#and I loaned someone my shoulder massager

[walkthroughtheforest]

Ya girl needs some serious proprioceptive feedback right now. Like if I could just fling my whole body at a padded wall or go through a squeeze machine or be steam rollered right now I think that would solve a lot of things for me

[hannieehaee]

TOO MUCH

18+ / mdi

summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.

content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 7.9k

a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread

masterlist

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Your back was killing you.

It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.

Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.

Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.

He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.

"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.

You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.

You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.

You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.

However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.

"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.

"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"

If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.

"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"

"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."

"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.

He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"

This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.

"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."

"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.

"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.

You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.

You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.

You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.

"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.

Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.

You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.

"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.

"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.

"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').

To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.

"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.

"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."

"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"

"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.

"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"

To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.

~

Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.

"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"

"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..

The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.

The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.

His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.

You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.

The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.

You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.

"So, what did you think?"

"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."

"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.

You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.

Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.

"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.

He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.

A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.

You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.

You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.

"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.

"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."

"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.

"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.

"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."

"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"

Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.

You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.

"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"

"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.

You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.

'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.

Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.

You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.

"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"

"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.

He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.

Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.

"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.

"Cheol ..." you whined.

"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."

You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.

"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.

He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.

"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."

The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.

Then he threw you yet another curveball.

He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."

You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.

He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.

"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"

He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.

He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.

"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"

You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.

You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.

Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.

"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.

"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.

You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.

"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"

You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.

"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.

He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.

All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.

"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.

"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.

You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.

He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.

He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.

He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.

"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.

"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.

Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.

Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.

He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"

"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.

With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.

"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.

"Cheollie!"

"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"

It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.

"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.

"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."

"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.

He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.

"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."

"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.

"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.

"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.

a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭

[randy-inks-writing-blog]

Lonely (Lucifer x Hellborn! GN Reader)

—————————————

Just some fluff with sad boi Lucifer for fun. Tell me what you think and what I can improve on!

Edit: You can read the fanfic on Ao3

—————————————

Succubuses and incubuses are known for their sexual activities. You, however, choose a distinct career path. Instead, you use your skills to comfort people. Give them a little massage, or a talk too. Many people are surprised to find lots of sinners have parent issues. On rare occasions, customers just want to pretend that their partner is still with them. Your coworker walked up to you with a smug smile. She stops at your desk and says “Guess who just asked for your services, (y/n)” you till your head, surely must be someone important if she’s bothering you. “Who?” you ask softly. The coworker smiles wide and answers; “the king of hell, himself!” Shocked at what your coworker says, you stood up and said “Lucifer Morningstar? Do you know what he wants? Oh, dear Satan, I gotta look good for him!” Your coworker grabs your shoulders and holds you still. “(y/n) chill, he just wants someone to talk to. Just wear something comfy, your appointment is at 3 tomorrow, ok?” You nod your head. That’s enough time to calm your nerves, hopefully.

You walk up to the doors of Lucifer’s manor, quietly you knock on the door. A small old imp opens the door for you. He bows his head and tells you to follow him to Lucifer’s room. As the two of you walked, you looked at all the portraits of Lucifer’s family. Most of them were of the missing queen and their daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The butler stops right in front of Lucifer’s room. You stop right next to the imp as he knocks on Lucifer’s door. “Sire, your guest is here.” You heard a response but could barely make any words out. The butler opens the door for you, and you slowly walked in. The room is positively a mess, rubber ducks everywhere as far as you can see. You walked over to the king’s bed and gave a small bow to him. Looking at the fallen angel’s face, he like his room looks like a mess. Small tears fall down the king’s face, looks like he’s been crying for days. You sat next to the king, being mindful of your wings and tail. Lightly, you place a hand on the king’s check and softly rub it. With caution, you spoke to the king; “Your highness, is there anything specific you need?” the crying angel answers back “call me Lucifer please. And no, I just- I just need someone to hold me like Lilith once did.”

Well, that’s a bit awkward. How long has the queen been gone for again? Seven years, who knew the king of all of hell was just a lonely guy? Hey, you’re not going to judge you’re the one who took this job. You laid down next to the king and pulled him closer to you. Lucifer’s head laid right on your chest as you wrap your wings around the king. The king cried into your chest. Good thing this is a gender non-specific fanfic. “I miss my wife; I miss her a lot. Why? Why did she have to leave me? Was I not good enough?” he sobs, making the situation more awkward for you. You ran a hand through his blonde hair with a smile before you whispered. “I think you’re good enough, Lucifer. Maybe you should stop thinking about the past and think about your future.” Lucifer looks up at you with hopeful eyes quietly he ask, “Like my daughter?” You nod your head yes, but Lucifer just looks away from you. “If only it was that easy. All I can think about is the past. I’m the one of the doom of all of humanity. I’m the one who convinces Eve to eat that fruit.” You cup Lucifer’s face and make him look at you again. “While that is true, you also help make hell, and without hell there wouldn’t be imps, hellhounds, succubuses and incubuses. And those loan sharks that have those weird Italian accents yet don’t know a single word from that language.” Lucifer listens to your talk, feeling a little better. The king nuzzles into your chest once again, finding your body heat comforting. You snuggle closer to the king; this is something you’re going to brag about to your coworker. “I guess you’re right, in a way. Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll double your tip when this is over.” Lucifer softy spoke, now feeling a little sleepy. You nod your head and lightly pet Lucifer’s hair.

—————————————

[rozaceous]

all of our ideas start out as jokes, and tbh we made our most normie version si-oc's the ones to land the big bat, but really it's bc we take professional pride in pointing out all the ways the bats fuck up their lives in a logistical and physical sense.

my half of things below the cut

His neck is killing him, but he’d thought he was better at covering himself. Unfortunately, there’s only so much to be done when turning to the right shoots an immediate spike of pain into his shoulder.

Mrs George asks him knowingly, “Having trouble with the neck, Bruce dear?”

Mrs George has been his most tolerable company so far tonight, but even so, he’s not inclined to listen to the older woman’s mother-henning if he doesn’t have to.

He flashes a smile. “Just slept funny, I’m afraid.”

He’d gotten thrown into a parked car, is more like.

“Well, I know a girl if you need that taken care of. Massage therapists—” Mrs George sniffs “—well, they tend to be a little frivolous, in my opinion, but the girl I’ve got is magic. My scoliosis, you know, but I can do the yoga now because of her. Helped Harold when he threw out his back last November, too, better than those muscle relaxants the doctor prescribed. And she’s hard to get in with, but you just let me know, I’ll pull some strings; Rosalyn and I have history. You just have to treat her like a professional, Bruce.”

Bruce does his best to weather Mrs George’s beady-eyed look and implication that he doesn’t know how to keep it in his pants. “I’m sure I’ll be right as rain tomorrow, Mrs George, but thank you.”

---

He is, unfortunately, not right as rain the next day. Or the day after. Heat, ice, stretching—nothing helps. He takes pain killers, takes half a muscle relaxant—nothing.

Bruce can feel it in his back now.

---

Rosalyn Laurence, his investigation finds—because he's not letting someone he doesn't know the slightest bit about into his home where he has a child—has no college degree, but is a licensed massage therapist, certified in multiple modalities, and formerly the lead therapist to the Gotham Knights, though that had lasted only one season. Bruce suspects that’s because of the fear gas situation the Knights had gotten tangled up in during the quarter-finals, rather than her capability; the letter of resignation on file intimates as much. After all, twenty-five year-olds making it as the lead therapist to a professional sports team didn’t just happen, and he can’t find any evidence of nepotism beyond one of her mentors being friends with the head coach. But even their email correspondence on the subject is an entirely professional recommendation of her skill. Hm.

And now it seems she works for Gotham University’s athletic center two days a week, instructs at her former massage therapy school Wednesday nights, and otherwise takes private clients. No strange purchases or income, though she does seem to have an inclination for impulse buying skin care products late at night. Stable—though by no means luxurious—finances, a retirement account, some savings. Nothing more than a couple hundred in credit card debt, a few grand in student loans, and her car loan paid off in May. An apartment in the Upper West Side, no pets, no roommates.

He digs further, but doesn’t find anything of note beyond an unfortunate adolescence and her teen years spent in foster care. Despite all that, her high school records have her as a capable athlete and student, though it seems she’d declined pursuing higher education. Lack of funds or other resources, most likely, though she ought to have qualified for scholarships with Gotham U, if anything. A friend from high school that she still texts, and a foster sibling she’s still in touch with, but all the rest of her other social circle comes from her massage career. And her personal calendar suggests that her schedule is exactly what Mrs George had said—full.

Rosalyn Laurence seems, for lack of a better word, normal.

And his neck really is killing him.

---

“Holy—!”

“Yeah, sorry, this guy’s super cranky.”

“I can feel that behind my eye,” Bruce observes with awe and misery.

“Referral sensation,” Rosalyn-or-Ros-whichever-is-fine confirms. “SCM likes to get involved with everything: headaches, restricted range of motion, tinnitus, vertigo. Like a cranky old guy who does nothing but complain, but is also at every party and is impossible to avoid.”

“I know a few of those,” says Bruce ruefully.

Rosalyn laughs. “Yeah, I bet.”

“They’ve even given me headaches, too.”

Rosalyn laughs again, light and easy, her grip on his neck shifting but never relenting. He wonders if her hands get tired.

He’s never had a massage like this—though it’s not as though he’s gotten that much massage at all. He can hardly walk into a spa and hope his various scars will go unremarked upon, and that’s even if he were inclined to let some stranger work on his naked back while he’s face down. But Rosalyn has him on a table she’d hauled into the manor with her and set up in a spare room off the side of his home gym—the one on the ground floor, of course—and he’s fully dressed and facing up and she talks about everything she’s doing before she does it.

She’s good at small talk, too, Bruce notes, which makes sense given that he doubts she gets many people falling asleep on her, and that she makes frequent requests for feedback. Bruce is good at small talk, but he gets the sense that it’s more than just politeness on Rosalyn’s part; he’s spent enough time around people with ulterior motives to recognize that sometimes, if rarely, there are people who are just nice.

It’s been maybe fifteen minutes since he’s met her, and he likes her.

Despite what she’s doing to his neck.

“Yep, that’ll be anterior scalene,” says Rosalyn, sounding amused when he can’t restrain the vocal equivalent of a grimace. “Front of your shoulder?”

“It’s almost like you’ve done this before.” He does indeed have an ache traveling into his shoulder.

“Almost!”

It’s a mildly torturous hour in her hands—he’s certainly had worse—though by the end he can turn his head with only a slight twinge at the end range. Which is his full end range, rather than halved range of motion he’d had before.

He feels like his head’s lost weight.

“I had no idea this was possible without meta powers,” Bruce tells her, entirely honest. “Are you sure you’re not a meta?”

“No special powers, all science and practice,” Rosalyn returns with a grin and a wiggle of her fingers. “I take it I pass, then?”

“Flying colors,” he assures.

“Wonderful.” She rubs her hands with sanitizer she’s pulled out of her bag. “If you have questions, feel free to call or text or email; I usually respond fastest to text, though. You might be a little sore for a day or two, but it shouldn’t be anything excessive, and it definitely shouldn’t be as bad as what you started with. If that’s not the case, please let me know.”

Bruce tips her generously—Rosalyn thanks him, but doesn’t look at how much he gave her, just tucks it into her pocket, and says he’ll have the invoice for her services in his email that night—and is refused when he offers to help her carry her now-folded table back to her rather ancient Toyota Camry.

“Got plenty of muscle to do it myself, Mr Wayne,” she says, hoisting a strap onto her shoulder and grabbing a set of handles. “And it’s not so heavy anyhow.”

“Bruce,” he reminds her. He’d had to tell her to use his first name at the beginning, too.

“Bruce,” she amends. “Also, I just fixed you up, no need to go undoing my hard work with unnecessary chivalry.”

“Ah, and there goes my ploy towards seeing you again.”

Rosalyn snorts. “You’ve got my business card for the next time you ‘sleep funny.���”

Something about the way she says it makes Bruce look twice, but Rosalyn’s expression is just as pleasant as ever.

“I’ll let you know, then,” he says as he holds the back door open. The service entrance had been closest to the room they’d used.

“Sounds like a plan, Bruce. Have a good week.” Rosalyn gives another smile and a wave as she pops her trunk.

Bruce takes his cue to step back. “You as well, Rosalyn.”

an actual AU snippet: a number of different selves

bc @rozaceous and i keep teehee-ing about 'folie a deux' and aaaaall the au's we have for our dc-siocs

money where the mouth is: bonus snippet + concept for followers

(it'll prob just be like my longer mdzs au's with one written part and the rest is just back and forth)

impetus: roz and i saw a shitpost where someone laughed at "bruce wayne x reader divorce" and said "he's already going through it and people are really inserting themselves in the narrative just to divorce him lmao"

which we then joked "damn we'd be set. he could have whatever mistress he wants as long as we could have financial support and leave us alone. we'll play his trophy wife"

and then we both realized that there would be things we couldn't let go if we ever caught wind of it. like it would drive us insane to abide by it. and thus...a version of our si's w bruce (yeah you heard me, both of us)

so here's a thing, bonus only for tumblr🙂

“I put you two in that meeting to clear up any hard feelings,” Lucius stares dead-on at his screen. He tries very hard not to pinch the bridge of his nose—composure needs to be maintained. “It can’t have gone that poorly.”

“Time is a finite resource for us lowly mortals and I’m not getting that hour back,” Vivienne grits out. “A fucking PA—where does he get off on his high horse? I hope he explodes.”

What?

“—know how many people work here, Lucius? Let alone just my division? And you’re wasting everyone’s time with each dead-on-arrival concept that gets shuffled into our portfolio and then ‘mysteriously’ yanked when it’s just good enough to Frankenstein into whatever high school science project that’s hiding in some Gotham sewer tunnel.” Her tirade is caustic and not hidden behind the typical red lipstick smiles. “Morale is dipping. There’s only so much you can pay to keep mouths shut and stop turnover.”

Vivienne makes very good points—the fact she has the acumen even three years ago was why WanyeTech moved to fund her PhD and fast-tracked her as a technical director upon entering the workforce. She caught on very quickly—too quickly—that there were private uses of certain advanced concepts within R&D, and she cared. Fortunately for WayneTech, her diligence meant increase in efficiency for the company; they’ve won several bids that have extended their reach into two new industries.

(Fortunately, WayneTech is privately held and not subject to public shareholder scrutiny.)

Unfortunately for the Batman, it meant additional roadblocks for his tools and supplies. It was by God’s grace, or something, that Vivienne didn’t decide to either blackmail them or whistle-blow. What she argued for was more oversight and appropriate man-hours and billing for certain projects that went towards a ‘private use case.’ The willingness to help (out of logistical fury) took a load off Lucius’s shoulders, but it put two new headaches in his skull: one next to each ear every time Vivienne or Bruce complained about each other peripherally.

“Does His Dark Grace think he’s not subject to g-forces?”

“Lucius. I asked for four different configurations. It should be able to fit.”

“Love his idealism—of course we have the manufacturing tolerances of an ant colony!”

“This is over-redundant and unnecessary. It gets in the way of visibility. I need a design change by two weeks.”

...and so on, so forth. So Lucius decided to cut himself out as the middleman and make the two talk to each other. A direct stakeholder meeting to capture requirements and fulfill proposals, so to speak in company terms. As both Bruce’s long-standing friend and Vivienne’s superior for her tenure at the company, he’s in the unique position to see the similarities in their personalities and (perhaps foolishly) believed they would get along after candid discussion.

And somehow, it all went to hell in a hand basket. That’s probably on Lucius for forgetting that adults were equally susceptible to playground scrapping as his six-year-old son. Thankfully, there’s less physical dirt involved or impromptu weapons, even if Vivienne looks ready to rip her stiletto heels off to use as a real stiletto.

“Vi, what do you need me to give?” Lucius straightens and prepares to negotiate. The greatest vulnerability of adding good talent is having more people in the know. Loose ends. It’d be a blow to lose Vivienne, but as long as she doesn’t talk—

“He’s lucky he’s a net good,” she snarls, now pacing in front of his desk. “He’s fucking lucky city statistics are on his side.”

“Vivienne.”

She stops mid-rant. “What.”

“Are you terminating our agreement?”

Vivienne takes a few calming breaths before rearranging her stance into something more office-appropriate rather than riled up before taking part in an illicit cage match. “No, Chief Fox. I am not,” she answers with a placid smile, tone light and even.

“Then, what would make your life easier?” Lucius does understand that she’s doing them a huge favor at an equally huge cost from herself. There’s a lot of duties that are more effort and well-beyond what someone her pay grade should need to touch; the delicate situation requires her to be equal parts every role for end-to-end conceptual design to manufacturing.

When Lucius scouted Vivienne Yang from her undergrad in Gotham University, it was by chance—there were technical managers scouting and giving PR for various capstone projects, and he decided to tag along. There, as he was browsing various posters, is where he found her. The work done by her team wasn’t novel (just par for the course with undergraduate engineers), but it was the polish that caught his eye. A methodical approach to answering the prompts given by the capstone courses, justified scope, and structured analysis and design choices that made her team’s final concept (proposed electric car design) stand out. Their value proposition considered necessary support infrastructure and manufacturing as part of their considerations.

