drink from the one time he ordered ? And so much more.

She must love him. Right ? Oh ! Oh ! How naive he was to not realize her blunt feelings for him. It's okay he has fallen for her too. Yes, Elias, the man who usual pampered has this sudden desire to pamper his beloved, watching her daily or even seen a glimpse of her flutter his heart like never did before. Their accidental brushes of fingers and shoulders sent him jolts of delight. Once seen her beautiful face could his lips curve to smile itself.

It's okay he will wait. Wait for her to confess and him accept. One week pass, two week pass. Maybe she is playing hard to get. Understandable she must be waiting for the perfect moment to confess that must mean he has to appear perfect right ? Daily he spent hours in front of mirror selecting the perfect outfit, smoothly care his hair, highlight his beautiful face. First it was only limited to changing outfits to style his hair daily to cut his hair in more desirable way to only repeat the routine. Each passing day he is refining himself then why ? Why ? Why didn't she even compliment him ? Let alone confess to him already ? He dolled himself up almost—no surely daily yet what is she so timid about. Til he realize —actually she isn't timid at all.

Rather she is not in love with him. How he got to know ? Because he was hastily ran to the mall, very giggy to meet the heart of his life when his breath stuck in his throat. In front of him a scene of (Y/N) tying a middle aged man's tie that came untie and she welcome him warmly in return of his thanks before talking warmly to the staffs asking if any needs they wishes to have, even helping a woman who's having trouble wearing lipstick and non-judgmentally explaining their products to others.

She is actually not in love with him. She is just nice. As if the gods played a ridicule game to him still his hatred was directed to the gods not her. How could he blame her ? She was a naive little thing. Sooner of later she will come to love him. That's why one day he asked her.

"Do you like me ?"

"Yes, As a good friend !" What a dishearten words.

"I like you too." In a romantic way were the words he choose to not speak. It's okay, if she doesn't like him now she will in the future. All she needs is time. He has to nurture, sewed and take time to built the love or else how it would be possible. First he has to make her alone. Alone to reply on him. And only him.

And the gods were at his side to grace him with the opportunity on golden plate he was used to. Using the excuse to delivery the cake to her parents house was the first step to isolate her. So he did what he was naturally gifted at, winning hearts regardless of age. Quickly they were head over hell, swooning at his lies about their secret relationship and more lies about their wish to keep it a secret as she want to disclose it on her own term. Fools, her parents were and naive his (Y/N) was moving closer to him. Showing him pictures of her friends, spewing all of her work related words and he silently memorize her password so when she went to use restroom or busy checking her tasks, he smartly save all of her contacts.

Charming her friends, dancing them at his rhythm against her, saying they are friends with benefits where he was unfortunate to fall in love and finally he invited (Y/N) home and confess his passionate love.

"You disgust me".

Well, didn't it end badly ? It's alright she will come crawling to him. Right inside his embrace all willingly. Elias will be the bigger person in here, forgiving her amuture mistakes because he loves her.

Ring ! Ring ! Elias stand in front of his beloved house, ringing the doorbell. The finale came and his patient broke all lose. This is the moment she has to be his and he hers.

"Mom, Dad ! I told you—" Her breath hitched and instinctively tried to slam the door shut, but he was too swift, too potent. His hand darted out, arresting the door's momentum with a firm yet gentle touch, and he stepped across the threshold with a fluid motion. The door creaked in defeat, surrendering to his quiet strength. (Y/N) retreated, her heart racing like a wild animal, as Elias's eyes seemed to delve into her very essence. His presence was a palpable force, filling the space with an almost suffocating intensity. With a subtle click, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the doorknob as his gaze continued to hold hers captive.

"What's the hurry hmm ?" The gentle smile contrast to the violent actions was ironic. Unfazed he step forward. She step back.

He advanced, his footsteps deliberate and purposeful and (Y/N) retreated, her own steps faltering in a desperate bid for distance.

With each step he took forward, she mirrored with a hesitant step back, her eyes fixed on his, her breath caught in her throat.

"What are you doing here ?" Alarm danger ringing inside her entire body, sending mix signals to her flight, fight or freeze mode. All she felt being hovered by him was fear, no longer the anger fuming her veins.

"Just here to visit my darling". In sing song manner he told, walking until his wild cat cornered. (Y/N) feeling the wooden wall of her kitchen immediately run away near the stairs.

"Just stay there—". Her words cut off.

"Do you love me ?" Using the same honeyed coated voice he asked.

"I will call the police Elias !" She threatened

"Do you love me ?" He bore his lagoon eyes into her (E/C) ones.

"Please stay away".

"If you answer. Do you love me".

"No. I don't". She spat, bewilded by the fact he would wish for her to love him even after the twisted games he played with her.

"Then will you love me ?" Her face contorted in mix of anxiety and exasperation.

"No". Nodding calmly to her denial he picked the nearby kitchen knife scarying her further.

"No. No. No. No. No. Elias ! Please don't do this—"

"I must or else you won't be mine". Saying she was ready to sprint for her survival however he pressed the knife to his throat, tears streaming down his face like rivulets of sorrow, his eyes pleading for her. "Please be mine or I will kill myself". He gaze fondly at her widen ones.

"You are crazy". She whispered not expected such move.

"Yes, I am for you". A sly, mirthless grin spread across Elias's face, his lips curling upward in a macabre smile. "So will you love me ?"

Tears swelled in her eyes, fear and despair mingling watching his steady hand inch the sharp blade closer.

"No wait !"

"Then say do you love me ?" He whisper alike to the sweet nothings hushes. "Because without you why must I stay alive". He added.

"Okay okay I will say it". She doesn't know. She doesn't know why she says it because a twisted sense of desperation clawed at her chest, a morbid longing to preserve the life of the one she loathed, as if his existence was inextricably linked to her own.

"I l-l-lo— I can't". In despair she collapse unable to bear so many complicated emotions and nightmares at the same time in her seemly simple life. Footsteps echoed the silent room as his shoes came to her view and he bend to her level, throwing the knife and cupping her chin like she was a delicate flower despite plucking her roots and held her.

"It's all right you will learn to love me". A happy smile curve his alluring lips that press against hers. This time the is gentle, caressing and lovely as if petals of love is pouring out of his lips silently conveying his words. Slipping his tongue in hers, he trapped her tongue savoring her divine flovours he was thirsty to drink again. Sucking mouthful of air he kiss more, not letting their lips separated for a moment and close his eyes drowning under the moment while she close her eyes motionlessly stilled, letting him do as he please selling herself to him with the price of forever.

