#and usually painfully awkward to watch

[rikiiluvr]

— 𝙈𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙔

☆ nishimura riki x afab!reader

☆ wc: 2.2k

☆ WARNINGS: SMUT (MDNI), unprotected sex (pls don't), mentions of drinking, riding, making out, teasing.

THE last few months have been a pain in the ass. why? because your frustratingly hot roommate won't get the hint that you like him or that you’re even interested in him. you can’t tell if he’s pretending or if he’s genuinely as oblivious as he seems to be. you lie on your back on the floor of your bedroom while staring up at the ceiling and thinking of ways to try and make him notice you more. 

you’ve tried flirting with him, which painfully backfired as he saw it as friendly banter and flirted back with you but quickly dismissing you as a friend when someone noticed the two of you. you tried dressing up nicer, or cooking for the two of you but it always ended with him teasing you about how you looked a little better than a homeless person or not eating your food saying it might give him food poisoning. you have to admit though, his words did hurt. just when you were on the brink of giving up, an idea flared in your mind.

you’d just have to try the oldest trick in the book, wearing something tight, seductive, and revealing. It had to work right? you chewed on your bottom lip, still contemplating your choices but none the less decided on continuing with it anyway. you got off your bed and trudged to your closet, you rummaged through all kinds of clothes before settling on a small, lace night dress you’d bought on a whim but never once worn. you slipped it on and admired yourself in the mirror. it was pink silk, laced at the edges and around the breasts and hugged your curves tightly. “this better work” you mumbled but just as you were about to turn around your door swung open, revealing riki with a phone in his hand “I’m getting takeout what do yo-” he stopped, his eyes raked your figure before widening his eyes and slamming the door shut in your face. 

you were embarrassed. how could that happen? you cursed yourself for forgetting to lock the door. not only did he catch you wearing something ridiculously showy, but he also caught you in an awkward posture, looking like a deer caught in headlights. you could only imagine why he had the urgency to shut the door so quickly. You whined and plopped onto your bed, burying your head in your pillow and letting out a muffled scream. 

there was no way you could face him after what just happened. you groaned, the second-hand embarrassment kicked in once again and the more you thought about what just happened, the more you felt sleepy and as exhaustion took over you, you drifted off to sleep

– 

the next morning, when you woke up, got ready for class, and walked out, you half expected riki to be there, but it seemed like he’d left already, which was odd considering that he was never the first one to wake up. the entire day passed by as usual. you didn’t see Riki once, and you didn't know if it was a good or bad thing, but you were just glad to be able to forget about yesterday’s, er, events even if it was just for a little while. 

you sighed upon arriving at your shared apartment, closing the door and leaning your forehead against it trying to collect yourself. today was rough, back-to-back classes, your part-time job at the cafe was also tiring and all you wanted to do on a friday night was unwind by binge-eating your favorite ice cream and watching all the shows you’d meant to catch up on but of course, nothing went your way because, around an hour after you’d made those relaxing plans, you received a call from one of riki’s friends, jay, pleading you to come to get riki, saying he was drunk out of his mind.

here you were. In front of a loud, dingy bar downtown with an extremely heavy riki leaning onto your side as if his life depended on it. sighing for the third time that night “can you please fucking straighten up?” you groaned as you pushed him onto a wooden bench, pulling out your phone to book a cab knowing there was no way you could walk back to your (shared) apartment with him. 

“do you know how hard it is to live with you and pretend i don’t think about that night all the time?” riki spoke up, voice slurred and hoarse. you visibly stiffened up, internally somewhat cheering that your idea did seem to have some effect but it was still embarrassing, and this was not how you expected your conversation about that night to go. you turned your head towards him and blinked, not knowing how to respond and riki only looked back at you, tilting his head and looking so innocent as if he hadn’t just said something that scrambled your thoughts. 

“you don’t know what you're saying. can you just wait until we get home, don’t open your mouth till then,” you commanded just in time as the cab pulled up, you hauled him in with all your might, but it took a lot more effort to get him out and into your apartment. It felt like you were dealing with a human-sized doll. 

riki groaned as you dropped him onto the couch, you panted heavily trying to catch your breath. this is not how you wanted to end your friday. tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear, you grabbed riki a glass of water and held it out to him “here. sober up” but riki didn’t take the glass from you, instead he stared at you and parted his plump lips. you gulped at the sight of them, your lips tingling to feel them on your own. you kneeled on the ground before him and hesitantly, you brought your hand up to feed him the water and the other hand came up to hold his chin and watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing with each sip only making you gulp and clench your thighs involuntarily which didn’t go unnoticed by riki who slowly pushed your hand away and smirked, his lips were wet and glossy.

you set the glass down and stared at him when one of riki’s hands cupped your face and instantly joined your lips with his. you responded almost immediately, wrapping your hands around his neck and allowing him to snake his hands around your waist and pull you onto his lap while kissing you all the while and that was when you felt his dick hardening underneath you making you gasp into his mouth, he used it as an opportunity and slipped his tongue into your mouth, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

the kiss was anything but sweet, it was messy. Drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as riki angled his head to reach deeper into your mouth. you shouldn’t be doing this. he was drunk and probably didn’t know what he was doing but the feeling was too good and you let your sex-hazed mind take over and push down your rational thoughts. 

the two of you pulled away slightly to catch your breaths “fuck baby…” he muttered and slipped one of his hands under your shirt, the cold touch making you gasp. he trailed them up slowly, the sensation making you squirm making riki chuckle, “i haven’t even gotten to the actual part and you’re already squirming? cute.” heat rushed to your face at his words and it only made you excited for what was to come.

he slowly trailed his hand further up and palmed your breast through your bra before clicking his tongue in irritation and unhooking your bra in one go “annoying shit” he mumbled and pulled it out, making you giggle at his impatience, his hands pulled your shirt off, exposing your breasts to the cool air which made your nipples instantly harden. riki  latched onto one of your breasts, making your hands fly up to his head and intertwine your fingers in his hair as he slid his tongue across your bud before sucking, teasing, and grazing it with his teeth while fondling the other one, pinching and twisting it between his fingers, meanwhile, the stimulation made you feel hazy. you began grinding down on him desperate for some friction, making him groan. 

he licked your nipple before peppering kisses from your chest to your neck and trailed up until he reached your jaw, leaving hot open open-mouthed kisses there and taking in your scent before pulling away. he tugged on you’re pants “take it off” he mumbled, making you smile as you got off to take your pant and panties off while he took off his own clothes and the moment his cock was released from its confines it sprang up and slapped against his abdomen, the tip already leaking pre cum. oh, it was big alright. you’d thought about riki’s cock on more than one occasion but the real deal beat every single one you imagined.

you gulped at the sight and watched riki spear the pre cum around his tip and lean his head back groaning. noticing that you were standing, he pulled you onto him “ride me.” two words had you working immediately as you put your hands on his shoulders for support and lined up against his cock, and slowly slid down, the both of you letting out loud moans at the feeling. your grip on his shoulders tightened as you sank down completely, feeling full to the brim. 