He called them ‘her team’ because it was clear that, despite being barely 5’6” with pointed choice of footwear and surrounded by young men over a head taller with the typical engineers’ mannerisms to boot, she called the shots. Oh, of course, her teammates contributed to the questions he asked (”Andy,” young-Vivienne barked, and Team Member Andy jumped in to answer about the drivetrain sizing), but she was the systems integrator.

This was the type of skill that took years to build—usually, years of practical experience on the job—and she had it as intuition. And when Lucius corrected certain assumptions on their design, she didn't take it personally but was instead able to promptly speculate how that would shift their design point.

Thus, he put out an immediate sponsorship for her to grab an advanced degree (or two), school of her choice, research topic to be approved by whatever technical manager in WayneTech that acted as her liaison, and would jump into a stable job with a salary and employee benefits other grad students could only dream of.

Landing something as prestigious as Director of Advanced Concepts, slated for Chief Technology Officer by her 30s, in a Fortune 500 company? Barring the fact that the work was based in Gotham, crime capital of the United States, it would be something like pure fantasy to any aspiring engineer.

She took the sponsorship offer, and Lucius learns over the years that she financially supports her family living out-of-state and genuinely enjoys the various industries that intersect within WayneTech’s R&D. She likes a job well done, is practical and professional (if not overly enthused) when defense-related bids come across their table, and disdains many of the big research or tech conglomerates that make the news for various crimes or “waste of brain cells and human effort.”

Her morals aren’t obvious, but Vivienne’s choice to support Lucius’s efforts to protect Bruce in his uphill crusade is her character vouching for the Batman, even if she dislikes the actual man behind the mask and his design requirements. That she considers it still of worth is something that Lucius needs to compensate her for.

Lord knows had Bruce actually gone through with that projectile design, he’d have already lost an eye. If Vivienne says his proposed ‘Batplane’ design will vibrate into smithereens, he’s inclined to trust her on that.

“I’m going to start calling him an idiot and vetoing stupid requirements,” Vivienne declares, one eyebrow raised like she’s daring him to object.

“You mean you haven’t been doing that already?”

“Lucius, I have been nothing but polite to him. You have the CCs,” she refutes, looking at him incredulously.

He’s not sure by whose standards her scathing emails can be considered ‘polite’, but of course she can be worse. He needs to smooth this out, redo the first meeting ASAP. His hairline can’t take more of this.

“Fine, alright. Just—let’s try to set up another discussion. I’ll attend this time.”

Vivienne actually snorts. “Guess I’m never beating the PA allegations.” She looks down at her watch. “Fuck. Should have just written you an angry email. How am I going to make it five blocks in ten minutes?” She mutters and just as suddenly as she invaded his office, she strides out with a distracted, “Okay thanks, I’ll continue this later.”

He’d rather she not, but it seems she’s sticking around the Wayne Enterprises HQ building to call into her upcoming meeting; he hears her requesting a fresh notepad, a hot cup of coffee, and a private conference room and everyone outside honors those requests immediately.

That’ll give Lucius about two hours to process Vivienne’s rant, track down Bruce for his side of the story, and figure out how to smooth things out. It shouldn’t be unreasonable.

His phone call to Bruce shatters his expectations.

“You called Director Yang my what?”

[trueshellz]

Sex Trip: Getou

Warnings: softdom!Getou, dancing, kissing, massage (m receiving), Maki being a troll, prostitution mentioned, handjob, fingering, lap sitting, female reader, scratching and marking, bdsm club setting, spanking and flogging mentioned, traffic light system, inexperienced reader

Summary: You work at a sex club as a bartender with your best friend, one night your whole life changes with Suguru walks in with a proposition.

A/N: I had this song on repeat and it kind of wrote itself. It might get a Part 2 since I had to stop myself writing or it would have been so, so long.

Part of @httptamaki Shuffle Collab

It was your usual Friday evening, the lights in the club low and drinks flowing freely as inhibitions lay bare and open. Glancing around, you watched couples in various stages of undress and play, spanking and rope play, wax play and whipping going on on the main stages. You could see the owner showing someone around, nothing new since all applicants had to be screened before they could become a full member. Various security and background checks, a tour and contract in place before they could take a playmate.

"Hey there, little one."

"Hey, Mr Gojou."

You rolled your eyes with a small smile, waving at the owner as he approached the bar, sliding his favourite drink across to him before wiping the counter down. The white haired man tipped you generously, sipping his drink as he made small talk with the prospective candidate. Your attention suddenly stolen as you watched him turn to face you, onyx eyes staring at you as his gaze flickered up and down quickly, his hair tied back in a half bun leaving some long tendrils draped across his shoulders. A dark suit covering broad shoulders, dark shirt and tie stretched across a wide chest and you could see the glimpse of cufflinks and a fancy watch when he readjusted his clothing. You felt your face heat when you met his eyes again, a small grin curving his lips as he tipped an imaginary hat at you before walking away.

"He's hot!"

You jumped, gaze snapping to your best friend before covering her mouth and shushing her. His dark green hair styled perfectly, fishnet tights and shorts accentuating her perk ass and small waist. You felt her body shake as she laughed again, wrestling herself from you before pouring the drinks. She readjusted her glasses before reaching behind you and pouring some drinks, popping a cherry in her mouth as she laughed again.

"Maki, please."

"What? You were eyefucking him so hard, I got pregnant."

"I was not!"

"Uh huh. Of course."

Throwing the dishrag at her as she walked away, tray precariously balanced on her hand as she swerved in and out, you couldn't help but cast your mind back to the dark haired mystery man...

A week passed, your work busy as usual especially on the last themed night, angels and devils, you remembered how many wings and devil horns you had found around the club during clean up. You had forgotten about the mystery man until a tray was held out to you, looking up to see a sharply dressed gentleman holding it. His hair slicked back, glasses perched on his nose and white gloves on his hands.

"Erm..."

"My employer would like your company."

"I don't-"

"He's willing to reimburse you heavily."

You frowned, the hand reaching for the note suddenly pulled back as you glared at him.

"I'm not for sale or a prostitute."

"Pardon me, ma'am. My intention was not to offend. My employer would like to pay for your time since you would be away from your job."

"How much are we saying, pal?"

Head whipping around as Maki approached, planting herself on the bar as she, without a hesitation, grabbed the note from the tray and opened it. Her eyes scanning the page, widening when she got half way down before holding it out to you.

"Five grand, girly. You could do with that cash to pay off your loans."

"I don't know."

"Mr Getou would like an answer by tomorrow evening. If you agree, please fill out the questionnaire attached and wear a red scarf."

You barely had time to process what he said before he turned and left, paperwork still in your hand as you glanced at your best friend. Her eyebrows waggling suggestively, mouth curved into a wide grin before grabbing the sheets from you.

"Gimme that!"

"Oh my god! It's a sex survey! The club one. Ooh! Kinky."

"Shut up!"

"Can I help you fill it out?"

"What? No!"

"How do you feel about figging? Ooh. I'm gonna tick 'yes' for all of them."

"Maki, give it back!"

You glanced at the mirror in the staffroom three times, hand adjusting and readjusting the scarf around your wrist as you frowned. Your usual black jeans and black top, hair pinned into place and ankle boots as per the club uniform. You fixed your hair again, nervous suddenly as you looked at the survey you filled out this morning before your shift. After wrestling it away from Maki, you had decided to fill it at home where you could research everything before you signed it. Eyes glancing at the watch, you made your way to the club and waited at the bar as instructed, hand fiddling with the red scarf the whole time. You could see Maki moving around, being more than happy to cover your shift, waving back at her when she threw an exaggerated wink your way. Black shoes in your peripheral vision first, gazing up to see dark trousers and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Veins on the toned arms, no watch this time and hair in a bun, dark eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. One hand reaching out for yours, waiting and watching patiently, until what felt like minutes later you took it. Letting yourself be guided through the club to one of the private rooms upstairs, Mr Getou was being slow so you could keep up.

"Take a seat, sweetheart."

His voice washed over you, husky and confident as he sat down in one of the chairs, lounging back and resting his arm behind him as you stood awkwardly to the side. Your eyes dancing around the room taking in the various implements and tools, all new and unknown to you, before landing back on him. Something must have shown on your gace because he was smiling again.

"Why do you work here, sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "It's safe. There's security and strict protocol. Safer than some of the places my friends work at. And Mr Gojou is a good boss."

"Did you fill out the questionnaire?"

Nodding, you held it out to him while trying not to touch him, fingers on the edge of the paper barely in his personal space as he took it. Returning back to your position, almost two meters away from him as he scanned your selection. He showed no indication of his emotions, no nod or smile, simply pocketing it before he looked around the room.

"Wouldn't you like to sit down?"

"Am I allowed to?"

"Of course."

Choosing a seat opposite him, you sat down and leaned back before remembering what you had read about subs, sitting up and placing your hands on your knees quickly. Your eyes glancing at the floor in confusion, should you be sat there instead? Again, you must have given it away because you heard him chuckle a little.

"I don't want a sub, sweetheart. You're perfect as you are."

"What do I call you?"

"What would you like to call me? Sir? Master? Daddy?"

"Not daddy. Maybe sir?"

"How about we start with my name, Suguru. When you're more confident, then we can move to sir OK?" He waited until you nodded before continuing. "Tell me about the club's traffic light system."

"Red means stop. Yellow means slow down or I'm nearing my limit. Green means I'm ok, you can continue."

"What if I ignore your safeword?"

Your eyes widened, scooting back into the sofa before you glanced at the door in worry. "I tell the monitors and you would have your membership revoked permanently."

"Good. I would never do that. Ever. I will always listen to your safewords, ok?"

You didn't realise how tense you were until he said that, nodding as he suddenly stood up and held his hand out to you. You watched as he fiddled with his phone, a low song coming to play as he threw the phone on the sofa next to you and pulled you up close to him. You could smell his aftershave, the faint smell of liquor and mint on his breath, warm hands as they held your waist and rocked you side to side. Taking one hand, you couldn't help but laugh as he spun you out and then in, holding your waist gently as he turned you. Your back to his chest, rocking side to side before spinning you again, nearly tripping on the carpet until he pulled you back.

"I'm not good at this, sorry Suguru."

"Neither am I, sweetheart."

The music changed, speeding up and making you flustered as he started moving faster. Guiding you around the room seamlessly, he was obviously lying about being a bad dancer, feet moving in time with the beat until three songs had passed and you were out of breath. Your initial worries evaporated as you both flopped down onto the sofa, your body sweaty and hair plastered to your neck. Gratefully accepting the bottled water he gave you, taking a sip and smiling when he looked at you with a grin, the feeling suddenly disappearing when you glanced at the time.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought... I mean... the quiz and-"

His hand reaching to tuck your hair back, a small kiss on the back of your hand before he pulled you up and untying the red scarf from your wrist. You watched as he pocketed it, tucking it into his shirt before fixing his hair. His hand reaching for yours as he walked you to the exit, glancing down at you before placing a small kiss on your head and whispering to you.

"There's more to this than sex, trust me."

A week had passed when you saw Suguru again, his gaze meeting yours across the room when he entered. Your red scarf tucked into his jacket like a pocket square, not being able to prevent the smile on your face as you walked over to him and took his offered arm. You made small talk as he guided you to the room, asking about your week and how you had been and in turn you did the same. The music suddenly drowned out as the door closed behind you, the room dim and cosy as he guided you to sit next to him this time.

"Can I kiss you?"

Your gaze flickered to his lips, your tongue coming out to wet your own as you nodded. His hand caressing your lower lip with his thumb before leaning in, his lips softly touching yours as if asking for permission. Small pecks getting longer each time until your hand held his shirt, pulling him close to you. Eyes drifting shut as you felt his hand cup your jaw and kiss you for longer this time, pulling away to look at you.

"Tap me twice to stop ok?"

Nodding, you gasped when he pulled you closer, hand holding your waist as he licked into your mouth and groaned. Your own hands threading through his dark locks, pulling the elastic out and feeling it run through your hands. Your back hitting the sofa when he pushed you, body looming over yours as he held himself there, mouths still joined as he deepend the kiss and sucked your tongue into his. Your tapped his shoulder twice when it got too much, gasping for air when he stopped and moved back a little.

"You OK, sweetheart?"

Nodding, you ran a finger across his exposed collarbone and down to the open neck of his shirt. Watching, eyes wide as he started to unbutton it and moved your hand to touch him lower. His skin warm and hard under your hand, bronzed body toned and fit as you explored the planes of his chest.

"Shall I...?"

You let your words trail off as you gestured to your clothing, shocked when he shook his head and pulled you to sit on his lap. Your legs either side of yours as he held you, the shirt he wore now hanging off his shoulders from your wandering hands.

"No. This is for you. I don't need anything in return."

"But-"

A finger on your lips stopped you, his mouth covering yours again as he started off slow and soft. Hands resting on your calves as he let you take control, body vibrating when your hands began moving down his body again and down his sternum. The only contact was his thumb rubbing circles into your ankle, no wandering or groping hands or rough handling, no spanking or caning like you had seen. You pulled away to look at him, frowning when you suddenly thought about your time with him.

"Why don't you do anything like the other doms do?"

"Like what?"

"Spank me or flog me. I don't understand."

Thumb rubbing your lips, the one making small circles on your ankle still moving as he shook his head at you. "There's more to BDSM than spanking and shit like that. If I wanted someone for that, I would have asked for that."

"But-"

"Stop thinking about other people and what they do."

"But you're getting nothing out of this."

"Said who?"

"Me. You're not getting sex or-"

"When did I say I wanted sex? I asked for your company."

You paused, his words ringing true with you. "I wanna do something for you too." Your hands reached for the fly of his trousers, fingers running along the zip where you could feel the hard line of his dick pressed against it. Your hand quickly removed, the palm kissed as he rested it back on your lap.

"Not that. Not yet."

You couldn't help but sigh, frowning when you tried again only to have the same reaction, your hand placed back on your lap with a kiss to your palm. You really wanted to do something for him, something he would enjoy, looking around the room and seeing some scented body oils, an idea forming in your head.

"What about a massage?" He shook his head. "Shoulders and back only, I promise." You waited until he nodded before moving off his lap and grabbing some oils, sniffing each one before walking over to see him laying on his front, a sheet tucked into the back of his trousers to protect them. You kneeled next to him and poured a small amount in your hands, warming it up before gently rubbing it into his skin, watching it shine in th dim light and fade as you rubbed it in. A low groan from his mouth as you worked over his shoulder, thumbs massaging the knots there until he felt loose. You felt his thumb on your ankle again, small circles rubbing there as you continued, stopping only when he said so. His sleepy eyes meeting yours, a small smile as he thumbed your lip and whispered a 'thank you'.

To say you were confused was an understatement.

A text message a day before you were scheduled to meet him asking you to wear a skirt confused you, looking in the mirror as you zipped it up and pulled on your boots. The money he gave you each week was helping pay your bills, some being spent on clothes while the rest was put into your savings for an emergency. You decided to get off a little early and wait in your usual room, eyes darting between the door and the clock as his usual time came and went, worry gnawing into your stomach with each passing minute until the door suddenly opened and his apologetic face came into view.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. My meeting ran over and my battery died."

"It's ok."

"No, it's not, but thank you for being so sweet."

You gasped when he held a small bouquet of flowers out to you, vibrant colours of various types and smelling so pretty. Thanking him, you accepted the small kiss on your palm before placing the flowers to the side, sitting next to him as he shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie. Taking your hand again as he tugged you to his lap, humming in approval when he saw the skirt you wore. His gaze held yours as he trailed a finger up from your ankle to thigh, moving back down and over your knee gently before moving to the other side. Suguru waited for you to nod before placing his hand on your thigh, sitting up to kiss you again while his hand massaged your supple flesh and reached back to caress your ass. You couldn't stop the small gasp as his warm hand landed there, fingers running under the seam of your underwear before moving to the front and over the juncture of your thighs.

"Still OK?"

Nodding again, you held his face as your mouths met again, tongue pushing past his lips as his thumb reached under your underwear and moved through your slick folds. A gasp leaving your mouth when he gathered the slick there and started rubbing your clit, small circles at first until you keened and widened your legs for more. Hips canting to get more friction, your head dropping back when he pressed one finger inside you slowly.

"I need a colour, sweetheart."

"Green. Please don't stop."

Another finger added, curling them inside you and swallowing the moans leaving your mouth. Your hands reaching under his shirt and roaming over the expanse of his back, nails scratching the soft skin as he moved his thick fingers inside you. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, the friction making your hips stutter and twitch as he moved against your g-spot.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart? Hmm? I can feel you clenching so pretty around my fingers."

Nodding, you gasped into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you, hands gripping his shoulders as you felt yourself gush around his fingers. Small gasps when he kept fucking you through it, you could feel the wetness against your thighs and sticking to your underwear when he pulled out. His fingers glistening with your juices, sticky strings between the webs of his fingers as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean. You could feel your core pulse as his tongue moved to lick them clean, looking like he was enjoying a decadent dessert instead of your juices. Your hand reaching for his trousers again, preempting his refusal again but being shocked when he let you loosen his belt and unloop it. Belt clanging as you pulled it out, hands moving to undo the zipper and tug his boxer under his balls.

"Hands only, ok sweetheart?"

You met his gaze, confused. "You don't want me to suck you?"

"I would love nothing more, but not now. Not tonight."

His hand wrapping around yours as he grasped his dick, the skin warm and hard under your fingers. His balls heavy and swollen, dick not overly long but thick and curved upwards towards his stomach. Your thumb running over the bulbous head to gather the precum before licking it clean, his dark eyes darkening further as he watched you wrap your tongue around your thumb.