As oxygen grew scarce, he parted their lips grinning ear to ear, leaning his forehead to hers.

"This is a lie. All of these are lies you said to others". She utter hopelessly.

"Then let's make it a reality". He suggested however brows frown watching her shake her head.

"Can't. Too much lies to forget".

Chuckly raspy, he kiss once more saying. "Then let's make it the beautiful lie".

FIN

⌜ Once again thank you @meo-eiru for letting me use your wonderful male character Elias and your permission to write this story along thank you readers for reading the story. Hope you enjoy it ⌟

[onlymingyus]

Love Scene (svthub's cupid for you collab)

pairing; choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; alcohol, poor knowledge of wine (on my part), pet names, seungcheol is a simp, unprotected sex, manhandling/cheol lifts the reader, mentions of the readers lipstick color (could look different on all skin tones), begging, slight dom!seungcheol, big dick!seungcheol, lingerie kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating, breeding kink, aftercare

w/c; 5.3k 

svthub cupid for you masterlist

a/n; this is part of the svthub cupid for you collab valentine's gift exchange event. my fic is for my valentine @multi-kpop-fanfics. i hope you enjoy this wifey. i had a lot of fun writing cheollie for you. happy valentines day. i love you. thank you to @wongyuseokie and @onlyhuis for proofreading for me!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Seungcheol smiles against the wine glass pursed on his lips. You looked beautiful as you listened to the woman drone on about the notes and undertones of the wine that she had been pouring for the two of you to try, but Seungcheol had stopped paying attention three bottles ago. 

“This one is a Cabernet Sauvignon.” 

You hum along with the woman’s words as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a sip of the dark red liquid and letting the dry wine rest on your tongue, trying to taste the notes she was explaining even as you feel Seungcheol’s eyes on your face. 

“A personal favorite and one I know a lot of couples tend to want to take home, especially on evenings like this. Notes of cranberries and dark chocolate. What do you think, Seungcheol?” 

Hearing his name from the host, your boyfriend smiles, looking away from you to pick up the glass, tipping it back quicker than you had. You watch as he swirls the liquid on his tongue, tilting his head only to purse his lips and look at yours as you let them part ever so slightly in amusement. 

“Not my favorite, honestly. Especially if I’m buying a bottle for Valentine’s Day. I want something sweet. Something that will make me feel as good as I do when I look at her.” 

He was being ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but look away, feeling your cheeks burning at his attempts to be sweet. The woman laughs, reaching for the glasses in front of you, and Seungcheol pulls them back towards her before she searches her inventory for the perfect choice as you shake your head. 

“Seriously, Cheol?” 

Smiling, Seungcheol leans to press his lips against your warm cheek, chuckling at the heat under his lips even as you try to pull away, feeling embarrassed by his public display of attention. 

“Of course, I’m serious, Y/N. It’s Valentine’s Day. If there was any day for me to be as cheesy as possible, it’s today, and you look beautiful. I can’t help it…  I think Cupid shot me in the ass because I’m head over heels for you, baby.” 

Scoffing, you push Seungcheol away, listening to his laughter, even as you attempt to hide your laugh, muttering about how stupid he is. 

“Stupidly in love with you.” 

"Ya, could you shut up Choi Seungcheol?” 

Turning back towards you and a now playfully pouty Seungcheol, the woman laughs under her breath as she shows you both a different bottle of wine. 

“This is a Chateau Chantal Cherry Port. This is the sort of dessert wine I would recommend serving with chocolate. Perfect for a day like today.” 

Seungcheol watches your lips pull up into a smile as the dark liquid is poured into two small port glasses and offered to you. He lets you taste it first, listening to the soft sound of appreciation that escapes your lips before he tilts his glass back and his eyes widen. 

“Oh wow…” 

You can only nod along as you watch your boyfriend this time. He had spent the day “stupidly in love” with you, but now you were almost drunk with how much you were clearly enamored with the man. 

“Rich cherries with a bit of tobacco and wood smoke depth makes this port special." 

Neither of you were paying attention to your host at this point, as Seungcheol notices you looking at him, the glass resting on his lips as he finishes what is left in his glass. He needed to get you out of here. What made this special was you, not any underlying notes or fruits or what barrel the wine had been aged in. 

“We’ll take a bottle.” 

You smile, leaning your head back against the wall next to your front door, as Seungcheol’s lips press against the column of your throat. He had barely kept his hands to himself the entire drive home, but you weren’t complaining. You were on fire for him, and it would seem the feeling was mutual. 

Groaning against your skin, Seungcheol’s fingers slide along your arm to your wrist, where your fingers are wrapped around a blue jasmine bouquet he had stopped to pick up on the way home. He tried to be careful, dragging your arm up the wall, knowing you were holding the flowers, but he could feel petals hitting his shirt and hear the soft fluttering as they fell to the ground. 

“Cheol…” 

His brows furrowing at the level of need in your voice as you say his name, Seungcheol rakes his teeth against your throat before pulling back to look at your pretty face, leaning in to press his plush lips to yours. Your lips were almost the same color as the wine that he had bought for the two of you to share for the night, and it was driving him crazy. 

You whimper against his lips, and Seungcheol feels his cock starting to stiffen in his pants, causing him to hiss and lean his forehead against yours in an effort to calm himself down. Your free hand was tugging at his dress shirt under his jacket, pulling it from his pants already, but he had two bags in his hand and a plan for the evening before he wanted to have you on his cock. 

“You are so fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

Seungcheol feels your smile against his cheek as he leans to brush his lips against your ear to whisper in your ear. He could feel the chill bumps spreading along your skin. As hard as he was making this for himself, he knew it was just as difficult for you not to beg him  to take you to bed. 

“My forever valentine.” 

Your fingernails almost rip at Seungcheol’s shirt as you feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but his words cause your heart to swell. He was cheesy, and you couldn’t help but smile, but he was making you fall in love with him all over again. 

“I love you too, Cheol. I–can we just..." 

He knew what you were going to ask. Smiling, Seungcheol shakes his head, making you whine as he pulls back from you, only stopping to kiss you gently before taking your free hand and guiding you towards the kitchen. 

“Not yet. Patience, darling.” 

You did want to have patience, but as you followed Seungcheol into the kitchen, his fingers falling from yours as he laid his bags on the island, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You knew how important today was to him. Every day with you was important to him, but holidays, no matter how commercial and silly they really were, were important if they could be spent with you and celebrating you. 

“Here, sit down, baby. Let me grab a couple of things.” 