You took a deep breath, still adjusting to his size but riki, impatient as ever wasn’t having it “move…fuck” he breathed out. You slowly moved up and down his cock, and every time you sank, a small bulge appeared on your stomach which only drove riki crazy making him groan, however, he felt your pace was too slow and suddenly bucked his hips up making you yelp and grip his shoulders as he reached a deep spot as if he wasn’t already deep enough and that made him laugh. You swatted at his arm 

“fuck baby… You’re way too slow” he teased and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he slowly gripped your hips and laid you onto the couch “let me just take over okay?” he whispered sweetly before pulling out and admiring the sight before him, his tip rubbed against your folds, only making you ache for more, he teased you a little longer, enjoying your little whines and pleas before giving in and thrusting into you in one go, groaning at the feeling as he felt your cunt suck him in . the feeling making you arch your back and grip onto the handrest behind you moaned loudly, suddenly feeling so full, the stretch was painful yet you craved for more. 

riki only sped up from that moment, and now and then between each thrust, you could feel his tip kissing your cervix. riki leaned down to kiss you sloppily when his hips suddenly jerked forward and hitting a certain spot that tipped you off the edge that you were holding onto, making you coat his cock in your sweet release. 

riki’s eyes slightly widened in amusement while you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, “don’t hide baby” he whispered, nipping on your ear lightly and pulling your hands away from your face, before speeding up, to reach his own high. The wetness of your release only added to his stimulation and soon enough thick ropes of his release coated the insides of your wall, so deep you could feel the sticky wet sensation of it making him let out a loud moan. “fuck.” he gasped as the two of you tried catching your breaths. he leaned down, his cock still inside as he laid his body on top of yours, sighing contently “are you still drunk?” you asked, it was a stupid question but you thought he might’ve sobered up a bit by now “a little yeah. but not enough to forget this. fuck i don’t think i can ever forget this” he spoke out, his voice hoarse. He held himself up by his forearms before trailing small kisses from between the valley between your breasts, down your stomach to your cunt where the two of you were connected. 

he pulled out and you both groaned at the same time but for two entirely different reasons. you for feeling so empty and him at the sight of the both of your releases dripping out and without a thought, riki leaned in and lapped up the releases that dripped out before using his tongue to push the rest in, not allowing a drop more to go to waste. you hissed at the sudden overstimulation “w-what are you doing” “can’t let any more go to waste baby” he placed a kiss to your clit before sitting up and laying back down on you and nuzzling his head into your neck, you wrapped your arms around him as your fingers tapped lightly on his back

“we should probably clean up” you whispered, “probably.” you smiled at his reponse and hit his back lightly “five more minutes…” “just five more.”

☆ xiao's notes: i kinda rushed this through

[pearlymel]

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw. dante x f!reader. cw: size kink, blow job, very light somno. established relationship. all the ways he likes to cum in, on, and around you told through little vignettes. | wc 1.8k, reading time: greater than 5 minutes.

around

2 AM.

Even the city is sleeping outside yet inside your bed, calamity looms.

Dante is too horny to sleep yet too sweet to wake you. His dick has been painfully straining against the front of his boxers for what feels like hours and the pretty little thing next to him breathes softly, chest rising and falling as delicately as ever.

He thought at first that watching you might eventually lull him to sleep, counting your breaths and the twitches of your eyelids, yet it has only made his condition worse. A wet patch rests just outside where the head of him pushes against his boxers.

You smack your lips together, brows furrowing slightly while you writhe across blankets and sheets into a shape that presses your ass against the cradle of hips, his painfully hard cock standing proudly between the cleft of your cotton panty covered cheeks.

This is a terrible situation. On one hand he can ignore the way he throbs, an ache spreading from his cock to his stomach and constricting his throat that is driven by pure need.

But on the other hand, he can let you rest and handle this himself. He can keep quiet and polite, right?

One of his hands sails beneath the waistband of his boxers, the elastic resting over his wrist while he palms himself and buries his face in your hair to silence the sharp hiss that leaves him.

Okay…maybe he can’t be quiet. But he’ll stay at least muffled this way, right? Peppering the top of your head with sweet kisses while his fingers make a fist around the heat of his shaft, an experimental drag of his calloused palm over his skin making him shudder against your back.

You writhe again, ass settled even closer against him now. Dante’s knuckles press into the curve of your cheeks, his face heating while he makes another shallow pass up and down his length.

“You don’t haveta stop…”

Your sleepy voice, raspy and breathy, captures his attention. Big eyes look up at him, a little smaller than usual from sleep, but he meets them nonetheless.

“No?” He asks though he already knows the answer, squeezing himself to diffuse the growing pressure inside of him at least momentarily.

You shake your head and turn it slightly with a lazy smile, eyes moving from his scruffy face to lower where he makes another pass over his cock. He moans into your hair. You arch your back even more, your head lolling against his shoulder and settling into the side of his neck, just below his ear. It’s an awkward vantage point but you can still see every move he makes, his big hand tenting the fabric with every pleasurable stroke.

“Does that feel good?” Your sweet voice croons, lips falling to his neck to kiss it softly. He hums his response, busy fucking his own fist over the thought and sound and feel of you.

His favorite person, his best friend, the subject of all of his dreams and the object of all of his desires. You.

A dream made real. How? It isn’t up to him to figure it out, only to happily ride alongside you until the truth comes out.

“Love watching you do that, Dante.”

The way you say his name draws a moan, throaty and bold. His head is thrown back and exposes his neck to you, a gift you take advantage of by nibbling at it. You toss a hand over your side, wrapping it over his boxers and around his tightly clenched fist.

“Fuck.”

You giggle at his use of the expletive, kissing his throat and inhaling the musky scent of him. Your own head swims a bit but you urge yourself to calm down, knowing morning comes very soon and you’re far more patient than your beloved when it comes to that sort of thing.

Sometimes.