"Payback huh?"

You giggled, nodding when he smiled and trailed his hand between your legs again. Gasping when his fingers moved between your swollen folds again, rubbing in time with your hand moving up and down his dick. Your wrist twisting with each upward motion, you watched as Suguru shrugged his shirt off and let it fall onto the floor, eyes widening when you saw the scratches that you had left on his chest.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I like 'em."

Kissing you again, Suguru's hips bucked up as you moved your hands faster, thumb swirling around the head and using the precum as lube to help ease the way. You were surrounded with him, his thick fingers pressing between your legs and over your clit while his tongue licked and sucked down the column of your neck. A groan as he held your hand in place, warm liquid coating your bodies as he came. His eyes screwed shut, head leaning on your chest as his legs twitched and trembled. You couldn't help but rub around the tip again, giggling when he hissed and stopped you, lips meeting yours in a quick peck before leaning back with a smile.

Yep, still utterly confused.

Part 2 HERE

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Only You, Forever and Always [NSFW]

ao3 link! this is donna beneviento x reader! hope you all enjoy and tell me what you thought! pure fluff and smut, I think!

draga mea- my dear

inima mea - my heart

***

Being a maid at Castle Dimitrescu meant that you could easily keep yourself out of trouble by following the rules, but being the Lady’s personal maid? Absolute hell. The amount of times you had unknowingly broken a rule and got sent to the dungeons were too many for you to count. Just because you were on loan to Lady Dimitrescu from Lady Beneviento didn’t mean you got special treatment, but at least you got to come home every day to loving arms of your Lady.

You sighed as you closed the door to House Dimitrescu, Angie coming up to you immediately. “Not tonight, Ang, I had a hard shift at the Castle today. Where’s Donna?” You asked as you hung up your coat.

“Donna’s in her study, Y/N.” Angie replied. “Are you sure you’re too tired for a game of hide and seek? Mistress Donna is terribly busy.”

You patted the puppet on its head. “Maybe we’ll play before I leave in the morning, okay?” You offered. The puppet squealed before heading off, leaving you alone as you made your way to Donna’s study. You knocked softly on the door when you arrived. “Donna?”

“You may enter, dear.” Donna replied and you pushed the door open to find her up to her neck in paperwork. She didn’t have her veil on while she worked or really while in the house, but she was breathtakingly beautiful every time you saw her. Donna lifted her head and smiled at you. “How was the Castle today? Alcina wasn’t too hard on you, was she?”

You grimaced a bit. “She was in a sour mood today.” You replied. Donna frowned. “She didn’t do anything I didn’t allow her to.”

Donna nodded her head. “And what exactly did you not let her do?” Donna asked before she pursed her lips.

You walked over to her and she allowed to sit on her lap, her arms wrapping around your waist. “Well, for one, I didn’t let her have her way with me. She keeps trying, but I won’t let her.” Donna hummed. “I can’t keep denying her, Donna, she’s going to get me to break one day.” You rested your head on her shoulder.

“Oh, my dear. As long as you keep saying no, Alcina won’t touch you. And if she does then she’ll have me to deal with.” Donna pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “You seem so tense, how about a massage.” You let out a small moan at the thought of a massage causing Donna to laugh softly. “I take it you like that idea.”

You got off of her lap and let her lead you down to her bedroom. It was one of the only rooms that wasn’t riddled with puppets, paintings with wandering eyes, or a secret door. “Have you ever given someone a massage before?”

Donna nodded her head. “When I was just starting out with Mother Miranda, I gave her massages all the time. It one of the main reasons why I’m the head of House Beneviento. Each of us did something that Mother appreciated a great deal thus giving us the honour of being the heads of designated House.” Donna explained. “Now, strip and lay down, I’ll be back.”

You rid yourself of your uniform that House Dimitrescu provided you with, leaving it in the hamper for the maid to pick up whilst you slept. You laid down on the bed, our hands underneath your head. You let out a small yawn and tried to keep yourself awake until Donna came back and, surprisingly enough, you succeeded.

“Oh, my poor darling looks so tired.” Donna mused as she set the massage oil down on the bedside table. She had changed into something more comfortable for the activity knowing that her dress was bound to get in the way. She got on the bed and straddled your lower back, she leaned down to press soft kisses against your skin. “If you fall asleep, that’s fine. I just want you to relax, sweetie.” Donna murmured against your skin before pulling away.

Donna poured a generous amount of the oil in her hand before she started to knead away any knots you had in your shoulders. You let out a small moan at how good it felt. “You’ve got magic hands.” You said breathily.

“What a compliment, draga mea,” Donna continued to work on your shoulders before moving to your back. “Does this feel good, my love?” You nodded your head and sighed contently.

Suddenly, you felt kisses on your back. “Hmm, is this part of the massage?” You mumbled out. You felt the vibrations from Donna’s humming and it sent a shiver down your back. “Could you go a bit lower?” You asked. You felt Donna’s hands run down your back as she scooted to sit on the bed.

“Here?” She asked as she pressed her fingers into your lower back causing you to groan before letting out a small whimper. She kneaded your lower back for a while before sitting back. “There, do you feel any better, my love?”

You hummed. “Much better. So much better.” You replied before letting out another hum as Donna kissed down your back, rubbing her hands over your sides. “Hmm, Donna, please.”

“Please what, my love?” Donna asked.

You bit your lip for a moment before replying. “Please touch me.” You whispered. “All I can think about is her hands running over me as she tries to seduce me and I just… I want to feel you. Just you. Only you.” You said as you rolled over to look at your lover.

Donna leaned down to kiss you as she straddled you once more, her lips whispering over yours slightly as she spoke. “Of course, inima mea.” She pressed a small kiss to your lips before she started peppering kisses down your neck, trailing them down to your chest as she brought her hands up to your breasts. You moaned at her touch. “I love the sounds you make, it’s like music to my ears.” Donna trailed more kisses down your belly as she kneaded your breasts in her hands, her fingers twisting your nipples ever so slightly.

“God, Donna, you’re such a tease.” You whined as her blew her breath over your clit. You squirmed a bit. “Donna.”

“Yes, my love?” Donna asked, feigning a bit of innocence with her tone. You didn’t say anything, not really sure at what you were trying to say. Donna then pressed kisses to your thighs before she pressed her tongue against your folds causing you to moan and arch your back slightly. Your moans grew louder as she sucked and licked at you.

“Fuck, Donna, please.” You whimpered slightly when you felt her slip two fingers inside you. “God, yes, right there, my love.” You moaned as you felt yourself growing closer to your orgasm. Donna’s fingers pumped in and out of you as she continued to work your clit with her tongue. “So close, I’m so close.”

Donna removed her mouth from you but never slowed down the pace of her fingers. “Then cum, my love, you deserve it.” She leaned up to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around her neck as you felt your walls clench against her fingers. You felt Donna’s lips leave yours as your orgasm washed over you and you called out her name as she continued to slide in and out you as you rode out your orgasm only slowing down as you came down from your high.

You let out a breathy laugh. “That’s one way to ease the tension in my body, yes?” Donna merely hummed as she made her way to the washroom to clean off her hand. “Thank you, my love, for helping me.” You said softly when she reappeared.

“Anything for you, dear.” Donna replied as she slipped into the bed next to you. “I can only hope that the next time Alcina tries to seduce you, as you put it, that you only ever think of me and feel me.” She cupped your face in her hands before kissing you.

“Only you, forever and always, my love.” You sighed out contently as you pressed your face into her neck.

“Goodnight, inima mea.” The last thing you felt as you drifted off was Donna’s lips against your forehead.

[miscellaneous-bnha]

Yan! Aizawa x Fem! Reader

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten

CW: choking, dubious consent, drugging, kidnapping, alcohol use, aphrodisiac use, general yandere themes, unprotected sex, overstimulation, Aizawa has reader call him daddy

——————————

You probably should have listened when they said you should take a friend to the club, but you were having far too much fun at the moment to care.

Besides, as you quickly learned, you couldn’t even trust them.

Years of wasted time and dedication and more than enough spite for all of them spurred you into putting on your favorite dress, make up done and the best heels you could stand to wear more than a couple of hours.

You looked sexy and you knew it.

So when the handsome gentleman with enough stubble to make you bite your lip just imagining what it would feel like between your legs offered to buy you a drink, you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no.

Then he bought you another, and charmed his way into your interest, deep voice coaxing your thighs together to create some sort of friction. Sweet promises of a good time, big warm hand caressing down your back, sliding over your thigh and making you shiver in anticipation when he gave it a good squeeze.

By the end of the night, you had your legs wrapped around his hips and fingers creating jagged lines of red down his back as he fucked you into his plush mattress, deep growls and moans dragging you closer and closer to your own end.

It didn’t feel right to just leave without leaving some sort of thank you note. Especially since he’d given you an evening far more than what you’d expected, it only felt right to let him know it was appreciated.

You certainly didn’t expect him to send you a text less than 48 hours later asking if you wanted to go for drinks on your next day off. It was certainly flattering to know that such a prime specimen of a man wanted your company.

Maybe if you’d been more aware of your own surroundings, you would have noticed the red flags sooner.

—————

Your weekends were often occupied by the man himself, taking you out to high end clubs you could only dream of entering, yet here you were, sitting at the bar counter of an establishment where any single mixed drink could easily cost you half your groceries.

But if such a gorgeous man wanted to treat you, who were you to say no?

You didn’t really know all that much about him, other than his name was Shouta Aizawa and his dick game was unlike anything you’ve had before. By the time your head was spinning and you were begging for more, he was only just starting.

“Come on, kitten. Tell me how much you want it.” purred so low you could almost hear the bass in it, back arching in hopes of pushing yourself closer to him.

“Please, Shouta! I need you so bad....!” you whine, mouth falling open into a soft gasp when his hand wraps gently around your throat, his teeth tugging at your ear lobe.

“That’s not what I told you to call me, kitty. Try again.”

“Fuck... Daddy please...! Need your cock inside...” your own words trail off as he slowly squeezes his fingers around the sides of your neck, eyes rolling back as your head starts to grow clouded.

“Good girl, kitten...” you keen under his praise, eager to earn more, his free hand massaging and tugging at your nipple, “now just lay back for daddy and let me take care of you.”

You really wish you’d seen the signs.

—————

Your head throbs, light blinding you some. You scrunch your nose when you realize the sheets covering you aren’t your own. You don’t think you’ve ever fully slept through the night at Aizawa’s before.

You expect to see the dark haired male still sleeping next to you, yet the bed was empty. Cold, even, save for your own warmth. Your head throbs as you try to sit up, prompting a sharp hiss at the unnatural exhaustion in your own limbs.

You start to worry when you realize you don’t recall much from the night before, usually very diligent about knowing your limits.

The door opens with a soft click. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion when Aizawa approaches you, glass of water in hand and a bottle of painkillers in the other.

“Hey... how are you feeling?” he hands you the glass first, letting you sip at it as you struggle to remember what happened.

“Tired... head hurts. What happened?” you croak, taking the pills he pressed into your hand with a silent nod of thanks.

“Maybe that last drink was stronger than both of us thought.”

You squint for a moment, momentarily remembering that he did— in fact— recommend a drink you’d never had before, wincing when your head throbs.

“Yeah, maybe... thanks for taking care of me.” he shrugs off your thanks,

“Of course. It was partly my fault you ended up like that.”

“Even so. Thank you.”

It’s completely silent for a moment as you finish off your water, then you open your mouth to continue. “Give me about an hour and I’ll get out of your hair.”

He shakes his head, taking your empty glass. “Don’t worry about it. Stay until you feel 100% again. I’d hate for you to fall sick because of me.”

So you stay. Two hours turns into half a day. Half a day turning into one. One day turning into two. You’d started feeling better only a couple of hours ago, yet Aizawa still insisted you stay.

“Alright... but only until tomorrow morning. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” he doesn’t respond, only bidding you a quiet ‘good night’ before he shuts the door.

—————

When you wake up the next morning, you certainly feel more refreshed. Arms stretching up above your head, you let out a soft groan and sigh just as Aizawa comes in holding another glass of water and the bottle of painkillers.

“Here, just in case.” you don’t think twice when you take them with a soft ‘thank you’. You finish off the glass fairly quickly, eyes flicking up to his when he suddenly caresses your cheek. “Shouta?”

He’s silent for a beat, maybe two. “Do you even realize how gorgeous you are, kitten?” you flush from the sudden compliment,

“Oh, um... th-thank you.” you smile shyly, “you aren’t too bad yourself, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, fingers sliding under your chin to tilt your head up. You feel yourself growing more bashful the more he observes you, fingers tapping on the empty glass in your hands. He whispers something under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” you tilt your head, and his eyes snap to meet yours. He smiles stiffly.

“No, it’s nothing. Breakfast is ready, if you want to head down and eat before you go.” you shiver when he trails his fingers away from your chin and brushes against your neck, suddenly feeling very warm.

“Uhm... yeah! Sounds great.” he leaves you to your own devices again, and you feel your entire body flush with heat and... arousal?

You feel a little embarrassed, getting turned on by some praise like a school girl desperate for her lover’s approval. Your legs are surprisingly weak, and you feel even more embarrassed by the slick gathering in your panties.

You’re still trying to figure out how you’re going to stand up without falling over when Aizawa walks in again. “Everything alright?”

“Ah, yeah, um.. just having a little trouble standing.” you laugh nervously, as he starts to approach you, concern lacing his features. You’re startled by the wanton moan that leaves your mouth when he strokes your back, slapping a palm over your mouth.

On the other hand, he doesn’t seem very worried anymore.

“Kitten?” you shiver, taking in a shaky breath through your nose, “is there something you want to tell me?”

“I-I-aaah...” you find it harder to focus as his free hand touches your thigh, giving it a good squeeze. You moan into your hands again, hunching over yourself in shame.

“I— sorry, I don’t—!” you try desperately to connect the pieces in your mind, but his constant touching and groping makes your head stray farther and farther away. You don’t even realize you’re lying on your back until his hand presses down on the mattress beside your head, fingers teasing the skin just at the edge of the shirt he loaned you.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy like this, baby.” his low, low voice in your ear makes you shudder so violently that you have to grip his shoulder to ground yourself.

You feel like someone clipped a live wire to you, electricity thrumming and vibrating under your skin, heat building up higher the more wet you became until you were certain you’d just soaked your the crotch of your panties entirely.

“W-what— why—?” you pant and moan, hands simultaneously pushing him away while also pulling him closer. You don’t know if his touch is too much or too little, yet you still can’t get enough either way.

“Shhh... you’re okay kitten.” your mouth drops open into a silent scream when his knee meets your quivering cunt, hips moving to grind against it jerkily. “I know it’s uncomfortable right now, but I’ll help you.”

“Wha... what did you do...?” you wheeze, vision blurry as you try to look at him. Even you could see the self-satisfied grin on his face.

Much like the cat who caught the canary.

“I’ll admit, the pills worked a lot faster than I thought. I would have preferred to let you eat before, though this works just fine too.”

“Sh—Shouta?” you whimper, broken moans leaving your lips as he tugs on your nipples through your— his— shirt.

“I had to buy some time to keep you here, kitten.” he murmurs lowly, sucking a bruise onto your neck. You whine at the sensation, squirming and creating more friction between your legs. “I couldn’t stand letting you leave one more night.”

“I don’t.... underst-AND!” your voice hitches when he rips your panties off, thumb pressing against your clit to rub messy circles on it. You don’t even have time to brace yourself for the unexpected orgasm that crashes over you, his groans drowned out by your much louder moans and sobs, barely having been touched but still overstimulated.

Yet, even so, it still felt like you wanted more, needed more.

“I’m sorry I tricked you, baby, but those weren’t painkillers.” your eyebrows furrow, breathy little gasps keeping you from saying anything, “I needed you to want me as much as I want you.”

“... why...?” you whisper.

“Because, kitty...” he presses a soft kiss to your lips, and suddenly the delusional film over his eyes becomes crystal clear, “you’re just the perfect girl for me.”

You moan and twitch when he grinds his cock against your needy pussy, the fabric of his sweatpants making you keen high in your throat with need, hips desperately grinding back down against him.

“If you want me to make you feel better, you best start begging for it. I’ll wait all day if that’s what it takes for you to admit you need me, kitten.”

[justmaybee]

A/N: I can’t get a prompt from Chili royalty and not choose Chili—that’s just bad taste 🧐 pft, my inability to write new characters aside, I do love both of them dearly and I really hope you enjoy this fic! Also, as a Kazuha non-haver, you’re free to pillage my sea ganoderma should you please 👌🏼

Summary: Chili just—give off major ‘married for years and still madly in love vibes,’ okay? So this is just soft domestic fluff w/ some tickles thrown in ✨

From this ask game!

Childe’s hair drags against the carpet below him, caught as he stretches out the stiffness in his neck. He can feel blood rushing to his face; nothing new, he’s always been easy to burn, to flush. The head rush is entertaining though, so he might keep this up a bit longer.

His legs sway over the back of the couch, tapping sporadically on the wall behind it. The soft flick of a page catches his wandering attention, head swiveling on the floor, hair getting even messier where it’s fanned out around him.

Zhongli looks like a work of art, dressed down and casual. A book in hand with a pair of reading glasses settled on the bridge of his nose. He’s naturally eye-catching, even upside down.

It’s so annoying.