Seungcheol watches you smile as he turns the swiveling high bar stool towards you. He loved your smile. He loved how easily he could make you happy on days like this. Just little actions would have you smiling and giggling for him, and that had Seuncheol’s chest feeling tight with love. 

Turning you back towards the island, Seungcheol leans to kiss your cheek, listening to your soft laughter as he leaves you watching him. He could hear you shifting behind him, but he kept himself to his task: two wine glasses, a plate, and a fork. No matter how much he wanted to take you to bed right away, he needed to practice the patience he expected you to have. 

Crossing your arms on the counter, you lay your chin on your hand, tilting your head slightly while watching your boyfriend complete his tasks. He was effortlessly handsome, and you could imagine every day of the rest of your life spent like this. He made it as easy as breathing. 

He smiled as he looked at you fondly, seeing you with your head resting on the counter. Seungcheol reaches for the bags, taking out the bottle of wine from the vineyard along with a plain box that he had been insistent on stopping to get on the way home. 

“You are so cute. I can’t stand when you look at me like that.” You smile once again, and Seungcheol’s heart beats quicker. “You make it hard for me to tell you no.” 

“Then why would you ever tell me no, Cheol?” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol carefully opens the wine, letting out a sigh as he holds one of the delicate wine glasses in his left hand and pours some of the deep red liquid into it. 

“I rarely do. I just ask for patience, like right now. I want to do this in the right order. I got you nice things; I want to enjoy them with you and then enjoy you. Is that so terrible?” 

Biting at your lips, you feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s words and his meaning. He was right. You knew he had spoiled you in so many ways, over and over again. Today was no different. You watched how he held the wine glass in his fingers, and it reminded you of how he held you on so many occasions, as if you’d break, like you were precious. 

“It’s not… I just want you so much. I miss you already.” 

Sliding the glass across the bar to you, Seungcheol grins, tilting his head at your wording. You missed him? He was right in front of you, albeit separated by some quartz and wood, but he knew what you meant; he would still make you say it. 

“Is that so? Sweetheart, I’m right here. How could you possibly–” 

"Cheol, you know what I mean.” 

Cutting off his words, you whine out your own, causing Seungcheol to chuckle as he pours his own glass of the port before putting the bottle to the side, picking up his glass, and bringing it to his nose as he swirls the liquid gently in the glass. 

“Why don’t you just tell me, Princess?" 

It wasn’t a question; rather, it was a request, a command. Licking your lips, your eyes move to your wine glass, your fingers running over the stem as your lips pull up into a small smirk, knowing Seungcheol’s eyes are on you. You know he’s watching as you pout your lips slightly and bat your lashes in a way that drives him crazy. 

“I miss your lips on mine; I miss them on my skin. I want you inside of me, baby.” 

Tipping his glass back against his lips, Seungcheol takes a breath through his nose as the wine hits his tongue when you finally tell him what he wants to hear. He would give you what you wanted in due time. Shaking his head, Seungcheol smiles against the delicate glass, lowering his eyes to meet yours as you take your first sip of the wine, letting out a small happy sound to the taste. 

“And I want to be inside of you, and I will be if you can be patient with me. I have a treat for you. It’s a special day, remember?” 

You smile, lifting your shoulders as you nod in response, watching Seungcheol turn the plain white box towards you. You could smell the sweet dessert, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was. It wasn’t until he lifted the lid that your mouth started to water, and you kicked your feet out of happiness. 

“My favorite…” 

“Mm, only the best for you, darling. The last slice of red velvet cake from your favorite bakery. I called ahead to make sure she put it back for me. Are you happy?” 

Lifting the fork, Seungcheol smiles, watching you nod as he cuts off the tip of the cake before turning the bite towards you and letting you lean in to take it from the fork. Watching your eyes close and listening to the sound of your pleasure from enjoying your favorite dessert causes his smile to widen, with his eyes closing very slightly. It was almost better than sharing it with you, just watching you enjoy it on your own. 

“It’s perfect. You have to try some. It’s perfect with the port. Let me?” 

With your fingers sliding over his, you take the fork from Seungcheol, cutting off the next bite of red velvet cake and offering it to him as he continues to smile at you. It’s only after urging him to take it, the crumb of the cake brushing against his lips, that your boyfriend takes the bite from the fork, his brows furrowing to the sweet taste, and he closes his eyes, savoring it. 

Taking another bite, you hum happily as Seungcheol runs his thumb along his lips to push away any remaining crumbs. Watching you eat, Seungcheol brings his wine to his lips with a smile as he uses his free hand to scroll through his phone. The atmosphere was almost perfect. The two of you in the comfort of your house, your favorite cake in front of you, shared the perfect dessert wine, but the sound of music made you look surprised. 

“Dance with me?” 

Seungcheol’s fingers run along your hand as you drop the fork on the mostly empty plate as Florence & The Machine’s Stand by Me plays quietly from the phone resting on the kitchen counter. You can only nod, letting your boyfriend spin your chair away from the island as he grins at you and your serious expression. Helping you down from the stool, Seungcheol slides his fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he takes the lead, swaying with you to the rhythm of the music. 

“What is that look for? It’s your favorite…” 

Of course, it was. Of course, he remembered. Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you smile, closing your eyes as Seungcheol hums along with the words to the song until you finally speak. 

“This is perfect, Cheol. You’ve done too much.” 

Humming as he considers your words, Seungcheol leans his head back so he can look down at you, causing you to look up at him as he does. You watch as he shakes his head, finally disagreeing with you. Gentle fingers caress your cheek before Seungcheol allows his hand to rest against the side of your neck, keeping you grounded as if you might float away from him. 

“Never enough. I love you, and it’s Valentine’s day… I’m just enjoying your company. I’m enjoying that pretty look on your face when you like something.” 

Pouting slightly, you watch as Seungcheol smiles into a laugh, leaning to gently press his lips against your pout. 

“No more pouting, sweetheart. Finish this dance with me….hm?” 

Your lips pull up against Seungcheol’s lips as his fingers trail along your neck and up against the side of your hair. Your skin was starting to feel warm again at his attention. You were wanting him badly again, feeling his body so close to yours even as the sweet words of the song attempted to keep you in the moment. 

Hearing your soft whimper when he pulls back from your lips, Seungcheol bites at his bottom lip as he lets you turn in front of him, his fingers loosely holding yours. With a gentle tug, he pulls you back into his arms as the song ends, and your eyes once again find his desire burning just under the surface. 