Wordlessly, he groans and cums, painting his knuckles white with his pent up need and desire for his girl. You squeeze his fist and then pull it away, allowing him to free his hand from his boxers and offer it to you. His fingers brush against your mouth and you accept them, popping the digits inside one by one to clean them thoroughly.

“Sorry,” he mutters against the top of your head, pulling his thumb from between your smiling lips.

Before he can even shift to get more comfortable, your soft breathing resumes, head resting on his chest.

“Love you.”

He whispers the words against your hair, hoping you’ll hear him even in your sweet dreams.

—————

on

“Everyone was watching us, you know.”

You look up at him, brows raised and corners of your mouth upturning slightly despite the obscene position it seems to have found itself in.

Moans and whimpers leave your throat as you swallow him down to the base and back up again.

He’s discussing the little club you sometimes drag him to, where you were before you ended up on your knees in the entryway to your apartment with Dante’s pants just below his hips. You were practically dripping leaving the club, he made it worse on the way home by whispering filthy promises in your ear, and as soon as the door opened you couldn’t take it anymore.

You had to taste him. Now you’ve been at it for enough time that he’s sticky with drool from his pelvis to his balls, your gaze always kept upward to feast on the pleasure you’ve brought him.

“Saw your eyes light up when I said that,” he chuckles, exhaling sharply when you take another inch of him deep behind your soft palate. His belt buckle jingles and mixes with the sloppy sound of your spit and his precum.

“You like it when people watch us, huh dirty girl?”

Humming in agreement, your throat and tongue vibrate around his shaft, punching a throaty moan out of him. His head falls back against the wall, one hand pushing through your hair and settling on the back of your head.

Without warning, you pop the seal of your lips stretched around him and look up with a grin. Your hands easily find a home around him to replace your mouth, fingers wrapping around his girth but not meeting in the middle. You begin pumping his slick cock, cheek resting against his pelvis.

“I like it when people imagine us doing this.” You’re goad, biting your lower lip naughtily. “What we look like, how we taste.”

He knows exactly what you’re doing, fingers tightening on the back of your head. This is the wind up before you really commit to making the final leg spectacular.

“And I’m sure they do.” Dante goads right back, lower lip making its way between his teeth so he can quiet the hiss that tells you how nearly done for he is.

He knows they do. Curious onlookers watch his hands slide up your skirt while the two of you grind and twirl and dance in a world all your making, intrigued by two people so lost in each other they’re traversing the map of the other’s mouth with their tongues surrounded by a throng of sweaty, gyrating strangers.

Speaking of tongues, yours lolls out of your mouth, clearly lonely after a few seconds spent talking and not laving across his salty flesh. You drag the tip of it across the sticky head of his cock, eyes fluttering shut in response when you taste him.

His entire body tenses in response.

You open your eyes, staring up at him with lazy, slow blinks. Your hands move so fast they’re practically a blur and your tongue toys with his frenulum endlessly, his fingers now clutching the back of your head tightly. Not enough to hurt but firm enough to tell you he’s.

“Fuck, fuck, I…”

He cannot get the words out quick enough. Thankfully you could tell, angling his shaft downward and allowing him the gift of watching thick ropes of his cum paint your partially exposed tits, leaving a translucent shine across your skin.

Dante’s chest heaves, back flat against the wall, and the hand that gripped the back of your head just moments prior now gently massages it.

“Was that alright?” You ask, cheek still pressed against him, eyes expectant.

He smiles down at you, deciding halfway to cut the bullshit and help you up instead, cupping your face while kissing you very nearly stupid.

————-

in

“Insi— fuck, Dante,” you hiss, back arching and pressing your chest against his which dwarfs you in comparison to its width. His hands slide into the dip of your waist, holding you arched at the angle your body naturally assumed in the throes of pleasure he’s provided.

”What was that?” He thrusts again, a wicked smirk crossing a handsomely full mouth. So arrogant for someone who nearly lost himself at the sound of your voice.

Your body jiggles tantalizingly with the motion, his hips rocking in and at a pace he is setting and keeping. Your hips weakly cant upward to meet him but you’re basically his to enjoy at this angle with his grip so firmly in place.

“Got—shit, don’t clench around me like that…gotta tell me, gorgeous.” He manages through gritted teeth, head hanging so low above yours that his hair tickles your face. “Where do you want me?”

You reach up to clutch his cheek with your clammy palm, brows pinched in pleasure, body feverish. That pretty bottom lip of yours is glossy with saliva amongst other things and he feels himself slipping further away, balls tensing and drawing close to his body as his release nears.

The touch of your soft palm isn’t helping matters. Dante drops his head and lets his forehead rest against yours, tips of your noses kissing while he continues his pace.

“Inside,” you bark out, frantic and impolite, before swallowing a whine and remembering your manners. “Please come inside me.”

Not that you’d have to ask him so kindly yet it does the trick, his eyes rolling back into his head while he thrusts into you as hard as he knows you like. Your legs instinctively close, the strength of your orgasm making the muscles in your thighs tense and spasm, framing each of his sides. The thrusts that rocked you become more shallow with each passing second, the unmistakable schlicking sound of both of your releases down his shaft mixing with your heavy breathing and his grunts.

Lips meet lips, his hands still holding you angled upward but slowly loosening their grip and helping you down flat to the bed beneath you. He softens a bit inside of you, still unbelievably turned on but spent after this performance, his thick release slowly oozing out of where you’re joined.

Part of you wishes you never had to leave this. The afterglow; his sweat and yours, breaths and hearts mingling. You could spend all day wrapped up in him, thigh to hip and chest to chest and face to face.

He’s made a regularly selfless woman extremely greedy. You hope he’ll never hold it against you.

“I love you.”

You say it breathlessly, a gossamer sigh instead of the grand declaration it is, yet it’s all the same to him when it’s mumbled while hanging from Dante’s lips.

Breath stolen from him, unable to speak, he chooses to kiss you until you’re both dizzy.

It says all you need to know.