Childe kicks his leg, a little too hard, against the wall. Zhongli doesn’t react.

He’s really good at that. He’s been ignoring Childe for—ugh—how many hours, Childe can’t tell at this point.

Probably...almost one, but still.

Zhongli is smart, smarter than anyone Childe’s come across, and with his Fatui connections that’s really saying something. Of course, it’s hard to compete with a person who’s lived through the stuff scholars usually read about, so a point for Xiansheng. Still, that doesn’t keep him from wanting to know more.

At the cost of his brain becoming too big for his very handsome and very human head, Zhongli has become quite a big reader as a mortal. Always with a book on hand for bouts of quiet time throughout the work week.

But it’s the weekend. Childe is here, not on any missions out and abroad, and Zhongli is usually happy to entertain him.

So...when he slipped his arms around Childe’s waist, whispered in his ear, asking for just a little time to finish a novel on loan from an acquaintance—

It was the right thing to do. Of course he’d accommodate. Not just because Zhongli’s breath sent goosebumps across his shoulders and made his brain go a little stupid. Not at all.

But, come on, one whole hour.

Childe slips down the front of the couch, head flattening out to lay on the ground and give his crown a break. His chin pushes against the base of his throat, and he can feel the vibrations of his groan ring against the top of his chest.

That gets him the most attention he’s had in this drought. The way Zhongli taps his foot against Childe’s thigh is undoubtedly intentional, a placating gesture. It’s literally the one second touch of a foot and Childe feels more fulfilled than he’s been all day, jeez.

It does give him the best idea ever though.

Because lucky for him, Zhongli is leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, totally absorbed in his reading; and his feet are definitely within grabbing distance. And after some—ahem—investigation, Childe’s learned a lot about how ticklish a certain someone’s ankles can be…

He gets his arm a few sneaky centimeters away before the wind is knocked out of him.

Well, maybe not ‘knocked’ out of him, but he does lose his breath for a second.

And when he tunes back in, he also realizes he’s lost Zhongli. The couch arm where he was reclining only a second ago now a resting spot for his propped open book.

It’s then that Childe notices a lot of pressure where there wasn’t any before. He tilts his head up to catch a better look at his lower body.

“Oh! Hi Xiansheng!”

Zhongli tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, keeping it out of his face. He smiles down at Childe, whose smile only grows wider.

“Hello, Childe.”

“Done reading?”

Zhongli hums, settling into his straddle over Childe’s hips. His fingers tap softly.

“For the moment.”

It’s music to Childe’s ears, but it doesn’t take long for his tune to change.

Kind of hard for it not to when he notices the steady crawl of fingertips up—or maybe down?—the skin that peeks out the bottom of his shirt.

The first laugh is pulled quickly out of him, a giggle that goes squeaky when he tries to curl forward, grab at Zhongli’s creeping hands.

But not only does he have a motivated Zhongli going against him—no—this time he’s also fighting gravity.

That realization strikes harder than the last one.

“W-wahait! Aha! Xianshe—ehe! Zhonglihihihihihi!”

Childe’s a pretty fit guy. You don’t get the title of Harbinger by sitting around and picking your nose anyways. But with the force of gravity weighing on him and—oh man—the way Zhongli’s hands move to pinch up and down the curve of his sides. His ability to stay curled up gives out pretty quickly.

And when he finally falls back down—in a giggly, redder-than-usual pile—he can feel his shirt slip down with him. So now he’s tired himself out and left himself in a more compromising position.

Zhongli’s not exactly one to skip out on a good opportunity. Childe can’t blame him.

He can squeal and bat at Zhongli’s hands when they skitter well-maintained nails over his exposed stomach though.

“Noho! Zhonglihihihi! That’s so—HAH—unfahahahair! NohoHOHOHO!”

There he goes again, ignoring Childe’s words. He can hear him—definitely—because he always chooses to amp things up when he whines. And with the way he’s massaging the lowest of Childe’s ribs, making him jerk side to side in vain attempts to dodge his nimble fingers…

Yeah, he can definitely hear him.

His laughter is already shrill and explosive, breaking for quick, gasping breaths. It’s not like Zhongli’s never gotten him pinned before—it’s usually a requirement if he doesn’t want Childe trying to turn the tables—but something about this position…

It’s so weird, so difficult to get out of. The way he can feel his legs swing freely and his arms beat wildly beside him. Zhongli is sitting on top of him, sure, but he’s totally unguarded. Childe can see through teary eyes how lax he is, scratching light fingers over his sensitive skin.

He’s got no leverage, and—by this point—no energy. The weight of his own weakness holds him down and makes his torso an even easier target for Zhongli’s devilish fingers. It’s all he can do to push at Zhongli’s hands when they get close enough to reach.

At least that’s what he thinks before Zhongli’s hands start drifting back down his body. Towards—Childe realizes—his now noticeably exposed hips.

Oh, no way.

Childe can’t voice the thought, but he does get one panicked squeal out before he bucks up and flips himself around in Zhongli’s loose hold.

His face is in the carpet and Zhongli can still technically reach plenty of his (many, many) ticklish spots, but…it’s all he’s got.

And it seems to be enough. Zhongli’s hands don’t continue to prod at this weak points, just pat with a kind of finality on his butt that now pokes awkwardly into the air. His deep chuckle blends with Childe’s residual laughter, warm and comforting.

“Th-that was—uncahalled for.” The lie rolls off Childe’s lips easily, catching on a stray giggle. He has no doubt that Zhongli caught onto him earlier; got the jump on him before Childe could.

Zhongli, like always, plays along seamlessly.

“Yes, of course. I apologize,” He says with that smile that got Childe here in the first place. The one he can never say no to.

Childe shimmies his legs out from under Zhongli, tumbling over to spread out on the nice, soft floor. He must look like a disaster, all wrinkled clothes and flushed cheeks that make his whole head the same tomato kind of color.

And Zhongli…

Zhongli looks like a work of art, smile soft and fond. Despite coming out of a tickle fight—no matter how one-sided it might’ve been—he still looks absolutely perfect. Eye-catching, even upside down.

Childe is so lucky.

His grin pushes to the surface, even bigger than when Zhongli’s fingers coaxed it out of him.

“It’s okay, I still love you.”

[emwritesfootball]

Her Majesty's Men 2 | Mason Mount

Word Count: 1,512

Warnings: mentions of drugs, but that's about it. An intro to the Men

- - -

Notting Hill, London, England

Declan double- and triple-checks the address that Mason sent him as he walks the streets of Notting Hill. It’s for a pub he’s never been to before, but he’s heard rumours about a secret underground club modeled after the American Prohibition Era that has exotic dancers.

“Dec! Hey!” Mason greets Declan the moment he walks into the pub. “How have you been?”

Declan shrugs, hating that he has to break the news to Mason like this. The two of them grew up at Chelsea’s Academy together, remaining friends even when Dec got let go. A few years later, Mason was let go, too, and the boy in front of him seems to be doing fairly well. “West Ham let me go last week.”

Mason curses, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, mate. Can’t believe they can just let us go like we’re expendable.”

“Yeah.” Declan smiles ruefully, sighing. “I’m staying with my sister but I know she wants me to get a job - I want to get a job - but I don’t know where to start. I remember at that party last year with the rest of the Chelsea Dropouts where you mentioned something about working for the Queen and-” Declan pauses, confused as to why Mason is howling with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You think- ahaha - you think I work for the Queen?! Oh, my god!” Mason wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “I guess you could say I work for Liz, but not in the way you think that I do…”

“Liz? You call the Queen by a nickname?!”

Mason snorts, the laughter threatening to return again. “How about I show you instead?” He looks at his watch, draining his beer, and Declan finds himself doing the same thing. “Follow me, Deccers.”

Declan follows, his mind slightly occupied with the fact that he saw Mason drop two £20 bills on two pints at the bar before walking away.

The rumours were true. Declan can’t figure out how he couldn’t hear the raucous laughter and thumping bass from the DJ in the booth. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the DJ, but he’s impossible to place from so far away. Instead, Declan focuses on Mason, watching as his ex-teammate weaves through the crowd. It’s all women, he realizes, but then someone slaps his ass as he walks past and he turns to find an older woman looking at him appreciatively.

“Are you one of them?” She asks, shouting over the music.

“Who?” Declan responds, confused.

Before she can reply, Declan feels Mason’s hand wrap around his wrist and pull him through a door. The music dampens, seeping through the door, but only to provide a backdrop. “Don’t stop for the vultures, mate. Although, I think that one’s more of a cougar than anything.” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head.

“Hush! Like you haven’t thrown yourself to the cougars more times than any of us!” Jack Grealish’s Brummie accent gets Declan’s attention.

“Sod off!” Mason rolls his eyes, turning to Declan. “Don’t pay Jacky Boy any mind - he’s just here for the brainless hen party pussy. You might remember him from a couple friendlies between our academy teams, but I guarantee you that Jacky here probably doesn’t remember you; poor boy doesn’t even remember his own name half the time.”

Jack flips off Mason, but he keeps talking. “These are the lads that make up Her Majesty’s Men. We’re all football-academy rejects, so it’s like a family since we all know what the other’s been through. Stonesy - you’ll meet him in a bit - kinda brought us all together. It was pretty much his idea.”

Declan looks around the room, realizing where he is. The room looks like a changing room except instead of kits and boots and training gear, there’s costumes everywhere. A ratty futon that’s seen better days is against one of the walls; Jack ‘Jacky Boy’ Grealish sits on it, and something about the way he’s sitting on it tells Declan that the futon isn’t for anyone but the ex-Villa Academy player.

“Right. Anyway, this is Happy Ending Harry. Gave his youth to Tottenham, but she was a cruel mistress.” There’s a mirror with lightbulbs around it that looks like it was either stolen from Marilyn Monroe or a fifteen-year-old girl, Declan isn’t sure which. Harry Winks sits in front of the mirror, checking out his reflection as he puts on...blush? Declan wants to ask but can’t bring himself to form the words. Harry’s too lost in his own world to do much of anything, almost resembling a Ken doll in a way that both intrigues and intimidates Declan.

“Big Dick Dier. Loaned from Portugal to Everton, but you can see how that turned out. Man can speak at least two languages but there’s not a woman out there who cares about that once they catch a glimpse of what the Big Man is packing.” Eric Dier picks himself up off the floor after doing a round of push-ups, giving Declan a nod in greeting and going back to the sewing machine to work on… a g-string? Declan’s a little disgusted but he’s glad he’s not the one handling that. The man’s wide shoulders and large hands radiate Big Dick Energy and Declan would be lying to himself if he wasn’t at least a little curious to take a peek at that pecker.

“Last but not least: Tarzan Ty.” A man with dreads stands in one corner, stretching. He’s got tattoos and a massive scar on his knee that Declan’s curious about but knows better than to ask about. He looks familiar but he’s definitively older than the rest of the lads Declan has met so he’s not sure he recognizes him from any sort of training academy. Mason starts his introduction, but Ty cuts him off.

“Tyrone Mings,” he says, introducing himself for Declan. “Southampton Youth ‘til oh-nine. They let me go ‘cause I was too short - joke’s on them.” Ty laughs and Declan joins in. “Got a serious question,” he continues, shoving his non-scarred knee in Declan’s face. “That look ashy to you?”

“Uh…”

“Here,” Mason giggles, tossing him a bottle of what looks like self-tanner but Declan doesn’t question it, squirting out some of the lotion and preparing to massage it into Ty’s knee. It’s the oddest thing he’s done since being let go, but Declan just tells himself that he’s rubbed weirder substances on his own joints. He realizes that Mason was right - this place, this group of ex-footballers, really does feel like a family. He’s only been here a few minutes but already the camaraderie is there. Big Dick Dier teases Happy Ending Harry’s appearance like the two of them were teammates at Tottenham or something; Tarzan Ty has what appears to be a ritual, shoving Declan’s hands off his knee once he realizes the new boy was actually going to do it.

“So, here’s how it works. We do a group act first, then solos, followed by hot seats. If everything goes well, we get these birds all jacked up and then we raise the price of the hot seats so don’t fuck it all up for us, all right? That’s it, that’s all ya gotta do.” Declan tries to focus on what Mason is saying but it’s damn near impossible as he watches Eric stick his dick inside of the contraption and start to pump, his cock stretching to an absurd length. He quickly realizes that Eric’s got his dick inside a penis pump, watching as the big man’s already-big cock grows like the Grinch’s heart. Eric’s sporting the most insane look, his jaw slack but his eyes intense like he’s focused on something else, taking deep breaths as his cock stretches longer.

A voice entering the room cuts Mason off, the DJ coming into view. He’s speaking, but Declan can’t understand him. “This is Kyle, our DJ. Kyle, Deccers; Deccers, Kyle. He’s gonna be giving you the cue before each act.” Kyle hands Mase a water bottle filled with something and Mason’s eyes light up. “Pregame! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“It’s the love potion,” Kyle says in a weird voice, giving Declan a wide-eyed look.

“What is this? Strawberry?” Mason inspects it, pouring some of it into the cap and downing it.

“It’s a little mixture,” Kyle explains at Declan’s confused expression. “Got the recipe from a friend in Miami. He calls it Hey Juice.” Declan’s been around enough drugs to know that it’s GHB, but he keeps his mouth shut. “If you drink the whole bottle you’ll go ‘Hey!’” He flamboyantly sways and snaps his fingers. “You’re gonna like it, bro. Give it a sample.”

Declan holds up his hands, taking a step back. “I’m good, mate. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“That’s cool. More for me, I guess.” Mason shrugs, downing another cap.

The sounds of the crowd cheering start to seep through the walls, a man’s voice coming through too. “All right, all right, all right!”

“That’s Stonesy. Let’s get you ready.”

<< >>

[floralseokjin]

final sleigh drabble #3

❛ Seokjin has an idea…❜

original oneshot here // drabble index here

kim seokjin x reader  smut, oral (female receiving) 2,409 words 

Seokjin noticed Ana trailing into the kitchen first seeing as you were too busy nosing through his cupboards in hunt of something for brunch. “Good morning, or should I say,” he glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes to midday.” 

“Morning,” your best friend greeted, tone unenthusiastic. “Do you have any coffee?” 

“I made some not too long ago. It should still be hot enough.” 

You joined Seokjin who was leant up against one of the counters, watching Ana grab two mugs from the draining board. “What time did you two wake up?” She asked, looking in your direction. 

“Too early. Seokjin snores.” 

“Hey, no I don’t!” He exclaimed. “Y/N kicks in her sleep. I’m surprised I’m not black and blue.” 

Ana chuckled, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “You get used to it.” 

Folding his arms, Seokjin suddenly looking curious. “Where’s the sex god himself then?” 

As Ana poured the coffee, she immediately looked unimpressed. “Are we just going to pretend like you two weren’t up to no good last night too?” 

“Up to no good?” Seokjin repeated, turning to you with judgement in his eyes. “Why do you guys speak like you’re middle aged?” Before you could think to whack him, he was talking again. “Anyway, I have no idea what you’re referring to. Y/N and I played monopoly and were fast asleep by 11pm.” 

“Sure, now who’s middle aged?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, but really, where is Yoongi?” 

“In the shower. He asked for coffee.” 

“And you’re just going to get it for him?” Seokjin snorted. 

“I wanted some too.” 

Tutting, Seokjin pushed himself off the counter. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger already. Watch him, he may be small but he’s dangerous.” 

With a scoff, your best friend looked your way, grabbing the two mugs. “I can’t believe you’re fucking him, Y/N.” 

“Me neither.” 

Her parting words as she left the kitchen caused chaos. “No wonder she calls you dick cheese.” 

“Dick what?!” Seokjin roared in disbelief. 

Great, thanks for that, Ana... 

.

.

You spent the rest of the day at Seokjin’s place, watching lame Christmas movies on his sofa. You hadn’t brought fresh clothes, not expecting to spend the night so Seokjin had loaned you a pair of his boxers and sweats (drawstring pulled as tight it could go around your waist), plus a t-shirt, which was painful ill-fitting, but it beat your laddered tights... Ana had gone home a couple of hours ago, her and Yoongi awkwardly saying goodbye to one another as you and Seokjin watched in amusement and then soon after that Yoongi slipped out, meeting his Aunt’s family for dinner. 

Seokjin soon made use of an empty house... Right now you were stretched out on top of him, moulded against his body, your lips swollen and sticky from too much kissing. “Seokjin,” you whined lowly, needing to catch your breath.

He grunted, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your throat instead. “Mmm. You’ve made me hard again.” 

You swore this man had bountiful amounts of energy. You were still a little stiff from last night (and this morning) but grinding down on his crotch like you couldn’t help it (you couldn’t) heat pooled between your legs. “Do you want to head to your room?”

He pulled his head back and grinned impishly. “I have a better idea. Sit on my face. Right here.” To emphasise his point he slapped your ass with both hands, bumping you into his crotch again. 

“No way.” 

He frowned instantly. “No way to the sofa? Or to face sitting in general?”

You let yourself think. It was mostly the sofa situation, but the idea of just blatantly sitting on his face did make you a little self-conscious... Then again, there wasn’t really a reason to feel nervous with Seokjin. “The sofa.” You decided. 

His face lit up. “Ah, so you want to ride my face then. Dirty, dirty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you before his hands reached between your bodies to cup your boobs. You didn’t have a bra on, your nipples were so hard they practically stabbed him. 

“Get off,” you grumbled, cheeks reddening as you struggled to free yourself. He was not getting a rise out of you. “Why do you want me to do it so much?”