Seungcheol smiles, his teeth slowly sliding from his bottom lip as he shakes his head, trying to keep himself in check as you look at him like that. You listen to his gentle sigh as you feel his fingers work the zipper of your dress down your back. The weight of the material causes your dress to slide forward on your shoulders when Seungcheol takes a step back from you to press his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today? How much I love you in this dress?” 

Watching you smile, your head tilting, Seungcheol trails his fingers back up your arms to where your dress was precariously resting on your shoulders. With a gentle brush of his fingers, your dress falls to the floor, a discarded pile at your feet as his eyes move over your body. 

“But I love this even more. Shit, baby…” 

Seungcheol groans, moving his hands to your waist before scratching his nails lightly down to your hips to rest his palms over the burgundy lace that covered your body. You were driving him crazy, his cock now throbbing hard in his pants as Seungcheol’s eyes dilated, looking at you in the bodysuit. 

“Do you like it?”

Letting out a breath at your question, Seungcheol shakes his head, trying to come up with the right words, before just taking a step back and lifting his hand to rub his palm over his mouth in awe. Watching you turn in front of him, showing him every angle, your boyfriend can only scoff as you let out a playful laugh, lowering your lashes when you face him once again. That was the last straw. 

“Don’t ask silly questions, sweetheart.” 

You start to defend yourself when you find yourself lifted off your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you smile against Seungcheol’s lips as he groans to the feeling of your body flush with his as he starts the walk towards the bedroom. 

“I remember how to walk, Cheol.” 

“I don’t give a fuck." Your back hits the bed, and you feel the breath get knocked out of your lungs as Seungcheol looks down at you from the side of the bed like you were something to eat. “I wanted you here at my pace." 

Seungcheol grins as your teeth catch your red lips, pulling at them as you try to hide how much you like his words. He knew how much you liked him manhandling you and how much you were going to like everything that was going to happen to you. 

“Mm, I’m here. What are you going to do with me now, sir?" 

Fuck, you were trying to kill him. Shaking his head, Seungcheol chuckles as you tease him with not only your words but also your toes running along the inseam of his dress pants. He groans as you bite your lips, working your foot all that much closer towards his leaking cock, still trapped behind layers of clothing. 

“Exactly what you asked me for in the kitchen, darling.”

Watching Seungcheol’s hands move along his torso to undo his shirt, you laugh quietly at his words, knowing he would keep his promise. Your eyes follow his every move just as they do when your back arches and your legs cross, allowing you to press your thighs together, giving you some much needed relief from the arousal soaking into the lace barely covering your pussy. 

Clothes hit the floor in different corners until Seungcheol finally lets out a breath of relief, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking himself slowly. With his free hand, he pries your legs open, only to then bring down his palm hard on your inner thigh, granting himself a half moan, half whine from your pretty lips to the pleasurable sting. 

“Keep your legs open. With how you are acting, I might as well have let you grind on a pillow while I was getting undressed, princess. Are you that fucking needy?” 

You can only furrow your brows and nod, your fingers running along the lace covering your breasts and stomach as Seungcheol’s hands press into your thighs and trace your curves along your hips to your ass and back to your thighs once again. 

“Dying to be touched that badly? Are you ruining your present for me? I liked this piece of lingerie, but I’m more than willing," You whined, hearing and feeling the sound of lace ripping at your hips as Seungcheol’s fingers dug into the delicate material. “To replace it. I’m not, however, patient enough to fucking figure out how to get you out of it. I’d rather fuck you while you are in it.” 

Lifting your hips, your eyes move down to where Seungcheol’s fingers slide under the torn lace. You watch as he smirks, digging his fingers into the burgundy material, watching how easily it gives way to his strength before he moves his fingers to the center of your legs, running two fingers over the wet patch that had grown exponentially with his actions. 

“You like that idea, don’t you, my pretty little slut?” 

Seungcheol watches you lick your lips before you nod and rock your hips against his fingers. He knew you like the back of his hand. 

“Yes…fuck. Please, Cheol? I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve wanted you all day long.” 

You were so greedy, and he loved that about you. He was just as greedy, if not more. Grinning, Seungcheol leans down to run his tongue along the lace as he hooks a finger under it. Soon, your whines turn into full blown moans as Seungcheol runs his knuckle along your folds before circling your leaking entrance slowly with his index finger. 

Pushing into your soft, tight walls, Seungcheol groans against the wet lace, furrowing his brows. You were addictive, from your sounds to your taste. He knew you didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He could feel you squeezing around his finger like a vice, and that already had his cock twitching against your thigh at the thought of being inside of you. 

“Please….just —” 

You let out a soft, breathy whine as Seungcheol kisses your thigh, sliding a second finger into you beside his first. You wanted to complain that it wasn’t his cock, but when he rolls his fingers back towards the top of your pussy with perfect precision, the words leave your mind as quickly as they had entered them. 

Seungcheol grunts, running his lips against your soft skin, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers. He wanted to get his tongue on you. He wanted this lace out of his way, but at the same time, he didn’t want it off of you. Seungcheol hadn’t been lying about wanting to fuck you in it, so there was only one thing to be done. 

“Cheol!” 

A smirk causes Seungcheol’s lips to pull up to one side when you yell his name, feeling your lingerie give way between your legs as he uses his fingers to rip the lace apart. With nothing in his way, Seungcheol slides his fingers back into your warm pussy and runs his tongue between your folds, groaning as he circles the tip around your clit, feeling you buck your hips up against his mouth. 

You feel your stomach tightening as your orgasm starts to take over quickly with Seungcheol’s relentless actions, but it isn’t until a third finger is carefully worked in with the others that you fall over the edge. Your head thrown back against the bedding, you lace your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair, moaning his name as you cum around his fingers, feeling him smile against your folds. 

“Mm…fuck.” 

His words are muffled against your pussy as Seungcheol lets his fingers carefully slip from you, and his tongue replaces them in order to collect as much of your cum as possible. Only when your thighs shake around his head and you whimper his name, begging for him to give you a break, does Seungcheol move his mouth from between your legs, opting to press soft, wet kisses to your thighs. 

“You are trying to kill me.” 

Lips once again, pulling up at your words, Seungcheol shakes his head, nipping at your thigh, causing you to whine at feeling overstimulated once again, tugging at his hair to make him stop. 

“I’m not. I just like watching you tremble like that. You are so fucking pretty. You taste so good. I could eat you out all day long.” 