[uppersidedreaminnn]

𓂃 ‎ ‎ ‎ DANCE MACHINE‎ ‎ ‎★‎ ‎ ‎ ‎N.RK

synopsis: in which you want to learn how to dance; lucky for you, you have a dance prodigy as your boyfriend.  word count: 1.6k genre: fluff, soft hours, established relationship.

reblogs ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ feedback >ᴗ<

you weren’t sure what exactly sparked your sudden desire to learn how to dance. maybe it was the numerous trending challenges that filled your tiktok for you page, or the way your friends were constantly filming and joining in. then again, maybe it was because your boyfriend, of all people, happened to be a walking dance prodigy—and watching him move so fluidly, so effortlessly, always left you entranced. 

whatever the reason, you made a silent promise to yourself one night: you were going to hop on the bandwagon and give it a shot. 

the following morning, you go through your usual routine, except with one new addition. standing awkwardly in front of your bedroom mirror, you hesitate. you’d spent the night before figuring out how to even begin this new endeavor. of course, you could have just asked riki for help—he’d probably jump at the chance to teach you—but after thinking it through, you decided to try learning on your own first. maybe it’d be more rewarding that way. and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone who danced like it was second nature.

so you start small— with the basic body movements, slow waves, beginner footwork, all inspired by a random youtube tutorial you found. you instantly feel like a kid learning to ride a bike all over again, clumsy and off-balance. in just a few minutes, you’re already sweating, your muscles sore and unfamiliar with the new way you’re forcing them to move.

you exhale deeply, watching your reflection as you repeat a sequence again.

damn, you think, people really make this look way easier than it is.

days pass. you go to class, hang out with friends, spend time with riki—your life carries on as usual. except now, your mornings start differently. you've been consistent, determined to better your skills. every day, you rehearse movements, watch “how to dance for beginners” videos, and scroll through advice from dancers online. sometimes you feel good. other times, you feel painfully awkward, like your limbs are working against you. but regardless—you keep going. hoping, eventually, your movements will start to feel natural.

lately, though, you’re starting to second-guess that sentiment.

you dance in the mornings, sometimes even at night if you’re free, trying to lock down a “beginner-friendly choreography” you thought would be easy. spoiler alert: it’s not. no matter how many times you run through the steps, your body refuses to cooperate. you’re rigid. stiff. your body failing to replicate the movements you see on-screen. after another futile attempt, you throw yourself onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, limbs sprawled and tired.

you’d picked a simple dance today, hoping for some kind of breakthrough. but now, lying there and feeling defeated, you can’t help but wonder if all your hard work has been for nothing. maybe you’re just not cut out for dancing after all.

your phone pings, snapping you out of your spiral. you wince as you reach for it, your sore muscles protesting. it’s from riki.

he’s spammed you with messages.

“baby??” “y/n, check your phone.” “did you seriously forget we have a date today?”

your heart sinks. crap, it slipped your mind.

you sit up straight, reading the last message:

“i’m coming over to pick you up. just get ready.”

but before you can even get up, the doorbell rings. startled, you scramble out of bed, hair a mess, shirt damp with sweat, rushing to open the door.

“hi,” you breathe, greeted by the familiar sight of your boyfriend—varsity jacket hanging off his frame, paired with his signature baggy jeans. instinctively, you run a hand through your hair, trying to fix yourself up a little.

riki arches a brow the second he sees you. you're disheveled. not quite the look for a date. his eyes flick up and down, trying to guess what on earth you were doing to end up looking like that. you don’t catch the bemused expression on his face as you dart into your room, grabbing a clean shirt and trying to tame your hair.

he crosses his arms, amusement dancing in his eyes. now that he thinks about it—you have been acting strange. you’ve been declining his morning hangouts lately, always saying you’re busy. and that’s unusual. mornings are your favorite time to relax, he knows your habits like the back of his hand. so either something’s changed... or you’re hiding something.

and riki doesn’t like being left in the dark. especially when it came to you, his girlfriend.

he watches you closely as you quickly change and rush through your makeup routine, forgetting to even apologize for spacing on your date, he leans against the counter, eyes narrowed.

“you forgot our date,” he says bluntly, prompting for an explanation.

you sigh upon hearing his words, glancing at him through the mirror. there’s no use denying it.

“yeah,” you mumble lowly, snapping your lip gloss shut, “i got caught up with something.”

“with what?” 

you pause.

after a moment, you give in with a quiet huff. you know you promised yourself to keep your pursuits a secret, but riki’s got you cornered and honestly, you’re too tired from all the practice to care anymore.

“remember what giselle said when we started dating?” you ask, voice slow. when he doesn’t respond, you go on, “about how we’d be unstoppable if i learned to dance… and we could dance together?”

riki nods slowly, “kinda,” vaguely remembering the comment your friend had made when he first met them. he hadn’t thought much of it at the time, assuming you didn’t really care about dancing and that it was only his forte.

“well…” you trail off, sheepish. “i started learning recently.”

he blinks, eyebrows rising in surprise. you feel shy under the weight of his reaction, the shock clear on his face.

“you’ve been learning to dance?” he asks, incredulous. “i thought you hated any physical activity,” he adds, his tone genuinely curious.

you sigh dramatically. “i do. but i’ve been... determined.” 

before he can say more, you cut in, “it’s just—i don’t think i’m getting anywhere.” your voice wavers with frustration. “i’ve been practicing every day, even late at night sometimes, and i still move like a robot.” the words spill out as you finally let your boyfriend in on how you’ve been feeling.

riki steps closer now, studying your face.

“why didn’t you just ask me for help?” he says, sounding half-offended that it hadn’t been your first instinct. dancing was something he took pride in—and he knew he could’ve taught you what he knows, if only you had asked.

you avoid his eyes. “i don’t know... i wanted to do it on my own first. and i didn’t want to look stupid in front of you.”

he frowns at that, gently tilting your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze. “you could never look stupid to me.”

you smile, touched—but embarrassment still lingers in you. “you haven’t even seen my movements yet.” you breathe.

riki nods, understanding how you feel—he knows learning something entirely new for the first time isn’t easy in the slightest. he pauses, thinking of a way to help, then his face lights up as an idea comes to him. “i have an idea.”

before you can respond, he grabs your hand swiftly, intertwining your fingers and tugging you towards the door.

“where are we going?” you ask, confused as you trail behind him.

riki just flashes you a grin, keeping you in suspense. “you’ll see,” he says lowly.

you two soon arrive at a familiar building, riki’s family dance studio. the arcade date you had planned quietly fading, replaced by what seems to be a dance date with riki teaching you.

you hadn’t been in the building for a while and apparently, neither has he. riki greets the staff with ease, exchanging a few light words before guiding you down the familiar halls. he leads you into an empty practice room, its mirrored walls stretching across one side, reflecting the quiet space back at you. the atmosphere feels different now, open, expectant, almost sacred. you’ve never stood in one of these rooms as someone who would dance before, only ever watching from the sidelines when you tagged along to riki’s practices. now, standing in the center of it, you feel a quiet nervousness mixed with awe.