He wrapped his arms around you again, but loosely this time, looking up at you as if you were stupid. “Because it’ll be fucking hot!” 

You snorted, but you had to admit the way he was so enthusiastic about it was a major turn on. 

“I’ve been imagining it ever since I ate you out at work.” 

That too. 

He squeezed you and leaned up to kiss your mouth. “Death by your pussy seems an excellent way to kick the proverbial bucket.” 

You couldn’t help the smile that slowly grew on your face. “Would I go to jail for that?”

He audibly thought about it, humming loudly before he decided. “Second degree murder, I’d say.” 

“Oh, my god,” you snorted.

“Are we doing this or not?” He whined. “Because now my I could knock a hole through the wall with my dick and I’m drooling.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You got turned on by the thought of me suffocating you with my pussy?” 

“Eyy, she’s learning,” he grinned up at you. “I’ll get you to say cunt by the end of the year.” 

“Not seriously you won’t.” 

You reached for a kiss this time, his mouth dropping slightly so your tongue could meet his, and you clutched your fists to the top he wore – an evil purple and grey striped thing that stuck to the outline of his chest. You were done for. 

Breaking away, his eyelids were heavy, voice all a deep, a serious whisper. “Sit that hot, wet cunt on my face, Y/N.” 

“Stopppp,” you whined, whacking his chest and he huffed out before breaking into an annoying fit of giggles. You did not find him very funny. “Let’s go upstairs.” 

He clung to you as you tried to get up. “Yoongi won’t be back yet. We’re safe.” 

“But–

“You’re going to make me walk all the way upstairs with this in my pants. It’s weighting me down. I already did it once last night, it was exhausting.” He moaned. 

He was so dramatic. But you didn’t need much convincing. “Fine.” 

“Yes. Finally!” He exclaimed, letting you go so you were able to strip off from the waist down. You were like a woman possessed when it came to Seokjin, fighting with the drawstring of your borrowed sweatpants in a bid to get naked as fast as possible. 

He took the time to reposition himself, resting his head against the arm of the couch for support. He watched you undress, eyes sweeping over your bare c-u-n-t, and he rushed you with his hands, gesturing you to climb aboard. “Sit that pussy right on my tastebuds, baby.” 

“I am seriously questioning my life choices right now,” you told him as you moved, pausing as your legs straddled his chest. 

He shrugged. “And yet you’re about to take a seat on this throne.” 

“None of what you’re saying is making any sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you get girls at all?” 

His face fell serious. “Confession: I was a virgin before you.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoffed, jumping when his hands cupped your bare ass, massaging warmth throughout your whole body, (and most importantly what laid between your legs). 

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m way too good in the sack for that to be believable.” 

Rolling your eyes you disagreed. “Way too full of yourself maybe...” 

He chuckled but didn’t indulge you any further, nudging you forward. “Okay, enough talking, more sitting. Take this pretty face for a ride.” 

Fighting back the urge to retort, you listened, straddling his shoulders, centimetres away from his face. You instinctively tried to obstruct his view, crouching over his body, which was pretty pointless. It did nothing. 

“Don’t be shy,” he said, although his voice was softer that moments previous.

You relaxed, concentrating on the way one of his hands curved the round of your ass, giving it an instinctive squeeze. His other hand moved towards your inner thigh, spreading you apart so he could tilt his head towards your heat. He inhaled, a low groan of pleasure rumbling from his throat and you tensed up immediately. “Stop sniffing me, you pervert.” 

He pulled back, all you could see were his eyes. “Says the one who’s groping me.” 

Huh? It took you a moment to realise one of your arms was behind your back, hand cupping his junk on its own accord. You went to pull away but he objected. 

“No, don’t take your hand away!” He took the opportunity to roll his hips into your palm, urging you to continue. He was painfully solid, you could feel him perfectly over his sweatpants. You could feel his breath against your core and it was quickly becoming torture. 

“Okay, Seokjin, come on!” You pressed suddenly. How come you were doing all the pleasuring? “You practically begged me to sit on your face and you’re not even doing anything!” 

“Patience,” he chuckled, his hot breath tickling you as he exhaled. “Besides, maybe I want to make you beg for it...” 

You would not beg. Nuh uh. Let this turn into a stand-off if needed. However as luck would have it, he was feeling impatient too, and not even a couple of seconds later he had a face full of vagina, his tongue curling out to spread your folds. It felt good, don’t get you wrong, but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window. You were not alone alone. If that made sense. 

“This is so wrong,” you whispered, voice quivering when his lips dragged along your clit, breaking away from your wet heat to look up at you. You couldn’t see his mouth, but the tip of his nose glistened with your arousal. 

“What is?” He asked, confused. 

“What if someone can see in?” Ten seconds ago a man with his dog had walked along the sidewalk. 

“Unless they walk into the yard and press their face up against the window at the exact, painfully awkward angle to look through the shutters, I think we’re safe.” He sounded impatient and you guessed he had a point... You were safe. Nobody could see you sitting on Seokjin’s face. 

“Now move a little,” he told you, pushing you forward by the ass, disappearing once again. “Make a mess of me, baby, I don’t care. I want to get dirty.” 

You mean, you couldn’t really say no to that... Could you? Not when he was so eager and willing. So you started grinding. You still felt a little awkward at first, the position way too intimate to what you were used to, but with the low groans escaping Seokjin’s throat your confidence soon grew, encouraged to chase your high. 

You bunched your borrowed t-shirt up in one fist, eager to see what was going on down there and as Seokjin suctioned his lips around your clit his eyes snapped up to yours. You moaned loudly, turned on by the visual, your hips rolling involuntary. 

God, you needed to touch him again. Eagerly, you leaned back a little, your ass settled against his palms as you still attempted to jerk into his mouth, tongue now busy flicking against your clit. You were still moaning, your fingers slipping in his sweatpants from behind, feeling the warmth of his hard cock. He grunted, lifting his hips up eagerly and you immediately started jerking him off. The angle was shit, your grip and rhythm uneven but it seemed to do the trick as he groaned against you. The vibrations were something else, and unable to stop yourself, you reached for the back of his head with the hand that had been clutching the t-shirt. 

You attempted to hold him there, rolling your hips all over him despite how messy it was turning. You were very wet by now – both your doing – so the squelching noises just added fuel to the fire. This was fucking sinful but so, so addictive. 

“Ngnnn. Seokjin–!” You cried, unable to keep jerking him off with the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. You were getting distracted, greedy for the inevitable. 

“Pleaseee.” Your mouth was also running away with you, begging shamelessly. 

Seokjin grunted, no time for words as he pushed his face further into your heat (if that was possible), neck strained as he tried to meet your angle, veins hard and prominent. He was so fucking hot it was unfair. 

“Oh, my... shit, oh.” You couldn’t keep up with the rapid flick of his tongue, chest heaving as you panted. Who cared about the window now that your orgasm was nigh? Not you! Just a little bit more and you’d cum. You gripped the roots of his hair, readying yourself. He moaned loudly, loving it. 

A... little... bit... more... 

The moan that ripped from your throat signalled the beginning of the end, your whole body tensing as you teetered over the edge. “Yes, yesss, Seokjin, I’m, nghh–!” You cried, voice breaking as pleasure exploded throughout your body, every nerve feeling alive. 

You rode his tongue until you couldn’t take any more, ripping away from him to fall back on his stomach, still panting like crazy. Sitting up slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You did not make that easy at all. I’m sure I pulled a fucking muscle.” 

“Quit being a baby,” you chided. After all, he was the one that had practically begged you to sit on his face. (Not that there’d been much sitting...) 

He looked fucked out, cheeks rosy, smeared in your arousal, lips plumper than usual and the tips of his dark fringe were wet and curled. He looked insanely kissable, but before you could think to act, he was talking. 

“Care to help?” 

You frowned, unsure what he was going on about, until you felt his arm move against your hip. You looked over your shoulder, seeing his hand in his pants, the motion of the fabric moving up and down making it very obvious what he was busy doing... 

“Or are you just gonna watch me give myself a hand job?”

Now that sounded fun... 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k 

… 

Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. 

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

↳  or, my contribution to the lights, camera, action! collab : )

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux 

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

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It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.  

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.  

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -”  You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.  

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.  

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.  

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

.

.

.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.  

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.  

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.  

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”  

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.  

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.  

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

.

.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Oh Baby

Summary: The reader and TJ decide to have their first baby together and the experience is anything but simple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, pregnancy, pregnancy/delivery scare

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“Hey,” you said, rubbing TJ’s bare back in bed after he’d gotten Allie down for bed. He groaned happily as you gave him a massage, sinking further into the mattress. “You’re rocking this dad thing you know.”

“Back at ya mom,” he laughed. “You really think so? Cause I’m scared shitless half the time.”

“Same. But she’s happy and healthy and safe. We must be doing something right,” you said. He patted your leg and you slid off of him, TJ rolling to his side and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you down. “What are you thinking, handsome?”

“I noticed you haven’t taken any birth control this week,” he said. 

“We said we’d talk tonight about it. I wanted to be prepared,” you said. He brushed his hand over your cheek and your whole body felt warm at the touch. “This is way off base of our plan for kids. We can totally wait if you want to.”

“We could. But we said way back when we talked about this that when we had kids, we wanted to keep them not too many years apart. Allie will be more than two by the time we have one. I know our plans got changed completely when she came into the picture.”

“Well, the original plan was two of our own and then when they were in their teens, we’d look at adoption for number three. What do you think?” you asked.

“I think it doesn’t matter what our plan is today. It’ll probably change in some way. It already did,” he said.

“Do you want to make a baby?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, sliding his hand down to your stomach. “I can’t imagine how adorable of a child you would make. Let’s start trying. Allie deserves a brother or sister.”

“Are you sure? We could wait until your student loan is paid off,” you said.

“Did I not tell you?” he asked. You shook your head and he smirked. “Work pays off my loan for me as long as I stay there.”

“Where’s the money in the budget for your loan going then?” you asked.

“It’s still student loan but it’s for Allie or kids to use. We got plenty and you got your raise and-”

“Raise? I didn’t get a raise.”

“Jensen said just the other night…oh I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” he said.

“I’m getting a raise?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Like a big one. For how you’ve been stepping up lately,” he said. “Don’t let it out that I said something.”

“I won’t. So we can afford another kid, we have the time, the energy, Allie’s a good age...sounds like we got our ducks in a row,” you said. 

“Wanna make a baby?” he smirked. “And then love it forever and ever?”

“Fuck yes I do,” you said. “Now get naked and let’s have some fun.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Six Weeks Later

“Want me to write down anything else for the grocery store?” asked TJ as you sipped on some coffee while Allie ate part of a waffle at the breakfast table. “I haven’t bought pads or tampons in a while. You’re probably running low.”

“Yeah, you can…” you said, staring at him. “I haven’t had my period TJ. I’m two weeks late.”

“I’ll get a pregnancy test,” he said, a cautious smile on his face.

“Yeah. I’ll call the doctor, see if I can get an appointment in soon,” you said.

“I’ll be back as quick as I can,” he said. 

“Momma, waffle,” asked Allie from her high seat, opening her hand up, her plate wiped clean.

“Sure thing, honey,” you said, TJ flashing you a quick smile before he was gone.

“Hey babe,” you said half an hour later into the phone. “You still at the store?”

“Heading for checkout now. Want me to pick up-”

“I just got my period,” you said. “Just now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said. “We can do the test to make sure, like triple make sure and I still have an appointment for the afternoon.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding a little off.

“We only tried that one night,” you said. “And we weren’t really even trying. We were having more fun with not using a condom for the first time than actively trying really.”

“True. We got a little carried away,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck and his cheeks sporting a light blush if you had to guess. “Do you want to like, really try?”

You turned your head and saw Allie sticking some pads to herself where she sat on the bathroom floor and you smiled.

“For some crazy reason, yes, yes I do. Also, I need more pads. Allie’s playing with them,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll pick up something special for dinner,” he said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Three Months Later

“Another beer?” asked your dad as he stood up from your back patio. 

“I can get it,” you said, TJ handing you his empty, Allie passed out on his chest from where the three of you sat around the fire. “I want a snack anyways.”

You ruffled his head and wandered inside, your dad following you in to use the bathroom. You took out a beer and set it on the counter before you opened the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream.

“Someone’s got a sweet tooth lately,” he said. He took out a beer for himself and cracked it open, smiling at you. “Been awhile since I’ve seen you have a drink. Not that you did a lot but the empty calories line doesn’t seem so convincing at the moment considering the tub of cookie dough in your hand.”

“You think I’m pregnant?” you laughed. He shrugged and you shook your head. “No way. Just been trying to eat healthier. TJ ate most of this anyways.”

“You’re really not?” he asked.

“No. When’s mom and everybody come home again? Tomorrow? TJ and I wanted to have everybody over for dinner,” you said.

“Sounds good,” he said. You stuck your head around him, looking at TJ outside. “What’s up?”

“Okay I kinda want your opinion on something. I got a present for TJ’s birthday but I’m not sure if he’ll like it,” you said.

“What is it?” he asked. You left and ducked into your office, smiling to yourself but wiping it off your face by the time you returned. You held out a box to him, your dad opening it up. He looked confused as he held up a pair of blue sneakers. 

Very small blue sneakers.

It took him a second but soon he was staring at you, a funny look on his face you remembered seeing on your wedding day.

“Liar,” he grinned.

“I know,” you said, getting a big hug from him. 

“You’re gonna have a little boy,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“That’s what the sonogram said. You’re the first person we’ve told. We wanted to wait a few months to make sure everything was okay before we said something.”

“How far along are you?” he asked as he peeled away, staring at your stomach.

“About three months. We found out the sex earlier this week,” you said. “You can touch, it’s okay.”

“I didn’t realize you guys were trying,” he said. He put a careful hand on your stomach, smiling to himself. “You made a baby.”

“We wanted Allie’s sibling to be close in age. We only like actually tried once. We were kind of surprised it happened so fast,” you said.

“Does it feel any different than Allie? It’s not like you’re a parent for the first time again but I imagine it’s got to be a little different,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“Obviously this time I’m actually going to be the one having him but I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that different.”

“Good,” he said, smiling still. “These two are gonna grow up and not even think about who was adopted and who wasn’t.”

“TJ thinks he’s gonna have his black hair.”

“He could. Boys are a spitting image of their fathers sometimes,” he said. “A little boy. He’s gonna grow up just fine with you and TJ.”

“Do you have any advice for boys?” you asked.

“Love him the same as you love Allie. Teach him boys can love and cry and feel their feelings and to help others and he’ll turn out to be just as good a man as TJ.”

“You’re not half bad either,” you said with a smirk.

“I could have been better, especially when I was younger.”

“Dad, you were shy. Mom’s told me stories. You’ve always been good. I know you feel stuff, you just like to process it inside and on your own sometimes, like me. Look at Zepp. What other boy do you know that talks to his dad about stuff the way you guys do?”

“Oh I could name a few,” he said.

“You’re doing good is all I’m saying cause you’re good. We just hope he’s kind and good too,” you said.

“Love ‘em and the rest of it pretty much works out on its own,” he said. “Oh. Changing diapers? Cover them at all times. Like every single time. You’re gonna get pissed on a lot more with a boy, especially in the face.”

“Oh god, dad,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Just being honest,” he chuckled. “Not much difference though.”

“As long as he’s happy, I’m good,” you said. “Are you...surprised? Happy? None of the above?”

“You are a kickass mom. I can’t quite describe it but yeah, let’s just say I’m happy,” he said. “I’m so happy for you both and to have another munchkin around. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Second one should be easier, right?”

“Should. It’s your first time pregnant though. I’m sure we’re gonna run into some fun things for sure.”

Five Months Later

“Hey dad,” you said, giving him a wave in the parking lot. He smiled and you walked over before you headed off into the park with him. 

“How’s work going?” he asked. “All ready to go out next week?”

“You know most people don’t take the month off before their due date,” you said.

“Most people don’t work for mom and dad,” he chuckled. “You’re covered. I see you back at that brewery for anything more than a beer run and we’re gonna have problems.”

“I know, grumpy. I’m good. Well, I was until I was driving over here to walk and my stomach started killing me,” you said. He stopped and you walked ahead of him. “What? You forget your phone or something? We can-”

“Fucking shit,” he said. He grabbed you and you made a face as he walked you quickly back over to his car. 

“Dad, what-”

“There’s blood dripping down your leg,” he said, not even bothering with his seat belt before he was backing out and speeding away. You glanced down, a small thin streak drying on your skin. You reached under your shorts and felt more wetness, a pit forming in your stomach. “Y/N, are you listening to me?”

“What?” you said as he ran through a red light.

“I said you need to call TJ right now and tell him to meet us at County West. You’re having the baby right now.”

“S’not supposed to be bleeding,” you said quietly. 

“I know. On the bright side, it could just be a little tear and that’s what it is and you and the baby are perfectly fine.”

“When has my life ever been on the fucking bright side,” you said. “Something’s wrong isn’t it.”

Your dad hit a few buttons on the wheel before the sound of ringing filled the air.

“Sup, Jensen?” said TJ.

“County West. The baby is coming. Move your ass now,” said your dad before he hung up.

“Oh, I’m completely not worried now,” you said. You shut your eyes and by the time you opened them, you were parked and the drivers door was open. Your dad ran over to the entrance and said something, somebody coming out with a stretcher. You rolled your eyes but let a few nurses and a doctor you were guessing move you on top of it.