You wanted to reiterate your words after hearing his. It felt like he was trying to kill you as you felt Seungcheol’s hands sliding along your legs and up your sides as he moved between your legs to lay over you. You found yourself pouting only to hear him chuckle and to feel Seungcheol’s lips press against yours to soften the pout before the kiss turned into something much deeper and filled with longing. 

Seungcheol’s fingers press into your side next to your breast before he groans against your lips, rolling his hips to meet yours and feeling your wet folds against his aching cock. You were warm and wet, and if anyone felt like they were dying right now, it was him. He wanted to give you time to calm down after your first orgasm, but he was also aching to be inside of you after prepping you. 

“Mm, baby, you feel so good. I just…fuck.” 

You could hear the strain in his voice as you felt him rutting between your legs. Your thighs were still trembling; all you could manage were soft moans and begs against Seungcheol’s lips for him to get inside of you. At first, you aren’t sure he understands you until you feel the head of his cock press into you, and his hips slowly move to meet yours. 

The stretch, even after all of his prep, is intense. Seungcheol is a large man, from his arms to his chest and all the way to his cock, now buried inside of you as he stays still for a moment, waiting for you to adjust. Eyes locked on your face, Seungcheol takes a deep breath, feeling your walls tighten around him, causing his head to spin before you take a breath of your own and whisper his name. 

“Pl—please…need it. I want you to. You feel so good, baby. You are so big, Cheol.” 

Everything you said was bad for Seungcheol’s ego. You were always making him feel like he was the most important thing in the world and in the bedroom like he was the only man you would ever need again in your life. That was all he needed and wanted. He wanted you ruined for anyone else. He wanted to leave an imprint of himself inside of you so that you would never forget that you were his, and if you needed a reminder, he would be there every single day of your life to give it to you. 

Lips brushing against your ear, Seungcheol groans your name like a prayer. His pace quickens as he buries his cock deep inside of you. Pulling your leg up to his hip, he hisses at the feeling of your nails scratching at his biceps before thrusting hard, making you cry out in pleasure. 

“Put your leg around me, baby. I want you to cum on my cock.” You nod, letting him help you wrap your leg around his hip so that your foot rests on the top of his ass, the new angle causing you to see stars along with his words. “I fucking love the feeling of your cum on my dick, baby. Give it to me." 

Between Seungcheol’s words and the way his cock was dragging along your walls, you didn’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. The coil winding tighter and tighter snaps as Seungcheol’s teeth rake along the side of your neck, and you see white. 

With your walls gripping his cock like a vice, Seungcheol groans against your neck, his breath caught in his throat as he feels your cum coat his length with every deep thrust into your heavenly pussy. Holding your thigh tightly, Seungcheol leans back to look down at you as he starts to chase his own high. 

"God, I’m so close. Wanna leave you full of me...dripping, so I can fuck it back into you.” 

Your cheeks burn at Seungcheol’s dirty mouth, and your eyes close, causing him to chuckle before you hear his pleasured groan, knowing he truly is getting close. You could feel him getting closer. All the signs that you had grown to know over your time with him were the same. The way he would pull you closer, his hand almost bruising your skin, his hot breath on your jaw, and the way he would bury himself as deep as possible inside of you, intent on filling you fully. 

Seungcheol’s choked groans fill your ears as he falls over the edge. His warm cum spilled into you, only to be fucked back into you with deep, smooth thrusts. Catching his breath, Seungcheol smiles as he feels cum begin to seep from you and between your thighs, knowing he had done exactly what he had promised. 

Leaning back on his hand, Seungcheol groans. He helps you rest your leg back on the bed and off to the side as he continues to slowly push the mixture of his cum and yours back into your tender pussy. He could feel himself softening and how he was overstimulating himself, but it was worth it to hear your soft whimpers and to watch the cum drip from you and around his cock as you ran your fingers between your folds and through the sticky mess, much to his delight. 

“Shit…yes. Does that feel good, baby? You gonna give me one more? Use that cum to get off around me one more time tonight." 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol nods along with you as you roll your hips over his cock and your fingers, letting yourself cum one last time. Your eyes closing, and you let out a soft breath and whispered his name as your boyfriend slipped from you with a soft groan. You feel his plush, perfect lips work from your jaw to your lips before the bed feels suddenly empty for a few moments. 

Exhaustion keeps you from searching for Seungcheol as he sits on the edge of the tub, running his fingers under the taps, letting the water come to the perfect temperature. Leaning towards the door every few seconds, he checks to make sure you haven’t moved, only to smile at seeing you breathing softly, your eyes still closed as you rest, waiting for him. 

After a few minutes, you feel your lips once again press against yours, bringing you back to reality as Seungcheol’s arm moves under your back and the other under your legs. He simply grins against your cheek, hearing your soft mutters of how you could walk before he sits you on the toilet and runs his fingers over your hair, watching you finally open your eyes to look up at him. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi yourself. I ran a bath and brought the rest of our wine in here. Does that sound good?” 

Nodding, you smile, causing him to do the same. You let him help you back to your feet once you were ready. Holding on to your arms, Seungcheol helps you into the bath before sliding in behind you and letting you rest your back on his chest, his fingers running along the stem of a wine glass, the other hand resting on your stomach. 

You can’t help but smile as you bring your wine to your lips, taking a sip of the sweet wine before leaning your head back against his shoulder and feeling his lips press to the side of your head. You were exhausted, but this had been the perfect Valentine’s day. Seungcheol was the perfect Valentine, and he was your forever Valentine. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

Seungcheol’s lips against your ear; his words cause your skin to erupt with chill bumps and for you to laugh into your words as you turn to meet his lips speaking against his. 

“I love you too, Cheol. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[rafedaddy01]

Rafe knows its wrong but he wants to f his assistant

Hes Single but hes 35 and shes just 19 years old

But one day when they are all alone in the office he just cant take it any more and he takes her right on his table

At first she resists

He knows shes a virgin

But soon shes begging for more harder faster

I love a little non consensual sex ⭐️

He knows you’re a virgin. Which is why it would be so wrong for him to push everything off his desk and take you on it right now. Bunching up that little skirt and ripping your panties off before shoving his cock deep in that virgin cunt. He knows that would be wrong. But the way you’re talking, and the way you smell, and the way you look, and just overall you, makes him want to do those things to you. Even if they are wrong.

But he also knows you’d be begging for it once he was inside you. He sees the way you look at him. Eyeing him up and down when you think he’s not looking. Or the way you fix your blouse right before you walk into his office. Or the way you wear that cherry red lipstick just for him because he told you itd look good on you. He knows you want him as bad as he wants you, you’re just too shy to do anything. So rafe decides the right thing to do is be a man about it.