“this was my go-to spot when i was a kid,” riki says, his voice clear in the quiet room, eyes soft by nostalgia.

he plays music from the speakers and swiftly begins moving through a simple choreography. you watch, captivated, as always. he dances like water—fluid, controlled and sharp. when he notices you staring, he grins and gestures for you to join him.

sensing your hesitation, he reassures you. “don’t worry, we’ll go slow. i’ll break it down for you, okay?”

you take a deep breath and nod, stepping beside him.

and true to his word, he takes it slow, demonstrating each movement in detail, patiently guiding you when you mess up,  and gently correcting your mistakes. even when your frustration peaks—discouraged by certain moves—he stays patient, gently reminding you that you'll dance better with a clear, confident mind.

eventually, after a few run-throughs, you both laugh exhilarated in triumph. he plays the song again from the top, this time letting you take the lead. you hesitantly move to the center of the room, your expression focused.

he watches from the side, arms crossed, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

when the song ends, you exhale.

“i definitely still need more practice,” you conclude, biting your lip as you look up at him.

“you did amazing, baby,” he says, voice low and sincere.

you roll your eyes, poking his side. “you’re biased, riki.”

“and proud of it,” he moves away, dodging your advances.

you laugh, then redo the footwork you still struggle with. “can we go over this part again?”

“of course,” he says, stepping in front of you, mumbling the countings, demonstrating the steps again.

in that moment, you realize—learning to dance might not be so hard after all.

not when you’ve got a boyfriend as patient as riki right beside you.

[https-murdock]

You’d Like That, Huh? - Matt Murdock

summary: Matt would love to put a baby in you, huh?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: porn with a lil plot, breeding kink, blowjob, unprotected sex (no!), swearing, use of ‘good girl’ and some insults like ‘whore’, oral F receiving, multiple orgasms.

note: trying to explore new kinks in my writings and obviously had to do one of my faves

You’d noticed immediately.

The sheen of sweat just above his brow, the blush that rose so quickly across his cheeks - and that damn cute awkward laugh he did when he got all nervous.

Matt knew how to keep it together, he’s a lawyer after all. But not with you, everything to you was so painfully clear - he had no secrets.

“Oh, my god. you are into it.” You smirk, standing up from the couch in shock, looking down at Matt and his giggling face as he tries to wriggle out of the silent admission.

“No- well, i-“ He’s stuttering now, an even more telling sign given he’s always been such a confident speaker.

This realisation came from a little joke that had come from you so casually you hadn’t even thought about it - you were used to keeping your secret kink to yourself, thinking Matt would have the opposite reaction to… this.

“You’d like that, huh?” You smile, coming to straddle his suit clad thighs, hands meeting his stubbled cheeks.

“So what if i would?” He asks, and he’s becoming more confident again. You decide to have your fun, watch him squirm, “What if i’d like that too?,” you begin, “What if i’d like you to put a baby in me, Matt?”

It’s something you’d thought about so many times before, being so full with his cum that you could feel it for days. A little swollen belly full of him, feeling him there always.

“Fuck.” Is all Matt is able to whisper, meeting your lips with his in a time-stopping kiss, teeth clashing, lips smacking. It’s messy, it’s loud - it’s hot.

Kissing Matt like this always felt as if it was happening for the first time all over again. Desperation, clinging to each other, the feeling of needing to rip his clothes off no matter where it was happening. Fingers gripping into his suit jacket, hips rocking down over his bulge.

You let yourself slide downward, leading a trail of kisses on his neck behind you, lifting his hands and motioning for him to take his shirt off. When your knees hit the floor and you start palming over his already hard bulge in his suit pants, he groans lowly.

“Fuck, sweetheart. S’hot.” It’s painfully obvious how flustered you’ve gotten him, and you’re relishing in it.

“What do you want? What’s it you always tell me, Use your words, hmm?” You’ve managed to slide his belt off and his pants down, looking up at him, still with those red glasses on that for whatever reason always made you that much wetter.

“Your mouth, sweetheart. please.” He seems out of breath, and you aren’t sure whether that’s still the remainder of shock that you’d also been daydreaming about him filling you up, or pure excitement for what he’s about to get.

You finally slide down his boxers and launch them across the room, now impatient yourself to taste him. Running your tongue over that sensitive vein near his tip, you listen closely to the way his breathing hitches - and his shoulders are already more relaxed than they were from his work day.

Matt always craved you, in any form of way. Nothing could ever quite fill the space that was left when he wasn’t buried deep within you. He always needed to be as close to you as physically possible, whether that was your little punishments for being bratty, or when he was feeling more like the one that belonged underneath you for a change.

Tasting the precum that’s already leaking from him, you hum to yourself, whispering “Always tastes so sweet.”

“Need to fill you, full of me.” He’s speaking, and there’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before. He’s usually the dominant one, but now he’s telling you this as if it’s the last chance he’ll ever get.

You let your lips enclose around him now, hollowing your cheeks. Your head slowly begins to bob up and down with the feeling of his fingers tied within your hair, helping the movements.

“S-shit, so good. Take me so well.” Matt grunts, pushing your head down a little further and throwing his head back when he realises he can smell exactly how wet you’ve already gotten for him, knowing he’s going to absolutely ruin you by the end of the night.

You take him right to the hilt, feeling him push strongly at the back of your throat. He lets your head fall up and down slowly for a few minutes, his hips bucking upwards when he feels the strings of spit attaching to him.

Suddenly, he’s pulling on your hair to remove your mouth from him, much to your dismay.

“Stand up.” He’s being strong with you now, you can tell by the low growl he’s adopted when he talks. You immediately do as you’re told, something you’ve learned with the many punishments you’ve endured over your time together.

As he stands up in front of you, his strong, firm hands gripping onto your thighs - he lifts you up and you toss your legs around his waist, immediately reconnecting your lips. Matt carries you into his bedroom, throwing you into the bed and smirking when he hears your heartbeat, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

“So beautiful, and all mine.” He smiles, kissing your thighs as he lets himself drop between them, slight stubble causing little burning sensations across your skin. “So good for me.” You aren’t sure if he’s talking to himself at this stage, looking down to see his dark hair nestled in between your legs like it’s where he belongs. And that’s exactly how he feels, like he belongs here.

He lets his tongue slip through his lips, meeting your already soaked folds and moaning to himself when he finally gets his first taste of you.

“F-Matt please.” You start to beg as soon as the feeling of his tongue disappears.