“How far along?” asked the doctor.

“I’m-” you said, throwing your head back when pain shot across your abdomen. You screamed, a bit surprised at yourself honestly and suddenly were inside, your dad talking a mile a minute to the people that were rushing you down the hall.

“Y/N, I’m Dr. Astle. Are you having contractions?” she asked.

“I don’t…” you said, shouting again when pain hit you. “Gah, it’s not supposed to hurt that bad, right?”

“No, it’s not,” she said. You kicked when you felt it happening again, your dad grabbing your hand and using his other to run over your head. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “The doctor’s are gonna fix you and the baby up like that.”

“We need to do an emergency C-section,” said Dr. Astle as you realized your shorts had been cut off.

“Dad don’t look that way,” you said.

“You and me right here,” he said with a smile. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be just fine. Just breathe.”

“TJ needs to be here,” you said. 

“Tall munchkin I don’t think they can wait,” he said.

“They’re gonna wait over my-” you said, a flop of sweaty black hair running past the room. “TJ!”

“Hey!” he said as he jogged back to the doorway. “Are-holy shit. That’s a lot of blood.”

“TJ, up here,” said your dad. 

“We need somebody from maternity, Dr. Astle,” said a nurse.

“Baby and mom do not have the time. You’re the husband?” asked the doctor, TJ nodding. “If mom passes out, you’re calling the shots.”

“Please don’t pass out,” said TJ.

“I’ll try…” you said, something tearing inside and you were out before you could even register the pain.

You woke up in a quiet room, your dad sitting in a chair and bouncing his leg like crazy. You tried to stretch and felt your abdomen was flatter, hand instantly shooting to it. You looked around but saw no sign of TJ or a baby and swallowed.

“Dad,” you said quietly. His head shot up and he was out of his chair like that. 

“Hey. How you feeling?” he asked.

“Is the baby…” you swallowed.

“He is a perfectly healthy boy. Big boy. Your due date was off by a couple weeks they think. You were over nine months. He got a little too big for ya. The placenta started to tear and he was kicking at it they think which is why you were in so much pain,” he said.

“Okay,” you said with a big smile. “As long as he’s good, I’m good.”

“He’s up in the nursery with TJ, just letting him get some rest while you got some. You had some pain but you’re okay. Perfectly capable of more kids. Maybe we use a different doctor next time is all,” he said.

“Can I go see him?” you asked, surprised to not feel a bandage across your stomach. “I thought they did a C-section?”

“Well, you passed out pushing him out in one go. Doc said you’d be sore for awhile,” he said. “Let me go see if I can find your boys.”

“Dad,” you said as he turned to go. “Did I do that?”

You nodded to his bruised hand and he shrugged.

“Let’s just say in labor you is kind of terrifying,” he said. 

“Dad,” you said and he sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you. I was freaking out before.”

“Little secret, I was freaking out more,” he said with a chuckle. “You, you were just thinking about the baby. Me, me I was thinking about the baby and you. Understand?”

“Yeah. Go get me my son, old timer,” you said, shutting your eyes again.

“Yes mam,” he said, rubbing your arm. “You did real good today, kiddo.”

“I’m getting a letter later, aren’t I,” you said. He laughed and felt him ruffle your hair.

“I’ll save it for when you guys head home. Nothing’s gonna top this,” he said. You heard the door open and opened your eyes, TJ walking inside with a bundle of blankets in his arms.

“You’re kind of a badass, you know that right?” he said.

“It’s why you married me, isn’t it?” you teased. “I want to meet him.”

“I told you I’d bring you back around to see mommy,” he said. Your dad slipped out as TJ sat on the edge of the bed and handed you over your son. You giggled when you saw the black head of hair under his blue cap. “Told you he’d have my hair.”

“It’s a good thing your daddy is pretty,” you said, booping his little nose. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“I was at work. I took the stairs and then sprinted over. The hospital’s only a few blocks away,” he said.

“Why are you in scrubs?” you laughed.

“May or may not have ripped my pants in the said sprinting. Your mom is gonna bring me some clothes when she comes up. Somebody had to go and be all dramatic with his entrance,” he said.

“Dad said the doctor got my due date wrong,” you said.

“Based on my math, you actually did get pregnant that first night we fooled around. Your period was super light when you had it and the doctor did say some people can have them during pregnancy, especially at the beginning if…”

“Dude. I know how it works,” you said. “He’s cute.”

“I know. There’s a couple of really ugly babies down the hall. We got lucky,” he said. You laughed and the baby looked up at you, quickly shutting his eyes. “Someone’s smitten.”

“He’s not the only one,” you said. “You ever decide on a boy’s name?”

“What do you think about Colin? I know it wasn’t on the list but-”

“It’s perfect,” you said, giving the baby a kiss. “Just like you, aren’t you Colin.”

One Week Later

“Dad,” you said when you caught him peeking over the back of the couch again. “He didn’t wake up in the span of the last three seconds you weren’t looking at him.”

“Your father’s in love,” laughed your mom as she set a bag of takeout down in front of you. “I got tacos, burritos, quesadillas, nachos and brisket per your request.”

“Mmm,” you said, TJ reaching his hand into the bag. You stared up at him and he slowly backed away. “That’s what I thought.”

“TJ, yours is in with the other containers,” she said, setting a few containers down on the counter. Your siblings all grabbed one and took off to the movie room, JJ taking Allie up with them and your mom and TJ wandering into the kitchen and talking quietly. Your dad was still looking over the back of the couch and smiling down into the crib. 

“He awake?” you asked.

“No. Just adorable,” he said. 

“Well get dinner grandpa,” you said, reaching over to the end table for your drink and pausing. You shut your eyes and felt it pass, your dad suddenly right there and helping you to your feet. “Thanks.”

“Still sore?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. You sat up at the counter, grabbing a taco first and taking a big bite. “I’ve been dying for one of these for months.”

“Hopefully the spice doesn’t bother you too much,” he said, stealing a nacho from your bag. He looked over at the crib, Colin making a half-giggle sound. “Kiddo. Do me a favor.”

“What?” you asked.

“Enjoy it. They grow up faster than you think,” he said.

“I know,” you said. He nodded and you saw him look sad for a split second. “Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Just cause I made a baby doesn’t mean I’m not your kid anymore,” you said. “Based on how you are, I’ll never grow up so win-win for you.”

“Loser,” he said, ruffling your hair with a smile before he took your burrito. “Speaking of which, I was gonna prank the trio once they start watching scary movies later. You in?”

“Duh,” you said.

“That’s my girl.”

___________

A/N: Read the Jensen’s Day timestamp here!

[thishintoflove]

‘tis the damn season - A Narcos Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 3

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: 18 + Explicit (Language, P/V sex, Car sex), 2.4k words of angsty smut

Summary: You and Javi are former high school sweethearts who occasionally meet up when you’re both back in town. Inspired by Texas!Javi from season 3 episode 1 of Narcos.

A/N: Thank you very much for reading this series and reblogging/commenting/liking, etc. I appreciate it so much!

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you

It's the same to me

You called him the night after Christmas. Your parents were in bed, your sister and nephews had returned home, and you were alone on the couch at your parents’ house.

You knew he was home for the holidays too. You’d seen him at Mass the day before last. He’d caught your eye as he passed by your family’s pew, walking quietly beside his father who seemed to stop and greet every person they passed. He gave you a small nod before moving on.

When you’d first caught a glimpse of him, you thought that maybe you were over it. Maybe you didn’t need him this time. Maybe the two of you could be in this damn town at the same time and not fall into old habits.

But now you're lonely and you're calling your ex high school sweetheart the day after Christmas, asking to meet up for old times sake.

“Javi…” you whispered into the landline when you heard him pick up.

“Want to meet at the usual spot?”

No greeting. He knew it was you. He knew what you were calling for. It’s been your pattern for so many years now.

“I…” you hesitate for a moment, but you knew you weren’t going to change your mind. It was too late and you needed him, even if you tried to convince yourself you didn’t. “Yeah, the usual spot.”

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes. Look for my dad’s truck.”

And it always leads to you in my hometown

I parkеd my car right between the Methodist

And thе school that used to be ours

The first thing you did after you hopped into the passenger seat of the truck was kiss him. Javi reached forward to cup the sides of your face, kissing you back just as desperately. His mustache scraped the sensitive skin around your mouth but you didn’t care. It felt like coming home.

Your back protested as you leaned across the console. You were too old for this. He was too old for this. But this was the way when it came to the two of you.

You moaned into his mouth as he bit your lip and his hands slipped down to caress your sides. Javi moved away from your lips and trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw, and then your neck. You gasped as he found the sensitive spot below your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders as he sucked. You couldn’t help the way you squirmed in your seat, desperate for more friction.

In high school you used to kiss like this on any available surface. Against the lockers, on the bleachers, in your childhood bedroom, in the older model of his dad’s truck. You were always searching for a place to be alone and explore each others’ bodies. Sometimes it felt like nothing had really changed.

The holidays linger like bad perfume

You can run, but only so far

I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me

Laredo, Texas called you home for the holidays and you showed up like the dutiful daughter you were. Los Angeles wasn’t that far, comparatively, but you didn’t like the feelings that your hometown created in you. The expectations. The traditions. The disappointment.

He was back from Columbia, on his once-per-year-at-best visit. He always had to one-up you. You were considered a rebel for running off to LA to pursue a journalism career. But he went so far as to leave the country.

And maybe that’s why you continued to be drawn to one another. Laredo was a living time capsule to the two of you. It grew and changed for the people who lived there, but to you it will always be the place where you grew up dreaming of someplace else. So when you came back, you sought out the few things that hadn’t changed. He was familiar and safe, and even if he only lived in Laredo in your heart, it felt good to know you had someone waiting here for you when you came back.

Javi’s hand on your breast pulled you back to the present. You got the message and yanked your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. His eyes darkened as he stared at your chest before capturing your lips once more. You could feel his grin as he easily popped the clasp on your bra and used one large hand to massage your breast, the other tangling in your hair. It was hot and desperate, and you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped as he tweaked your nipple.

“God, Javi, that feels amazing,” you gasped, your nerves tingling at all the sensations. It’s been longer than you care to admit since you had a man in bed and you were already embarrassingly wet. Javi knew all of your quirks and special spots, and he was all but guaranteed to make you see stars every time.

He pulled away for a moment to pull the lever on his seat, pushing it back as far as it would go before grasping at you. You didn’t hesitate-- you climbed over the center console to sit in his lap and immediately crushed your lips together again. He was already rock hard against your thigh so at least you weren’t the only one in danger of coming as quickly as you did as teenagers.

You ground your hips down against him, earning a loan groan as he squeezed your thighs with both hands. You fumbled with his belt as he slipped your jeans down. He slid one finger inside you, then another, working you open gently but efficiently. You moaned and dropped your head to his shoulder as you thrust against his hand. You let your own hands wander across his shoulders and the expanse of his back.

We could call it even

You could call me babe for the weekend

I'm stayin' at my parents' house

And the road not taken looks real good now

His body was achingly familiar, even with the changes caused by stress and time. His arms and his back were still muscled and his shoulders were as broad as ever, but his middle had softened and he had a bit of a tummy now. There were a few more wrinkles at the corners of his eyes than last time and there was a hint of grey in the stubble on his cheeks. But it didn’t matter. You were older and softer too. His eyes were the same deep chocolate brown as they always had been and he still moaned the same way when you tugged at the softly curled hair at the base of his skull.

You didn’t keep meeting him because you expected to see the same bright eyed, strapping boy of your youth. Even decades later, you wanted Javi because he was… well because he was Javi. And even if you only spoke a few times a year now, there was something about his presence that felt like coming home.

"God baby, the things I want to do to you..." he rasped, pulling back to look at you for a moment with lust darkened eyes.

You shushed him and leaned forward to capture his mouth again. You slipped a hand down to free him from his boxer briefs, giving him a quick tug that sent his eyes rolling back in his head. Before you could guide him in, he reached a hand down,

"Condom?" he ground out, glancing up at you from under his dark lashes. You cursed and reached back to the passenger seat for your purse and pulled one out. You handed it to him and slid back towards his knees as he fumbled with the packet.

"Hurry up. Need you now," you murmured, tugging at his ear with your teeth.

“Fuck,” he swore, finally rolling the damn thing on.

You grinned and pushed your hips down on him, eliciting a deep groan. He slipped inside, letting you have a moment to adjust before giving a shallow thrust. Soon you were moving in tandem, two bodies so familiar with each other that you didn’t need to speak.

Javi set a fast pace, driving into you hard and deep. “You’re so wet for me. Always are,” he told you between grunts, “What did I do to deserve you, baby?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” you moaned back. You put your hands on his chest, giving yourself leverage to twist as you moved up and down.

Javi gripped your hips tightly and you knew you’d have bruises later but you didn’t care. Your breathing picked up in time with his thrusts, and soon you could feel the pressure building deep inside your core. He slipped a hand down and rubbed your clit, and after only a few more thrusts you were undone. Your orgasm crashed over you and you cried out as your muscles clenched around him. You could tell he was close too as his thrusts became more erratic. Still reveling in the aftershocks, you leaned down and whispered in his ear, “cum for me, Javi”, and like a magic word he obeyed. He grunted as he spilled into the condom, pulling you close and then collapsing back against the seat.

You both lay still for a moment, letting your breathing return to normal. You reached up and brushed some stray hairs off his sweaty forehead before turning and resting your head against his shoulder. He buried his face in your hair and sighed. He mumbled something, but you were too blissed out and tired to tell what it was.

I wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'

And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

You remember being in high school. Being in love for the first time. Having sex for the first time.

Javier was your first in so many ways. You weren’t the type of girl to dream about your big white wedding, but you truly believed you loved him.

But as graduation crept near, the claustrophobia set in. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t you. It was both of you-- the pair of you were too similar. The world was so much bigger than Laredo and you both knew it. You were both too practical for your own good. So you left for journalism school in California, and he took a different, more dangerous path.

You couldn’t help but think about the road not taken as you rested against his sweaty chest. Javi surprised you by speaking first.

“You’re the only good part about coming back here, cariño.”

You pulled back to look at him, “That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah? You think I come back to Laredo to shop at strip malls and drink watered down margaritas?” he scoffed.

“You come back to see your father. I know how much you love him, even if you’re not as close as you were,” you replied, absentmindedly tracing his jaw with one finger, “And don’t try to pretend that you come back here just for me.”

Javi caught your hand in his own, brought it up to his lips, and gave the inside of your wrist a small kiss.

“Maybe you’re not the only reason,“ he said, “But you’re certainly a contributing factor. I love seeing you.”

It was always like this with Javi. It was easy to daydream about a future together when you were face to face-- in your post-coital haze, everything sounded so good and so easy. But you knew the truth.

He was lonely. You were lonely. And in the light of day, it would never work.

Once again you thought about how similar you were. Your careers were your first priority and you both solved your loneliness with casual sex. It could never be the other way around. Neither of you would be content with a quiet, domestic life.

“I like catching up with you too, Javi,” you replied, leaning in to press one more kiss to his lips, “But tomorrow we’re both going to catch a plane to very different places, and all of this will be a distant memory.”

You pulled away and slid back over to the passenger seat of the truck, feeling cold.

We could call it even

Even though I'm leavin'

And I'll be yours for the weekend

'Tis the damn season

You tried not to look at him as you adjusted your shirt and buttoned your pants, but you could feel him watching you. The windows were down and a slight breeze blew through the truck, but your goosebumps weren’t due to the cool night wind. You finally looked up at him again.

“What?” you asked. He blinked at you and then glanced down, focusing on re-buttoning his shirt.

“When’s the next time you’ll be in town?”

“Probably not until the summer, at the earliest. When will you be back? Two years from now?” you answered, rolling your eyes.

His silence answered your question and you knew him well enough to guess that he had no plans to come back here anytime soon. You tried not to think about the fact that he could die half a world away in the span of time before you might possibly see each other again. Worrying about Javier was the last thing you needed and you reminded yourself that he wasn’t really yours to worry about.

He was going back to Columbia and you had to focus on your career. You had your own life to live.

You hated how small your voice sounded when you finally spoke again. “What if I said that this is the last time?”

Javi let out a humorless chuckle, “You say that every time, baby.”

“I mean it, Javi. Maybe next year I’ll have a real boyfriend. Maybe I’ll get married on a whim-- do the whole ‘settling down’ thing.”

Javi hummed and reached over to brush your hair off your face. “If you’re married by the time I see you again, I promise I won’t say anything except ‘hello’ and ‘congratulations’.”

He pressed a light kiss to your temple before pulling away.

“But if you’re not married,” he continued, “I’ll meet you right here. Same spot. Same time.”

And who were you to disagree with Javier Peña?

[chimchimsauce]

XS (V - Honesty)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Yoonji doesn't say anything as she helps YN out of her dress and YN isn't sure if she feels relieved or even more terrified. On one hand, she's grateful for the silence, not wanting to be bombarded after such a stressful encounter. But on the other hand . . . Yoonji doesn't say anything to imply that things will get better or that Taehyung - the man who is to become her husband in just a few short hours - isn't as violent and terrible as he seems.

"Yoonji," YN begins as the other woman begins to run a tub of warm water in the beautiful bathroom, "Can you be honest with me?"

Yoonji doesn't turn away immediately, instead finishing her task. When she turns to YN, her face is blank.