“Good evening, Mr. Cameron. Here are those documents you were wanting printed off this morning” you walk into his office, chirpy as usual as you place the stack of papers on his desk, and just as your about to turn away Rafes hand wraps around your wrist.

“Y/n” his voice is stern and more dominant that usual.

“Yes, sir?” You turn back to face him. Scanning his face for any sign of what you must have done wrong. But you can’t make anything out. All you see is hunger, a primal hunger, but you can’t figure out why he’s staring at you with such intensity.

“You look very pretty today” rafe let’s go of your wrist and stands up, walking in front of you and caging your body against the side of his desk.

“And you smell so good” he leans in and hold a strand of hair up to his nose as he sniffs.

“T-thank you, sir” you mutter. Having him this close makes your brain fuzzy. This man is a literal god. He’s loved, feared, and respected by everyone. Every woman tries to catch his attention, some succeed but most get shooed away like stray dogs. Rafe is a very powerful man and you know that with one wrong word or one wrong move he could make your life a living hell.

“You’re welcome” he drops the strand and watches it rest against your skin before meeting your eyes and smiling.

He leans closer, his hands falling to the desk and his body pushing yours against his desk until there’s no where for you to go but fall against the desk.

You don’t even have time to comprehend what is happening when Rafes lips land on yours. You don’t kiss back, his lips moving at a rapid pace, tongue darting out but you refuse to open your mouth and he grunts, wrapping a hand in your hair and tilting your head up by pulling on your hair, you gasp and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, moaning when you give him what he wants.

You try to push at his chest, push him back and off you so you can speak. Tell him no, this is wrong. First off he’s your boss. Second, he’s wayyy older than you.

But rafe grips your wrists once more, tightening them in his grip and pushing them away.

He finally pulls back, biting your lower lip as he pulls back.

“Rafe-“ your cut short when you hear the sound of clothes ripping.

You gasp, shocked as you look down and see he used a pair of scissors to cut down the center of your skirt.

“Rafe! What the f-“

“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll buy you another” he goes to kiss you again but this time you turn away, finally being able to push him back.

“I-I don’t want to do this, rafe. We shouldn’t- this is- please stop” you feel the tears start forming as you struggle to find your words, just wanting to get out of his office as soon as possible.

“I don’t really care what you want” Rafe says as he grabs you back, spreading your thighs and groaning when he finally sees what’s between your legs. You weren’t wearing any panties today due to it being laundry day. He laughs and shakes his head, “and you’re trying to tell me you don’t want this. Pft, little slut. Walking around my office, wearing nothing under this little skirt and expecting me not to fuck you?”

“Rafe please” you beg as you feel the warmth of his hand going up and down your thigh. Inching closer and closer to that spot you desperately want him at, but also don’t want him touching at all.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to discipline you. Show you what happens when you walk around practically naked in my office.”

You accept your defeat when you hear the belt buckle and the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

This is not how you wanted to lose your virginity. You wanted it to be with someone you loved, you wanted it to be romantic. Not against a desk with your 35 years old boss taking advantage of you. Even if he was hot and you had a little crush on him.

His tip tapped against your clit and it brought you back to reality, you didn’t even realize the pads of Rafes thumb was wiping at your teary eyes, “don’t cry baby, I’ll have you begging me to fuck you harder in just a second” he pushed all the way in, sucking the breath from your lungs as you felt the stretch his cock made inside you.

He stills a moment to let you adjust but it doesn’t last long before he pulls his hips back and thrusts in hard, groaning when he feels just how tight you really are.

His thrusts are slow but deep, it hurts but it starts to feel really good really soon. You can feel every outline and ridge and curve of his cock. Especially since he just pushed inside you without so much as a condom. You could feel everything, and it felt amazing.

“M-more, p-please” you whimpered as you relaxed your body, falling fully against the desk.

“I told you princess, all you had to do was shut up and let me in” he smirked down at your fucked out state. Poor little virgin pussy was now his. His to look at, his to fuck, his to lick and touch, and no other man ever has nor ever will lay their hands on you.

“You’re just so perfect, letting your boss fuck your virgin pussy raw. Your definitely getting a promotion after this”

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[autumnalmoons]

Your late-night company (nsfw, mdni, +18 only)

It's smut bc I'm a horny bitch (lovingly), and because I want him to split me in half--I know he can, like c'mon

Viktor x fem!Reader | 2.1K

Notes: PWP, Established relationship, set kinda between act 1 and act 2, Vaginal Fingering, Innapropiate use of Viktor's cane (sorryyyy), Dom!Viktor if you squint, Cockwarming, Nipple play, English isn't my native language so lemme know if i messed up somewhere :)

Ever since he could hear the echo of your heels reverberate around the lab like a second heartbeat, Viktor knew you were onto something—and such rhythm makes his heart pick up speed too, though Viktor’s faster than each one of your carefree strides against the dark marble floor.

You go, smooching his cheek and surely leaving a pink mark on your lipstick. Not that he minds, of course, he's used to leaving his loving marks on you, too, and even now, he can see the now purplish hickey down your collarbone that you’ve been trying to veil with a silk scarf.

“What brings you here, my darling?” Viktor hums, unconsciously seeking your lips. Is that pink lipstick the one that tastes like cherry? He’s a man of science, he’s ought to investigate.

“Nothing much. I came to bring you home,” you say, hugging his slender frame from behind, your chin hooked in the crook of his shoulder, just over his back brace. “I miss my Vitya so, so much…”

Viktor shivers, trying to ground himself in the domestic, seemingly innocent gesture of a kiss over your temple. "I miss you, too, my jewel. Alas, Progress Day is in a couple of weeks, and we need to have everything ready in case a mishap happens.” He sighs, thick brows furrowing in focus. “As usually does.”

You nod. Of course, you understand that his work is a priority, but you also have a good memory; of those two past days when you went to sleep alone. There are those familiar purple bags under his eyes, only darker.

“Hmm, alright,” you say, massaging his scalp for a bit before wandering around the lab. “Then allow me to make you company. This place is filthy, handsome.”

“Chaos potentiates creativity.”

Your chuckle reverberates around the lab, which causes Viktor to lift his chin a little higher, how easily he can make you happy.

He turns back toward his desk, hearing you going toward the closet supply to get a feathery duster, mumbling a song under your breath as you hop around cleaning surfaces and wiping down machinery with a piece of cloth.