“Hmmm, knew you wanted this. Could tell the second i came home. Such a little whore for me.” Matt says, and you love when this side of him gets released. The dark, sometimes a little mean side of him.

Next thing you know, your clothes are all around the room and he’s going feral for the taste of you. Tongue sliding its way into your hole, the edge of his nose bumping against your clit. Your hips buck to try and meet his face, trying to find some release for the tension he was building in you. You bask in the way his mouth makes you feel as he kisses, licks, sucks - anything to taste as much of you as he can.

“Matt, i’m so- I’m gonna cum.” You rush out, pulling tightly on his hair as his arms fight to keep your thighs open as well as he can, the vibrations of his own moans running through you and leading you right to the edge of the cliff he’s pushed you so far toward.

White specks of nothing cloud your eyes as your body morphs, back arching into the bed. Your orgasm rips through you so strongly Matt holds down your hips as they buck at the feeling. “Fuck, love it when you come on my face.” He mutters, sitting up and wiping some of your slick from his lips.

Running his two middle fingers through your folds, collecting some of your wetness onto them and lifting them to your lips, he says “taste yourself.” leading you to accept his gesture, running your tongue around his digits and watching the way his facial expressions immediately morph into more pleasure.

“P-please, let me feel you. Need you.” You speak, the only sound being your voice and the traffic outside as Matt basks in the way you beg.

“Mmm, such a little slut for me, You wan’me to fill you up?” He’s asking, tapping his cock on your clit, your body jolting at the sensitive feeling.

“Yesyesyes” You spit, desperate just to feel him.

He pushes into you, the familiar feeling engulfing him as your walls suck him in. The stretch he always brings along with him is always a tight but easy feeling, his size shocking you each time he rolls his hips home again.

“H-Holy shit, sweetheart. So tight.” He leans his hands next to your head, pushing forward until he hits his limit, sitting with the way your slick walls hug him.

You feel like you could transcend, feeling the little bulge of his cock in your lower stomach, and immediately getting an intense feeling between your legs, saying “You gonna put a baby in me? huh?” and listening to the way he moans in response.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Want me to get you pregnant. fill you up so deep and let you feel me.” Matt grunts, hips slamming full force into yours, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the thought of him releasing.

“Y-Yes fuck yes.” Your sentences aren’t making sense any more, just words half strung together.

He can feel it approaching for the both of you, the way you clench around him so hard it feels like he has to bully his way back in. Matt tries to hold his orgasm off, knowing he’ll be far too sensitive to push you over the edge again after he falls, so he leads his thumb over to your mouth, letting you take it in and wet it before he rubs tight circles around your clit, listening to the way your moans get more high pitched the closer he gets you.

“F-Shit, come for me. Come all over me babe.” He’s telling you, voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “Gonna fill you up so good, put a baby in you.”

Again, you’re tipping over the edge into a world you’ve never felt before. Eyes rolling backward into your head again, it’s almost painful the way you convulse underneath him, the slight pinching feeling still there from the size of him pushing continuously inside of you feels amazing.

As your hearing starts to return, you can feel the way his hips stutter slightly, before finally releasing into you - and it’s the loudest you’ve ever heard him moan. As he pulls out, he collapses to the side of you, panting and out of breath.

“You not gonna clean me up? what happened to my gentleman?” You smirk, giggling when he does.

“D’you not want it to stick? thought you wanted me to put a baby in you…” He flirts, hugging you close to his chest, kissing the top of your head with the gentleness he always possessed. “That’s what you’d love isn’t it, Mr.Murdock.” You tell him, looking up and seeing him gently closing his eyes, clearly satisfied.

“Having a little you forever? of course i would.” He smiles largely, white teeth flashing that charm he always carries with him.

Matt would love that, and even if it doesn’t happen - he’ll always love trying.

— tags :)

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin

[spencerreidenjoyer]

could you do some fluff about spencer and reader sitting together on the jet? maybe like a time where it’s late and they’re on the way home from a case, and they’re the only ones awake and just chatting and being all cute?

mile-high | spencer reid x reader

wc: 680, rating: everyone

tags: mutual pining, mutual crushes, idiots in love, best friends, (un)requited love (they just don't know it yet)

a/n: hello anon! apologies for taking a while to respond to your lovely request. i was thinking for a while about what would work with this request and got inspired when i was writing this extremely tired lmao. i hope this is fluffy and cute enough for u!! can be read as gender neutral reader too since i didn't specify any gendered pronouns hehe. do not be misled by the title for there is in fact no mile-high club type tropes in this lmaoo

Your eyelids are heavy by the time the jet takes off back to Quantico. The team had been working overtime with a particularly enthusiastic spree killer, with so little cooldown time between kills that you all had no choice but to keep working the case until you had cracked it, culminating in an early morning raid of the UnSub’s ranch house-slash-lair. Spencer had a particularly satisfying moment of cuffing the UnSub, after being perplexed by his erratic movement as he was crafting the geographic profile.

You had watched Spencer down mug after mug of coffee for the past couple of days, and now, amidst the rest of the team dozing off, a still-awake Spencer still flips through his book rather quickly.

“Not tired?” You ask softly, trying not to wake the team.

“No, there’s still caffeine in my system.” Spencer purses his lips as he looks at you.

“I’m surprised you haven’t developed a tolerance toward caffeine yet,” you grin, shaking your head.

“It takes about a month for your body to get used to caffeine and its effects, which makes your body basically perform the same as when you aren’t caffeinated. But abstaining from caffeine over a couple of days usually resets your body’s response to it.”

You tilt your head. “Dr. Spencer Reid abstaining from coffee? I couldn’t imagine that happening.”

“I just opt for decaf,” he smiles at you, grin growing when you giggle.

Your eyelids feel so heavy, but all you want to do is talk to Spencer. You don’t often get time alone with him, which is maybe a blessing considering your crush on him. Maybe Hotch can tell how much you like him and doesn’t end up pairing you two off too often because he doesn’t want his best agents distracted – that’s what Emily always tells you, but you always brush her off.

“You look tired,” Spencer states, matter-of-factly.

“I am, but I can’t really fall asleep. I don’t wanna fall asleep.”

“Why not?” Spencer asks.

“Wanna talk to you,” you answer, a little too honest, and you don’t notice the surprised look on Spencer’s face, like it’s surprising that you want to talk to him. “I also usually need something to cuddle when I sleep.”