"Honest about what?" she asks, helping YN undress entirely.

YN wants to be embarrassed but she doesn't have the energy to.

"What is my life going to be like?" she asks, wincing as she steps into the bathwater.

Her stomach hurts like crazy and she will absolutely have an ugly bruise in a few days.

Yoonji scoops a pitcher into the milky water, pouring it over YN's head. YN coughs, choking on the unexpected water.

"Do what he says and you'll be fine," Yoonji says, unbothered by YN's coughing, "As long as you do what's expected of you, he won't hurt you . . . probably."

Yoonji dumps water over YN's head again and the woman leans forward, trying to get away from Yoonji's grasp.

"Stop moving," Yoonji says, poring some product into her hands and raking it through YN's hair.

YN wipes her face, water clinging to her eyelashes. She can't help but think that Yoonji is upset at her for some reason. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. YN had been hoping that in the very least she'd have someone who didn't terrify her to keep her company but it seems like that won't be the case.

YN sniffs, lungs hurting from all the coughing. Her eyes tear up and she can't tell if it's from pain or emotional distress. She doesn't ask any more questions as Yoonji scrubs her down with brown sugar and massages oils and cocoa butter into her skin. Yoonji dresses her in a silky nightgown and leaves her alone, closing the door with a simple "Good luck."

YN sneaks out of the bed and tries the door but to no one's surprise, it's locked. Sighing, YN crawls back into bed, grabbing one of the down pillows and cuddling it close to her. She wonders how her parents are doing. Are they okay? Were they able to clean the kitchen? Have they buried the family dog yet?

But most importantly, did Taehyung keep his word? Are they still alive?

YN's grip on the pillow tightens. She feels no peace, no ability to fall asleep. All she can do is stare at the ceiling, the hours passing by in the blink of an eye and no time at all.

Before she's ready, the lock on YN's door clicks and swings open, and a procession of women in the same simple uniform Yoonji wears file in.

"Good morning, Madam," one of the ladies says, "Master Taehyung has sent us to prepare you for your wedding."

YN just blinks at them, sighing. When it's clear that YN isn't going to move on her own, one of the other ladies moves to her bedside and pulls the cover off of her frame. Someone brings a silken robe and glides it over her skin, tying it tightly around her waist.

YN winces as the silk digs into her sore spot but no one notices. They all crowd around her, bringing her into the massive closet and sitting her down in from of a giant vanity. They buzz around her like worker bees, discussing lipstick colors and hairstyles with fervor. YN doesn't pay them any attention, doing to her mental happy place.

In her head, she's back at university, studying for her degree and blissfully unaware of just how cruel the world can be.

The women move her face side to side as they pluck and wax and moisturize before applying what feels like a pound of makeup to her face. A few of them work on a manicure and pedicure while one picks out some lacy lingerie.

"Oh, Master Taehyung picked a beautiful one," the main lady says.

"You're so lucky, Madam," a different one says, "Master Taehyung is so handsome. Money, power, and good looks? What more could a girl want?"

She is dusting eyeshadow over YN's eyelids with a featherlight touch. It would be relaxing if YN wasn't about to marry a psychopath.

"Would you like to take my place then?" YN says before she can stop herself.

Bitterness overflows as they talk about YN's upcoming marriage as if she's a princess who's fallen in love with a charming prince.

The women fall quiet and an awkward silence blankets the room. YN opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, locking eyes with a very unamused Taehyung. He's hovering in the doorframe with a deadly look on his face. He stalks deeper into the room and places a hand on YN's shoulder, his expression brightening up as he looks at his workers.

"I love YN's sense of humor," he says, chuckling, "Isn't she so funny?"

Everyone joins in with superficial laughter but YN is petrified with Taehyung's hand on her. He doesn't squeeze or dig his nails into her as she expects but she doesn't trust him whatsoever.

"Would you mind leaving me alone with my fiancee for a few moments?" Taehyung says, "I want to say a few words to her before the wedding."

Despite the pleading look in her eyes, all of the women leave the two of them alone, even going so far as to shut the closet door behind them.

Taehyung lifts YN's face to look at her, reveling in the look of terror in her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, YN," he says, "When you stupidly burst into your parents' kitchen like a fool, I just knew that I wanted you. You're going to be so fun to destroy."

His touch is deceptively gentle.

"Why are you doing this?" YN asks, unable to look away from his deep gaze.

"Because I can," he says, "Because you don't want this. Any of the women affiliated with this gang would bend over backward for the position you're about to be forced into and yet here you are, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. What's life without a challenge?"

"I hate you," YN snaps, "I'll always hate you."

"That's perfectly fine by me, darling," Taehyung says, "Hate me as much as you want. Love doesn't exist here. As long as you do as I say, I don't care what you feel. As long as you know that you're mine, you can let your little heart turn black with hate."

He sinks his teeth into the lobe of her ear, causing YN to wince. He pulls away, a cocky look on his face.

"Piss me off and you know what happens. But don't worry, I'll never hurt you somewhere where other people will see."

He pushes away from the vanity and begins to walk back out of the closet.

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful in the dress I picked out, YN. I'll see you at the alter."

Taehyung is gone as quickly as he came and the annoying workers are back again, this time notably less chatty than before. They finish up her makeup and hair, smoothing away the small mistakes Taehyung had implemented and don't give her a stitch of privacy as they tie and buckle her into the most uncomfortable lingerie she's ever seen. The dress they pull out of a garment bag is not her taste whatsoever but she doesn't say anything. In a way, she's kind of glad. This wedding has nothing to do with her. All of her childhood fantasies seem a million miles away from this disaster.

The dress doesn't even fit. It's at least a size and a half too small but that doesn't stop them from shoving her into it, pulling on the laces until she can barely breathe. She can't even bend over to pull her shoes on.

Jungkook appears when they are all finished, wordless and stoic. He leads her out of the room and through what feels like a million hallways, YN's feet hurting in the incredibly tall heels she was put into. YN tries her best to memorize the map for future use (or maybe escape) but she gets so confused that she gives up. Something tells her that it's exactly what Jungkook was going for.

Surprisingly, they don't end up in some gigantic room in this mansion. Jungkook takes her to a garage, assisting her into the backseat and sitting beside her.

"Where are we going?" YN asks.

Jungkook doesn't answer.

For a moment, YN considers jumping out of the car. She knows she wouldn't even make it to the door before Jungkook snatches her. YN's eyes flick up to the front seat and she notices that the man driving is the same one as from before. She doesn't know his name but she doesn't have anything else to look at so she finds herself studying him through the rearview mirror. Unlike Jungkook who looks tough and stoic with his filled out form and dozens of tattoos, the driver looks soft - nearly pretty.

YN wonders how he ended up here. Is he just another wolf in disguise? Or maybe he's here in a similar situation to her, working off debt with labor.

As if he feels her eyes on him, the driver lifts his gaze and smiles at her ever so slightly, the very first inkling of kindness anyone has given her since this nightmare started. YN returns it, a small smile gracing her face.

The car pulls over in front of a small church, something much more subdued than she would have expected given the ridiculous place Taehyung and his family live in.

Jungkook helps her out of the car with an iron grip, preventing her from bolting. There's a small waiting room inside and a single woman in uniform is waiting for her with a beautiful bouquet that she shoves into her hands.

"Don't fuck up," Jungkook says again.

The church doors open.

Chapter Six

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Tag List

@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00 @naajix

[peachyteabuck]

something i can eat [peggy carter x reader]

summary: She backs you against a wall easily, towering over you. Her eyes scan your form, pausing when she gets to your center and chest.  

“When Stark said he’d get me something to play with, I admit I didn’t expect it to be this cute…”

pairing: dark!peggy carter x reader

words: 1,668

trigger warnings: dubcon, corruption kink, innocent reader, face slapping, vaginal fingering

notes: this is actually a writing warm up that went awry. it’s quite different from what i usually write so uh. please let me know what you think!

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The ice had knocked something loose. It had done the same to Steve – changing him in a way no one expected and everyone tried to hide.

Each request to interview either of them – either half of the World War Two star-crossed lovers who were bound by ice so thick many were sure no one or thing would be able to get them out - was turned down in the politest way Stark Industries’ PR team knew how.

Oh, they’re on a top-secret mission. Oh, they’re tired from a top-secret mission. Oh, they’re doing something confidential.

When Peggy was found, it had become glaringly obvious she would need what they had gotten Steve the second he could stand – a distraction.

They had found you the easy way. You were one of the poor kids Stark had hand-picked from the thick stack of intern applications that didn’t make the cut for the real job.

He framed the alternative job offer as being an “assistant.” Peggy just needed someone to help her, he said in an email. Not much work, with free, required room and board.

To you, a broke recent college graduate with student loans and nowhere to turn, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

You showed up to the first day in thick leggings, thicker sweater, and a simply adorable button-up underneath. Stark nearly cooed when he saw you – patting himself on the back for picking the perfect person for his friends…unique needs.

Stark was grinning when you stepped through the door and, though seemingly overly enthusiastic, you chalked it up to him wanting to meet you.

You followed him diligently throughout Stark Tower as he explained to you your duties – to make Peggy remained fed and ate and kept her apartment clean and dressed herself.

You blushed at the last one, but continue to walk at a brisk pace as you enter an elevator. There, Tony hands you a badge and a tacky Stark Tower lanyard and tells you which employee entrances you’ll be able to use with your unusually high level of access (this didn’t make sense given you were an assistant, and not even a glorified one. But you chose not to question it).

Stark enters the apartment that you’re told is Peggy’s without so much as a knock – announcing his (and your) presence with a loud call into the minimalist living space.

A woman you sort-of recognize from the news (which talked about her nonstop when they found her in the place she had used to try and rescues Steve) appears from nowhere – dressed in a black and dark grey women’s suit from the 1940s, complete with low heels and deep red lipstick.

You’re starstruck, speechless – a ringing in your ears so loud you don’t hear that Stark has left until he’s gone.

And with the door shut loudly behind him, you and Peggy were alone.

“Well,” Peggy says, smile off-putting but beautiful. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

Your chest felt like your ribs were tightening around your lungs, your breath squeezed from your body as she watched you. “I, uh,” you swallowed, trying to find whatever words you would pull from your dry mouth.

She backs you against a wall easily, towering over you. Her eyes scan your form, pausing when she gets to your center and chest.  

“When Stark said he’d get me something to play with, I admit I didn’t expect it to be this cute…”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes wide in confusion. “Miss Carter, I-I have no idea what you’re-“

She cuts you off, shoving three fingers into your mouth. “Quiet,” she hisses through her teeth.  “You will not speak unless I ask you something and when I do, you. Will. Answer. You understand?”

You gulp around her fingers. “Y-yes.”

She grins and moves to shed you of your sweater, huffing when she finds a fully buttoned shirt underneath.

“You’re such a tease,” she tuts before ripping the shirt. Buttons fly everywhere, but before you can process or complain or ask her what she’s doing your bra is gone, too.

Her tongue circles on of your pert nipples, making you fight back a small moan.

Her lipstick remains perfect when she pulls away with a soft pop!, moving to tear at your leggings and picking your flats off with the point of her heel.

It’s then that you find yourself able to push at her shoulders – stuttering through a menial protest.

“Wait!” you cry out. Peggy stops, but only for a moment. “W-wait! What are you doing?”

Peggy just smiles.

“C’mon little dove,” she coos down at you. “Don’t you want to feel good?”

You gulp, feeling the cold of the table press into your hot skin. “I-uh…”

“Don’t worry, baby girl,” she says. Her voice is low, as if not to scare off a wild deer. “I’d never hurt you, I’d never hurt anything so precious.”

You look between her and the door once more, admittedly a little scared.

But, what’s the worst that can happen?

You give her a little small nod, avoiding her heated gaze.

“Nu-uh,” Peggy tuts, using a single, perfectly manicured finger under your chin to raise your eyes to hers. “You have to tell me what you want. Don’t leave me guessing, little dove.”

Your eyes widen in fear and unknowing – struggling to find what you want to say.

It’s then that Peggy laughs lightly, fake pouting as she watches every movement of every muscle in your face.

“Oh, darling,” her lips curl sinisterly, but you can’t help but press your thighs together as a desperate heat grows there. “You don’t know what you want, do you?”

You shake your head silently. When Peggy narrows her eyes, you quickly move to correct your grave mistake. “N-no, I, uh…I don’t know…what I, uh. Want.”

Despite your mediocre presentation, Peggy doesn’t chastise you.

“You’re a fast learner,” she murmurs. “I like that.”

A moment passes where she just stares at you, and suddenly you feel quite insecure.

That, however, does not last for long.

“Open your mouth,” she tells you.

You do.

Easily, she slides two fingers past your lips and massages them over your tongue.

“Good girl,” she murmurs. “From now on you belong to me, do you understand?”

You nod.

Peggy moves her hand from your mouth to cradling your face, squeezing your cheeks before she pulls it back and slaps you.

You whimper in pain, making Peggy laughs.

“Aw, little dove,” she coos as you hold your hurt cheek, tears threatening to spill. “Did you like that?”

“N-no,” you mumble. “I, I didn’t l-like it.”

Peggy grabs your cheek forcefully, making your watery eyes meet her fiery ones. “Then don’t disobey me. Do you understand?”

You sniffle before you respond. “Y-yes.”

Peggy then rubs your pussy through your panties, smiling as you hold back whimpers.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” she murmurs.

“I-“ you struggle to respond but fear punishment. “Y-yes.”

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Peggy tells you as she pushes your cotton underwear to the side.

You’re practically dripping as she pushes two fingers into you, the same two that remained soaked in your spit. Your hands scramble for purchase and land on Peggy’s shoulders.

She’s an expert at this, much better than the boys in college. Actually, everything about her is better than the boys in college – you didn’t even know girls did those kinds of things together.

It doesn’t take long for pleasure to light itself inside of you, for your spine to melt and your head to feel as if it was floating.

There’s something else, though, something both familiar and unknown to you.

“W-what-“ you moan. “I- Why does it f-feel like I’m g-going to-“

Peggy just smiles easily, eyes trained on your face. “That’s called an orgasm, little dove,” she tells you. “It’s okay, just let yourself feel good.”

You gulp, still trying to move out of her grasp.

Peggy just tuts at you, her other hand moving to run a comforting thumb over your jaw. “You can’t lie, I can see it I your pretty, dazed eyes. C’mon baby girl, don’t you want to come for me? You do, darling, don’t you?”

You nod, the coil in your stomach tightening with each passing second. “I, I-“

“Shh,” Peggy says, kissing at the corner of your trembling mouth. “Just let go, just let go for me…”

You cum with a loud moan, clinging to her as tears threatened to spill from your eyes and your skin felt like it was being torn at your fingertips and stomach.

Peggy holds you up as you come down from your high, allowing you to slump against her when you become boneless and blissed out.

She carries you to her bedroom, laying you down before she sheds her own clothes and joins you under the covers.

“So,” Peggy begins, holding you close to her despite the expansive, unclaimed real estate left on her large bed. “Are you going to be my filthy little girl from now on?”

It’s the next day when you’re sitting at the dining room table, going over the meals you planned to make during the week for Peggy and yourself.

The woman in question sits herself in the chair next to you, looming over your shoulder as you wrote into your notebook.

You thought she was going to say something, but then you feel her hand on your thigh.

For a moment you tense, but quickly realize what Peggy’s doing. With some hesitation you then use your own hand to push it closer to your center.  

Peggy just massages the inside of your thigh, pressing into the bruises she left last night.

“You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” She says, leaving small bites along your exposed neck. “Can’t wait to teach you fuck you, humiliate you a little.”

You gulp but lean into her body nonetheless and open your legs further. There’s nothing you’d like more.

[stayextrafrosty]

When the Timing is Right

Summary: Inspired by this ficlet written by @skinsharpenedteeth. AKA: rounds one and two. Michael shows up at Alex’s house in the middle of the night, soaking wet and worried. Things happen. Lust takes control.

Warnings: Smut with very little plot. But also feelings.

Title from the song Old Wounds by PVRIS

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

What was Alex supposed to do? Michael had come to him in the middle of the night, soaking wet and panicked. Was he not supposed to pull him inside? It was too late at this point.

Alex pulled him to the bathroom as much as he could with one leg and a crutch. He grabbed a towel out of the closet, handing it to Michael. He hadn’t explained why he was so freaked out but he should probably wait until he calmed down. He hadn’t taken his eyes off him since he walked through the door.

True to his words over a year ago.

When he took the towel, Michael grabbed his wrist as well, tugging him closer. His gaze looked over him, up on down his body and over his face. Alex blushed under the intense attention.

“You’re ok?” The first words out of his mouth and Alex had to raise an eyebrow.

“Me? You’re the one who showed up at my front door,” he said gently. Michael lifted a hand to his face, fingers just brushing over his jaw and cheek before he realized what he was doing, dropping his hand immediately.

Wait. Put it back.

“Sorry, Maria called me. Said she had a vision. You were…” His voice trailed off. Alex’s heart fluttered. He had come out in the torrential rain they got a few times a year just because he was worried?

“Well I’m fine. I promise.” Michael looked away from him for the first time since he showed up. He let the towel fall open and used it to dry his hair. Alex wanted to offer to do it for him but would that be too much? “If you give me your shirt and jeans I can dry them for you. Don’t need you getting sick.” Michael smiled at him. He expected some kind of sexual joke but...