It's only a matter of time before your plan starts, and you have calculated it just as perfectly as Viktor's equations; using your knowledge of the man next to you, his existence is the most amazing creation you've seen—much to Viktor's attempts to surpass it with his machines.

You dust off the drawer next to his desk, ‘accidentally’ knocking off one of the pens tossed over the wooden surface, further down against the wall. "Oops!" you say in your best role of an actress, which isn't that good, only for him to look your way.

The floor is cold as you brush it with your fingers, a fine layer of dust and carbon covering it. One of the windows must be open because you can feel the cold autumn wind brushing under your mischievously short skirt, one of Viktor's favorites, right against your already wet folds that the underwear you chose today isn't meant to cover.

You want him to see. Swaying your hips playfully the moment you feel his gaze burn your back.

Over the purring of the machines, you hear his air leave in a sharp inhale.

Between not wearing panties at all, you choose ones made of black lace and cute, little black ribbons decorating the most… enticing areas. The cloth down your pussy was too small, and you had to choose or covering your clit, or covering your core—which of course, you choose the eager bundle of nerves, so Viktor could see you all wet and glistening for him.

Smiling, you push the pen further down his desk, a soft—very inappropriate—groan escaping your lips, copying my memory of one of the sounds you made every time his cock presses that special spot inside of you.

“I liked that pen a lot,” Viktor mutters, though you can hear the smirk in his voice.

By now, you have no idea where that damned pen had gone. “I’m sure I can make it up for you about that,” you say, knees bending slightly, so your pussy can open a little. Only if he ever tries to play the oblivious.

A chair squeaked, and it’s impossible not to start imagining Viktor’s lithe fingers caressing the curve of your ass. Instead, you got the cold metal of his cane’s handle.

“Ah!” He chuckled at hearing your surprised gasp.

“Is that disappointment I hear, my jewel? Or just cold?” He hums, dragging the handle along the folds of your pussy until it brushes your entrance, only the tip. “You’re all dressed up for me. And I wonder… why is that, hmm?” he says, the tip of the cane playing between your folds. “Is it because you’d like to ‘keep me company’?”

“I never told you how I planned to accompany you," You mutter, feeling your legs starting to shake as the cold metal meets your boiling core, thinking that you were about to melt.

“Use your words, darling. If you’re so eager.”

There is a certain edge to his words, the hoarse tone around his R replacing the usual soft tone he uses to whisper to you when you two aren’t in the privacy of your bedroom.

“I… I thought you may need… um…” you say, voice lost with each playful movement of his cane in and out your entrance; barely some inches in, but moving it just right thanks to the exhaustive research Viktor had conducted ever since he caught you with that vibrator. Little by little, your arousal warms the metal, and you wonder if Viktor can feel it, too. “Relaxing.”

“Relaxing? My, I’d say this is rather… distracting,” he chuckles, the wheels of his stool coming closer as you hold your hands against your burning thighs. “A pleasant one, of course, but still a distraction.”

“Oh? Then do I deserve a punishment?” You try your best to quip, though your voice quivers mid-sentence.

There’s barely a heartbeat of silence, and then:

“Bend over the desk,” he says, voice stern. You could almost picture him in one of the Academy’s auditoriums giving a lecture in that tone, absolute, bossy. He knows it, of course. He knows you, after all, just like any of inventions, he had spent several hours studying you. Loving you.

Your walls squeeze nothing at the words, but the light from the descending dusk is enough for him to see it.

“Hmm,” Viktor says. “I wonder how you’ve been pleasing yourself these days that I haven’t returned home, my jewel.”

You attempt to roll over—you want to see him, because he looked just so unfairly stunning with his brown hair stuck to his temples, beads of sweat running down his chest as he bit his lip as seeing you just so shamelessly needy for him, trying to contain himself just a little longer...

He pushes your back down the desk, pinching your butt once he catches you trying to turn your head to see him.

“Oh, no, no, my love. If you are going to distract me, then you must accept the consequences.” He bends down, biting your earlobe before nuzzling his nose down your neck, taking in the sweet essence of your clothes, of your hair, the same one he could always smell on his pillow. The mix of his shampoo makes his grasp on your hips tighten.

You whine, pouted lips parting in a breathless moan when he introduces the handler of his cane inside of you, his thumb lazily rubbing circles on your clit, first clockwise, and then in the contrary direction once he feels your walls starting to contract, ushering your orgasm away.

The wet sounds of the handle coming in and out your soaked cunt fills the lab, Viktor’s stool creaking as he re-position. From the sound of his pants unbuckling, you think you know what he’s doing that needed such a good grip on his seat.

“I wonder if you’d take me as well,” he mumbles, your wet sounds mixed with a new one that could only be Viktor starting to jack off from the view of you. "All those toys and they can't replace me.” He uses his left knee to part your legs even wider, his free hand making a wrinkled mess of your skirt, just above your hips.

You huff, fingers white from grabbing the edge of the desk. “As if I’ve ever disappointed you.”

Viktor chuckles, pinching your clit slightly before letting go. The emptiness fills you when he withdraws his cane, though the narrow length is soon replaced by the thick head of his cock rubbing against your entrance.

“Mmmm,” you hum, satisfied. Your hips buckle against him, trying to take him inside of you in one thrust.  Sadly, Viktor’s punishment for keeping him away from his duties was never.-ending teasing.

Viktor caresses the curve of your ass, his hands going to brush the outline of your hips and waist until his chest is against your back once again, his big length teasing through your folds without actually giving you what you want—and yet, you know you could finish off with only this. Would he be so cruel, though?

“Come here,” he mutters against your ear, sliding a hand around your waist, and pushing you down the seat with him.

You hiss, feeling the quick buckle of his hips as his cock burrows deep inside of you, twitching at the welcoming, wet warmth of your walls. His hands take you by the hips to stop you from starting to ride him.

“Shhh, shhh. Patience, my love,” Viktor coos, nuzzling his face in the side of your neck as he bites a trail of kisses toward your shoulder, fingers gently pulling down one end of the scarf, brushing slowly down your shoulders to reveal the quite generous cut in your neckline.

Humming, approbatory, Viktor returns to his desk, with a firm grip around your waist to keep you still.

He kisses your cheek, putting his cane against the wall. The metal glistens, soaked with your juices against the reddish hue of the dying sunlight.

His right hand pushes your legs open, tangling your legs against the desk to keep them open when his fingers slide down your stomach, fingers lazily rubbing your clit.

Closing your eyes, your head lolls against his shoulder, letting him take your lips in a kiss that lets you taste the bitterness of the coffee he has just drank to keep himself awake during the night.