“But you’re tired,” Spencer repeats, even though you’re painfully aware of the fact. “You should rest.”

“I like talking to you,” you huff, perhaps a little petulant, but you’re secretly preening at all the attention Spencer is giving you right now.

Spencer nudges you with his shoulder. You whine, and look at him. Spencer says gently, “You can hold onto my arm. And lay your head on me if you want to.”

You slip your arm around Spencer’s, and it feels so right to be holding him close like this. It’s a little awkward, since Spencer’s not totally used to physical touch, but you’re taking any chance you can get to be close to him. “You’re comfortable.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Spencer chuckles. “Especially if it means you’ll get some rest.”

“No,” you retort. “Just because you’re letting me cuddle you does not mean I’m going to fall asleep.”

Spencer snorts. “Sure.”

“I’m not going to fall asleep, Spence,” you say, snuggling closer to him.

Spencer just hums.

“I’m a drooler, just so you know,” you say, like you’re trying to scare him off. Frankly, you’re just trying to tease him.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m–” you cut yourself off with a stifled yawn, and you glare at Spencer when he casts you a knowing smirk. “I’m not!”

“Okay, you aren’t falling asleep,” Spencer echoes. “But do you want me to read you my book?”

You close your eyes, smiling as you nod. You don’t see the sweet way Spencer smiles down at you, and before he’s even done with the first two pages of whatever he was reading, you’re out like a light.

You don’t feel the way Spencer pushes your hair out of your face, and the way his thumb gently brushes your cheek.

Maybe one day, he’ll have the confidence to do that when you’re awake.

[sundrop-writes]

Mister Mxyzptlk

Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Blurb

Word Count: 800

Sundrop's Main Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of bullying (Stiles being bullied for having a 'weird' name); mentions of Stiles's trauma surrounding his mother's death; obscure comic book references; this is mostly just fluff - very light implications toward sexual themes, flirting and romantic attraction between Stiles and the reader.

A/N: So, the last time I was actively watching Teen Wolf (when S3 and S4 were airing) I thought it was a running gag that Stiles's real name was never revealed and it was just always a mystery to the audience (like how it's a gag in Degrassi that Heather St. Claire's face is never seen). But when I saw a tiktok showing his real name, I was shocked, and then entirely amused by it. And I was also really offended because I'm watching S1 for the first time and the coach calls Stiles's name 'child abuse' and his father doesn't even dispute that, knowing that it's a family name to honour his dead mother's side of the family. And the fact that he is a character whose real name is very hard to pronounce and very few people actually know what it is got me thinking about the comic book character - Mister Mxyzptlk - and I realized that Stiles, being a comic book nerd who is always referencing things like The Incredible Hulk and Batman and Robin, would fucking love that comparison. Thus, this mini fic. Usually, this is an idea I would save and put it as a moment in a longer fic, but I'm not currently working a fic where I feel like this fits in, so it has become its own mini fic. Random idea, but enjoy this random fluff.

...

"Is Stiles your real name?"

You inquired lightly, walking out of school with Scott and Stiles.

"It's something I've been wondering since we met."

Stiles felt a unique anxiety clutch in his chest at this question. He hated telling people his real name, especially when those people were pretty girls. Especially when they were pretty girls he had only met a week ago who were new in town who otherwise didn't know what a reputation he had for being a loser and could form their own opinions of him.

He could see any chance he had with you being flushed down the drain at top speed. But it wasn't much different from any other girl he previously had a crush on.

"Cause, I thought maybe it was your last name. Guys who play sports usually do that - always call each other by their last names." You went on, not sensing the awkwardness as Scott and Stiles eyed each other heavily, waiting for the other person to speak. "But I heard the coach calling you Balinski?"

"Stilinski." Stiles corrected you. "I think he gets my name wrong on purpose to belittle me." He gave a fake laugh to play it off, but you frowned.

"Stiles is a nickname." Scott added on, trying to usher Stiles away from the awkwardness of having to tell you himself. "His real first name is... really hard to pronounce, and not a lot of people at our school even know it. So - everyone just knows him as Stiles."

This brought Stiles back to a painful memory - in fourth grade, someone had seen the attendance sheet with his real name on it, and showed it to everyone else. And this had started a barrage of bullying and rumours about how he had gotten the name.

Some said that his mother hated him as soon as he was born and wanted to name him something really ugly to match him. Some said that his mother had a brain tumour and she named him in such an odd manner because her brain was 'mush' when he was born. And whenever people in the halls mockingly called him 'tumour baby' or 'brain tumour' - then he had to painfully be reminded of his mother's absence from his life.

"So you're like Mister Mxyzptlk?" You posed, a smile coming across your face from the joy of making such an apt reference.

Stiles looked at you then, unsure if he had heard you correctly - but his heart started to beat faster and he was sure that his crush developed into full, heart-stopping love in that moment.

A gorgeous, cute, sweet girl like you making such an obscure dorky reference - there was nobody else. Nobody else would ever make him feel the way you had in that moment.

Scott was entirely confused, looking between the two of you with utter dumbness across his face, wondering why Stiles' heart rate had increased so much.

"Ugh - yeah." Stiles stuttered out awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"So, is learning your real name the power to defeating you?" You posed, smoothing your voice into a sultry tone, stepping closer to Stiles, running a hand up his bare forearm - clearly flirting now. "Do I get three chances to moan it in your ear without making a mistake before you're allowed to do whatever you want to me?"

Scott regretted his super-hearing, being able to catch exactly what you said in a low whisper against Stiles's ear.

Stiles's brain was short-circuiting.

You were making nerdy references and coming onto him now. His blood was rioting between rushing to his pants and giving him a heart attack, and soon, before he could stop it, he practically shouted:

"Marry me!"

And while this would have been a colossally awkward fumble with any other girl, you simply giggled and smiled.

"You're so cute." You complimented in return, reaching out to gently 'boop' a finger against his nose.

Stiles continued to gape at you, feeling like he needed to say more, needed to communicate just how epicly wonderful you were in his eyes.

"Chocolate? Or vanilla? Our wedding cake could have 4 tiers, or we could get one of those cupcake tower things, I heard those are really trendy."

You let out another laugh, thinking that he was joking - not realising that he was already picking out an engagement ring in his head, and wondering which comic book characters you would name your children after.

"We can start with a date." You told him. "Friday. After the game."

He nodded.

"Yes, date." He agreed eagerly. "A date would be amazing."

"I have to get going now." You added on - and he felt like he was floating when you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before you departed. "See you later?"