“I don’t exactly get sick, Private. Won’t get hypothermia either. But thanks for the offer.” Alex’s mouth opened again but he didn’t know how to respond. The nickname made him want to smile even though it was technically inaccurate. The silence lingered, neither knowing what to say. Michael moved first, pushing off from the counter he had been leaning on.

This movement forced them within a couple inches of each other. While they were pretty much the same height, Alex felt small. He didn’t hate the feeling. At least not when he was with Michael.

“I should go. I probably woke you up and Forrest wouldn’t like you inviting other men into your house.” He squeezed past Alex, arm brushing against his. He stared at the place he had just been standing, considering his next words.

“We broke up.” He heard his footsteps stop. Alex turned and leaned against the edge of the door, watching him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, without turning to face him.

“It was mutual. We were better as friends.” This was the truth. Forrest was great but they just didn’t have the spark.

Alex walked slowly toward Michael, like he would scare him away with sudden movements. He touched his arm gently, startling him. Though he never moved away.

“Come on. Let me dry your clothes. It’s the least I could do after you drove over here.” Lightning flashed outside, followed by a crack of thunder. Michael was suddenly facing him, a light blush on his face. Alex had to stop himself from snickering. Not that it lasted long before he had to swallow it to keep himself under control.

Michael watched him the entire time he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing tan skin and a trail of hair that led down his stomach, disappearing into his jeans. It was probably a couple seconds at most but suddenly he was parched. Like he had been stranded in the desert for days.

“Gunna watch me the whole time, Manes?” Alex jumped and turned his head away. The heat rushing to his face at being called out. He heard him chuckle. The clinking of his belt had goosebumps rising on his skin.

Michael kicked off his shoes and pulled his pants off, haphazardly folding them along with his shirt. He stuck his belt inside one of his shoes so he wouldn’t forget it later. Alex kept his eyes cast down as he took his clothes, moving to the laundry room. He tossed the damp things in the dryer alone, setting the temperature to low on the off chance they would shrink.

When he made it back to Michael, he had completely forgotten he would be mostly naked. Alex could feel himself harden at the sight of him just standing in his house in nothing but underwear.

“Here, I’ll loan you some sweats for now,” he said, hurrying as much as he could past him toward his room. He did the best he could to focus on pulling his navy Airforce sweats from the drawer. He ignored the fact that Michael was behind him. Far enough to be considered respectable but it wasn’t nearly… close enough. Wait. No. Far enough.

“Alex.” His name passing his lips was enough to send shivers down his spine. He was far closer than he thought. The heat that radiated from Michael was reaching his back. “What is it?” His breath tickled the back of his neck. The low rumble from the back of his throat signaled that Alex wasn’t the only one feeling… warm.

He shut the drawer without pulling out clothes. He turned to face him, letting his gaze wander over his shoulders and chest and down to the obvious bulge. He heard Michael’s breath hitch and Alex met his eyes again.

“Forrest and I broke up… because he knew I wanted someone else.” A smiled twitched up at the corners of his mouth. Alex straightened his shoulders. “And if you’ll have me…”

Michael trapped him against the dresser. The smell of rain that he had been ignoring since he walked in, washed over him. The rain pounded outside just as hard as his heart in his chest.

“Alex, I would have to be dead to not want you,” he mumbled, inching his face closer. He sucked in a breath, his senses overwhelming him. He wanted to feel him again. It’s been so long.

Alex reached out, fingers brushing over Michael’s collarbone before resting his whole hand over his chest. Michael released a breath as though he was relieved. The tension melted from his body.

Their lips pressed together, earning a groan from both of them. Michael’s hands rested on his hips, fingers sneaking under the t-shirt he had pulled on before answering the door. Their lips slipped over each other. Michael nipped at his bottom lip and Alex tugged him closer, his one available hand tangling in his hair.

“Bed,” he breathed out. If he didn’t need to stand this would work so much better. Michael pulled back for a moment, grin settling on his face. He shook his head.

“Better idea. Do you trust me?” Alex nodded quickly. There was no one he trusted more. Michael kissed him again. His hands moved to run over his ass, where they only paused to squeeze once before moving to the back of his thighs. Alex felt the tingle of something and then he was lifted off the ground, almost effortlessly.

Michael set him down on his dresser, pushing his legs apart and standing between them. Alex looked down at him now. He allowed Michael to take his crutch from him, setting it gently to the side. He was now free to run both of his hands all over the cowboy. At least what he could reach.

He leaned in to kiss him again, tongue slipping into him mouth. Alex sighed happily. Michael had this spice about him. He used to think it was the alcohol but no, it was just him. As unique as the way he smelled.

His hands rubbed his thighs, squeezing occasionally, as though he was giving him a massage. He inched closer to the bulge in his sweats with every rub. Alex whimpered against his lips, making him smirk.

Michael stopped rubbing in favor of slipping his fingers into the waistband of his pants. He tugged them down a bit, needing Alex’s help to pull them all the way off. Alex released his shoulders to hold himself up while he worked them off.

He didn’t stop at just his pants. His underwear came with and was quickly tossed to the side. Alex flushed at suddenly being exposed. He tried to pull Michael in for another kiss but he had other ideas.

He leaned down, pushing his legs apart gently, and took the head of his cock into his mouth. He moaned at the hot wet feeling, needing to grip the edge of the dresser. Michael’s mouth worked down his shaft torturously slow.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed the taste of you,” he said, releasing him for a moment. A small groan slipped out and Alex tangled his fingers into those beautiful curls.

“Show me,” he said. Michael didn’t need to be told again. His mouth wrapped around him once more, though moving faster this time. Alex dug his fingers into his scalp and pulled, though he didn’t seem to mind. His tongue wrapped around the head of his cock.

“Holy fuck, Michael…” His hips rolled and hands pulled, forcing his cock to the back of his throat. He groaned around him, the vibrations making his hips roll again. He had to be in heaven. It was the only explanation.

He continued until Alex had to pull him off. Hauling him up and crushing their mouths together, eager to taste himself on Michael’s tongue. He shoved his hands up his t-shirt, forcing them to separate to toss it somewhere in the room.

Michael pulled him as close as possible but it wasn’t enough anymore. Alex felt the fuzzy tingle again as he wrapped his legs around his waist. Their mouths never separated as he moved them to Alex’s bed. He was dropped gently and Michael was on top of him again. He kissed his way over his jaw and nipped at his earlobe.

Michael pressed his hips against Alex’s. He moaned at the contact but with his underwear still in place, it wasn’t enough. Alex grabbed the waistband and shoved them down. He kicked them off before rubbing against him again.

His lips were on his neck and he could feel his mouth drop open as Alex grabbed both of their cocks, holding them together. He rubbed them slowly, reveling in the feeling Michael sucking bruises into his skin. He didn’t even care that they were in obviously visible spots.

“Michael,” he moaned as another bruise was sucked onto his collarbone. “I need more,” he whimpered.

“Anything you want baby. Anything.” Alex pulled him into another hot kiss before directing him to the lube in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. He pulled it out quickly, setting it next to them on the bed.

Michael kissed down his body, making Alex leak precum. He wrapped his mouth around his cock for a moment but moved on quickly. He gently pushed his legs apart and up, giving him better access.

“Do you want me here,” he asked, low and seductive. His fingers traced around his hole, making Alex tense up. The grin on his face said he knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

“Yes. God, please,” he breathed out.

“I’m not technically a God you know,” he teased back. Alex rolled his eyes but pressed against the fingers that taunted him.

Michael chuckled and kissed the backs of his thighs. He trailed his lips to his ass, swiping his tongue over his entrance and pressing a finger inside him slowly. Alex groaned and only wished he had known to get himself ready earlier. He didn’t want to wait but it seemed Michael was determined to take his time.

His finger moved slowly in and out of him, serving to only work him up rather than prepare him. His tongue teased around the outside, urging him to relax. Little moans slipped out of his mouth, urging Michael to give him more.

His second finger pushed in with the second, making Alex’s back arch off the bed slightly.  It burned but damn if he didn’t want more of it. He tried to rock against his fingers but Michael kept his movements steady and annoyingly slow.

“Please, Michael. Faster,” he begged. Evidently that’s all he was waiting for. He heard him curse before grabbing the lube and flicking the cap open. He pulled his fingers out only to coat them before pushing the two back in. They slipped in easily and Alex groaned. The lube was cool and the contrast of Michael’s hot skin and fingers made his cock twitch, aching for release.

“I fucking love the way you respond to every little thing. You’re so fucking beautiful. Perfect,” he mumbled as he pressed kisses to his legs and hips. His fingers moved faster inside him now, pressing against his walls. Alex shook as a third finger teased his hole. He cursed under his breath as it pushed in with the other two, stretching him open.

Michael pressed against his prostate, moans tumbling out of his mouth. He wanted to say something. Anything. But he could hardly form a coherent thought as he fucked him with his fingers. He could feel the cliff rushing closer and he wanted nothing more than to fall over it.

He was close. So fucking close and…

Michael was kissing him again. His fingers scissored a few times before being pulled out. Alex groaned, reaching for his hand.

“So good for me. You ready baby?” Alex met his eyes before looking down at where Michael stroked himself, coating his cock in lube.

“Fuck yes. I need you in me.”

Michael smiled and kissed him again. He pressed the head against him, making them both moan. He pushed in slowly, rocking his hips, pushing farther with every forward motion. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, scratching at his back. He groaned and his hips jerked forward, pushing him in farther.

Alex whimpered but not in pain. He tried to pull him in by wrapping his legs around his waist.

“I’m ok. Come on and fuck me like you want to,” he encouraged not so gently. Alex nipped at the skin on his jaw. Michael groaned, twisting his fingers into the sheets.

“You want to feel me tomorrow? Fine. You asked for it.”

He shoved himself the rest of the way in and Alex wanted to praise whatever god there was. The burn of the stretching was fully welcomed and he pressed against Michael as much as he could. He stayed still for a second, feeling Alex wrapped around him.

“Fuck, Alex. So fucking perfect.”

With that he pulled back and thrust forward roughly. They both groaned and he repeated the motion, getting faster and harder with each thrust. Alex’s hands on his back dug into the muscles, sweat making them slide over the skin easily.

The cliff was rushing toward him again and there was no stopping it this time. Michael fucked into him, angling his hips to hit his prostate. Their foreheads pressed together as they panted, breathing in the other with every moan.

“I’m gunna come. Don’t stop,” he ordered. Michael just gave him a breathy laugh and moved faster. He reached down, wrapping his hand around his cock, jerking him off.

“Come on baby,” he encouraged. Their moans got louder and the rhythm was off and he could feel Michael throbbing inside him.

Alex’s back arched as he yanked Michael against him. Cum covered them, smeared over their stomachs and Michael’s hand. His hips stuttered and he could feel Michael reaching his own orgasm, not bothering to pull out.

He collapsed on top of Alex, not caring about the mess he had made between them. They panted as Michael pressed light kisses to his neck. Alex traced absentminded designs over his back.

Eventually Michael rolled off and to the side, grabbing a few tissues to clean them both off. He tossed the tissues into the nearby wastebasket and turned toward him again. Alex chuckled as he was pulled against him, back to his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. Michael nuzzled his shoulder.

“What is it,” he asked?

“I love you.” Alex’s heart skipped a beat and a smiled broke out on his face. He turned in his arms, bringing his hands up to hold Michael’s face.

“Say it again?” A sweet smile made his eyes light up.

“I love you, Alex.”

“I love you too, Michael.” He ran his hand back through his hair, pulling him in for a gentle and lazy kiss. They just laid like that for a while, kissing and touching. They traced old paths their hands had taken so many times before.

At some point, Alex felt Michael getting hard again. He couldn’t help but laugh. How had he never noticed he was an alien before? His refractory period was almost nonexistent.

“Already?” he teased. Michael nipped at him.

“Not my fault you’re so sexy. Sue me for wanting as much of you as I can get.” His own cock twitched half-heartedly, not quite ready for round two. But if he needed this, then Alex was happy to provide.

He pushed Michael until he was on his back. Alex maneuvered so he sat on top of his thighs. Michael watched with interest, allowing him to lead him wherever. Alex finally took the time to check him out properly.

He let his fingers scratch his chest through the smattering of hair. He could have drooled at the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under his touch. Alex licked his lips and Michael’s eyes focused on the movement. He grinned and leaned down, pressing kisses to the places his fingers just touched.

Michael sighed in content, lifting his hands to run through Alex’s hair. He could feel his cock fully hard between them. Michael never rushed him, just enjoying the attention he was giving. Alex moved down slowly, kissing everywhere that he knew was sensitive. Small moans and sighs encouraged him and stoked the flames of his own desire.

He nipped at the junction of his hip and leg, loving the groan it earned him. He looked up at Michael as he nudged his cock, running his lips over it lightly. He cursed and his fingers tightened in his hair.

Alex smiled and refocused his attention on the beautiful cock. He kissed up and down the shaft, letting his tongue touch every other kiss. Michael’s breathing was ragged as he tried to control himself. His fingers in Alex’s hair trembled and occasionally squeezed, but never too hard.

He finally took his head into his mouth, licking up the precum that had formed. Michael moaned loudly, keeping his hips as still as possible. Alex moved up and down slowly but it didn’t last long before Michael had sat up and pulled him back to kiss him.

“Did you not like it,” he questioned, worried.

“I did like it. But if I don’t get back inside you I might lose my mind. I promised you would feel me tomorrow, didn’t I?” The smirk on his face had his own cock springing to life again. Michaels hands ran down his back and stopped on his ass. He squeezed and pulled the cheeks apart, letting a flinger run over the hole again.

Alex shuddered and leaned down to press kisses to his neck. If Michael was going to mark him up, then he would do the same. He bit and sucked at the pulse point, getting more curses and moans. Michael tugged his hips forward, lining himself up again.

He grabbed the bottle of lube, adding a little more just in case. He probably didn’t need it, considering cum still leaked out of his ass from the first time. He angled his hips and pulled him down, slipping back inside him with ease.

Alex rocked his hips, picking up a rhythm with guidance from Michael’s hands on him. Alex wrapped his arms around his shoulders, hugging him and burying his face in his neck. He moaned against his skin, trying to pick up the pace. It didn’t exactly work in this position.

“Someone’s needy already,” Michael teased. Alex didn’t even bother to argue. He pulled back to look him in the eyes, keeping the pace of his hips.

“Of course I am. You do that to me. No one has ever fucked me quite like you,” he said. Michael groaned in response.

“Damnit Alex,” he mumbled before jerking his hips up to meet his thrusts. Alex moaned in response, letting his head roll back in bliss. Suddenly, Michael was pulling out. Alex was going to question but he spoke first. “Hands and knees,” he ordered.

Alex moved as fast as he could, positioning himself with his ass up in the air in front of Michael who groaned at the sight. His hands ran over his back and ass before pushing back into him. They both moaned. This had always been a favorite position for them.

Alex could feel him pressing against the spot and his fingers gripped the sheets. He could feel Michael leaning over him so that he was pressed against his back. His hips started grinding forward, hitting deeper and harder than before.

“Oh fuck,” Alex breathed. Michael chuckled and pressed kisses to the top of his spine. One of his hands reached around, grabbing his cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts. His head fell forward to rest against his arms.

“You have no idea how amazing you feel,” Michael said in between moans.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” Alex teased back, breathless. He heard him chuckle.

“Oh? Well then let me make sure I don’t disappoint,” he said, an evil tone in his voice. If Alex could see him, he was sure there would be a smirk on his face.

He gave one last kiss to the back of his neck before rising up, releasing his cock and running his hands over his back before resting on his hips. His fingers dug into the soft muscle and he was yanked back against him, cock hitting every nerve.

His mouth fell open, incoherent sounds fumbling out. Michael was merciless, as though he was trying to imprint the shape of him in his body. Not that he minded at all. He heard his lover’s moans, the sounds only fueling his need.

His orgasm was building fast and his legs were shaking. The repeated assault on the spot had him spreading his legs, looking for any way to let him go deeper. His thrusts, hard and fast, had him leaking all over the sheets that he would need to wash before sleeping in them.

The muscles in his back tensed and fingers twisted into the fabric. He moaned with every jerk of his hips. The sweat dripped down his back.

“So… Close…” he managed to get out between the moans.

“Cum again for me, baby.” Alex saw stars when he changed the angle of his hips again.

The world faded away. The only thing he felt was Michael. His hands on his hips and back. His dick buried deep inside him.

He released with a strangled moan, white painting the dark sheets. His whole body shook as Michael fucked him through it, his own thrusts becoming erratic. Then he was coming too, filling him again.

Alex would absolutely feel this tomorrow.

Michael pressed more kisses to his back as he pulled out slowly. He grabbed the box of tissues again, cleaning up before Alex even had the energy to move from his position. He lifted his head to look at Michael, who just smiled at him. Actually, it was more like he was beaming.

Alex’s heart fluttered seeing that kind of smile and knowing it was because of him. He crawled toward him, pushing him back so he would lay and the pillow. He then proceeded to curl up against his sit, using his arm and shoulder as a pillow. Michael chuckled.

“I don’t know how I got this lucky. Even after being so stupid.” Alex nuzzled against him.

“We can talk about it tomorrow. I need to rest.” He felt Michael press a kiss to his head before wrapping his arms around him.

“OK, I’ll give you a break before the next one,” he teased. Alex just shook his head, laughing. They both ended up dozing off. At least until Alex felt the sweet touches, waking him again.