His tongue passes along your bottom lip, and it’s indeed that cherry-flavored lipstick, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as the hand grabbing your hip raises to grab your breasts when he grows needy, too.

“Vitya…” you moan, voice muffled as he kisses you again.

“My favorite blouse,” Viktor says, tugging down the smock of the front so he could see your lacy black bra. “So easy to access.”

You smile, hips gently swaying side to side against his lap each time he strokes your clit.

Viktor’s fingers work masterfully inside your bra, rubbing your nipple as your hands frantically undo the clip of your top so he can push the bra away.

It’s too much. Between his playful nibbles down your neck, the slow circles drawn on your clit, his fingers pinching your nipples and rubbing them to make the little peaks soft again even his cock filling you, although still, is enough to push you through the edge of pleasure. Legs shiver as your mouth stutters a moan, letting out a cry that Viktor drowned with his mouth.

“We can’t let the guards know what we’re doing, don’t you think, my jewel?”

“Why… why not?” you pant, kissing the mole peeking above his shirt’s collar. “My boyfriend fucks me so good,” you giggle.

Viktor smiled, his cock twitching at your lewd words. Your walls keep squeezing him, greedily wanting to be soaked with his cum.

"I haven't yet today," Viktor hums, deep in thought, kissing your sweaty brow. “Let me finish revising this blueprint, and we’ll go home.”

You pout, but only another heated kiss is necessary to make you respond:

“Okay,” you say, all doe-eyed now that you’re satisfied. Momentarily, of course. And that you had convinced him to go home. “But only this one blueprint. Or I’ll bite you.” You try to stand up, Viktor’s hand yanking you back between his legs before his cock could sleep out from your pussy.

“I never said you could move, my love,” Viktor says, squeezing your hips playfully. “I’d take you can be a good girl while I finish my work?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Viktor chuckles, his free hand starts to rub your overstimulated clit once again. His other hand quickly drops his pen to reach the bottom drawer of his desk, where you can see the outline of the vibrator Viktor keeps there ‘just in case’. “I suppose I just have to tire you up, then.”

[romanarose]

Yes, Mr. Miller?

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: Something something, turkeys not the only thing getting stuffed, or whatever?

or

Your dads friend, Mr. Miller, fucks you in your childhood bedroom

Warnings: Big, girthy age gap, degrading, rough sex, hair pulling, , spanking, mirror sex, PIV sex, unsafe creampie, dd/lg stuff? IDK she holds her teddy while he fucks her, mentions of loss of virginity with Joel, joel is a perve, spit

Immersability: Reader is fem, has hair, Joel is able to pick reader up and is taller than reader, reader is 21+

****************

"Fuck, look at you, dirty little thing." Joel yanks you hair back back, making you yelp in pain. "Shhhh, hush now, don't want your dad hearing his little girl getting fucked like a slut in the bed he build for her, huh?"

You whimper, and he turns you to face the closet door where a mirror was hung. Joel was looking too. You looked positively wrecked, fucked out with your hair all a mess and make running down in streaks down your face. The red lipstick was all over your mouth and his dick now.

"Daddy..." You whine, and god did you look pathetic. Joel, on the other hand looked incredible. Both of you were mostly dressed. Joel kept his black pants and cream colored shirt. He didn't even take off his belt, simply taking his cock out from where he unzipped and jamming it down your throat. When he was done abusing your mouth, with the sound of your families laughter ringing down stairs he picked you up and threw you on the bed. Placing a few of your pink frilly throw pillows under your hips, Joel gripped your hips and took you right there. The stretch was pleasurable- it always was- and a large kept your face shoved into the mattress until your cries subided.

"So fuck'n pretty, princess." Joel grunted, his body up straight as he fucked into you, gripping your hair like a harness to pull your head back. "Open"

"Yes, Mr. Miller"

You obey, you always do, open your mouth for Joel to lean over and spit directly inside.

"Swollow." He tasted like cranberry sauce and cherry pie.

Pulling his dick out, you whine, but Joel hushed you. "Gonna make sure you cum, baby, don't worry about a thing, daddy will take care of his little cock sleeve. Fuck, you look so cute in your little holiday dress, serve'n me up food... your daddy not noticing how you beeeeend" Joel pushed your knees up to your chest. "Over so I can see your pretty tits." He takes a fistful in your hand, groping you through your dress.

It was beginning to be too much: the overstimulation, the stretch of his cock, needing to cum... you begin to cry, warm tears falling down your face. "Daddy, please?"

"Ohhhhh fuck, that's it baby girl, thaaaaat's it, cry on my cock." Joel's broad body folded over you, licking a stripe up your face to taste the tears. "Almost as deicious as that pie you made me. You made cherry just me, didn't you?" He grabs your teddy, placing itin your arms for you to have something to hold.

"Yes daddy" you sob. "I know cherry is your favorite."

When your dad told you his friend, Mr. Miller was coming over for thanksgiving, you asked him all his favorites.

"Sure is, baby" He said, thrusts growing erratic and you knew he was close to cumming. "Love cherry, and you…" A hand went to play with your swollen bundle of nerves and his other aggressively smacking a tit. With his face close to yours, you smell of after-desert coffee on his breath. "Are still as tight as the day I popped yours."

You came around him then, choked sobs of pleasure as your cunt pulses around him, making Joel spill over too.

"That's it, greedy little cunt t-taking what she -oh fuck baby- taking what she needs... look at that pussy cum..." He spit on your face one last time and smears it around. "Dirty girl..."

You clutch your teddy hard as you cum, and cry into it when it was all over. You were always so emotional after sex.

Joel pried the teddy away gentle. "C'mon, princess, let daddy take care of you..." With a make-up wipe from your vanity, he cleans off your face and then pulls your underwear up and under your dress again.

"There we go, good as new..."

"Thank you, daddy..." You whisper as he pulls you to stand.

"Now you listen to me baby" Joel pinches your cheeks between his thumb and for finger, look at down at you as you eagerly await instruction. You'd do anything to make Mr. Miller proud. "I don't want you to clean up, I want you to wait ten minutes after a leave, and come join your family for the game. Anyone asks, you were resting and I was calling Sarah, got it?"

"Yes, Mr. Miller"

He smiled at that. "Now, I'm gonna go talk to your father while his daughter has her daddy's cum sloshing around in her panties, and you better hope Tommy didn't hear nothing. He always wants what I got."

He didn't even check if the coast was clear when he left your bedroom.

******************************

Maybe we'll get a part 2 with Tommy for christmas tee hee

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