"Everyday for the rest of our lives." Stiles mumbled quietly, entirely love-struck.

"What the hell was that?" Scott asked, still entirely baffled.

"We shall have a spring wedding." Stiles replied, his eyes still locked on your back as you walked away - clearly, he was still caught up in the euphoria of the interaction.

Scott had to drag him away.

[rianemorgan]

Title: Stealing HER Fate

Summary: In an alternate take on the Miraculous Ladybug universe, an outsider wakes up in Marinette's world and steals her fate as Ladybug, determined to claim the life and destiny that wasn’t hers. With manipulative cunning, the reader becomes Paris’ celebrated heroine, earning Adrien’s love and the world’s admiration while ensuring Marinette never steps into the role of Ladybug across all timelines.

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️

Gaslighting and manipulation, Villainous protagonist, Bittersweet outcomes,and Character alteration and reimagination.

Word Count: 3,718

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You never expected to wake up in Paris—not the Paris you knew, but a version straight out of a TV screen. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep after yet another late-night binge of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir, grumbling about how Marinette didn’t deserve the Miraculous of the Ladybug. She was clumsy, obsessive, and a borderline stalker when it came to Adrien.

“She doesn’t deserve it,” you’d mutter to yourself, turning off the screen. “I could do so much better.”

When you woke up, everything felt… different.

You weren’t in your bed, in your small, cozy apartment back in your real life. Instead, you were in a room you didn’t recognize, adorned with pictures of a family you’d never seen before. The soft morning light seeped through lacy curtains, and outside, the faint sound of Parisian streets hummed. Paris.

No. It couldn’t be.

You bolted upright, scanning the room. It was utterly surreal, yet painfully familiar. The pictures of the Eiffel Tower, the smell of croissants wafting through the house—this was Paris. But it wasn’t your Paris. It was the Paris of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

You stumbled to the mirror, half-expecting to see your usual face. But no, it was still you, albeit… younger. A moment of panic set in, but the surreal reality quickly overtook it. Somehow, impossibly, you were in the Miraculous universe. And if you were here, you knew exactly what was going to happen next.

Your initial excitement quickly morphed into envy. Marinette, in all her awkwardness, was destined to become the heroine, to wield the Ladybug Miraculous and save Paris. But why? You were smarter, more decisive, and less distracted. If anyone deserved that kind of power, it was you.

And then you realized—you could take it.

The memory of the Origins episode was fresh in your mind. Master Fu would soon be in trouble, and Marinette was supposed to save him. But if you acted first, you could claim the Miraculous and rewrite destiny itself.

The plan was simple: stay close to Marinette, wait for the right moment, and steal her fate.

That morning, your new parents—kind strangers who felt oddly warm—called you down to breakfast. They smiled as though you’d always been their child, and while it was disconcerting, you played along. Over croissants and jam, your mother handed you a small box of mooncake. “For your first day at your new school,” she said with a smile.

You nodded, murmuring your thanks. But your mind was already racing. You knew the plot. You knew what today would bring. You were determined to take the chance Marinette was supposed to have. After all, why not? If fate had given you this opportunity, then wasn’t it meant to be yours?

The streets of Paris were just as lively as you imagined, the sights both foreign and familiar. You approached the school with your cookies in hand, keeping an eye out for the key moment.

At the crosswalk, you saw him: Master Fu, the elderly guardian of the Miraculouses, hobbling across the street. You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as you spotted the scene unfolding. This was the moment. This was where Marinette was supposed to step in.  

But not today.

You ran forward, reaching him just in time. “Sir, watch out!” you shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him to safety. The car whizzed by, the driver honking angrily.

Master Fu looked up at you with a warm, grateful smile. “Thank you, young lady. That was very brave of you.”

You smiled warmly, masking your inner glee. “It was nothing, sir. Are you okay?”

He nodded, adjusting his cane. He wobbled precariously, and you helped steady  him. “Here, let me help you,” you said, guiding him to the sidewalk.

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

You noticed Marinette standing a few steps away, her box of macarons clutched tightly. She had seen the whole thing, but she hadn’t had a chance to act. You shot her a quick glance, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Would you like one of these?” you asked, pulling a mooncake from the box and handing it to Master Fu.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it with a smile. “You’re a very thoughtful young lady.”

Marinette hesitated, her eyes darting between you and Master Fu. “Um… I was going to—”

“Oh, were you?” you interrupted, feigning surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Marinette frowned but didn’t respond. She tightened her grip on her macarons and walked away, her excitement from earlier dimmed.

As you made your way to school, a flicker of guilt passed through you. You now destroy Marinette’s chance to be Ladybug. No. You stole her chance to be Ladybug. But she didn’t need to be Ladybug. You were here now, and you would be better.

The classroom buzzed with energy as you entered. Marinette Dupain-Cheng sat near the front, she stares at you but quickly looks away. It's obvious she didn’t like you when a frown curved her mouth. You didn’t care, you're not here to be friends with her anyways. You took a seat a few rows away, watching as the class dynamics played out like clockwork: Chloé Bourgeois asserting her dominance, and Alya standing up for Marinette, But your focus was elsewhere. Your mind was on what would come later.

Later that day, the akuma attack on Stoneheart interrupted class. You feigned fear like everyone else, though inside, you were buzzing with anticipation. This was how the story began.

Because of what happened, school was suspended, sending every student back to the safety of their homes. You returned home to find a small ornate box on your desk. You opened it with trembling hands, revealing the Ladybug Miraculous. Tikki appeared, her tiny figure glowing with excitement.

You fake shout in surprise, asking what she is.

“Hello! I’m Tikki, your kwami. And Y/N, you’ve been chosen to wield the Ladybug Miraculous and protect Paris!”

You feigned shock, though inwardly you were thrilled. “Me? Are you sure? I’m just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Tikki’s eyes sparkled. “You can. I believe in you. You have the courage and heart to protect Paris! Just wear the earring and say the phrase: Spots On!”

Meanwhile, Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her first day had started with such promise, but it had ended with a strange, gnawing emptiness.

She vented to Alya the next day. “It’s just… that girl, she swooped in and saved that man. I wanted to help, but she just… took over.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You mean Y/N? I don’t know her that well, but she seemed nice enough. Maybe you’re just thinking too much about it, Marinette.”

Marinette frowned. “Maybe…”

But the doubt lingered.

The battle against Stoneheart played out just as you had anticipated, though with one key difference: you were in control and you already knew what to do. With the help of Chat Noir, you used your Lucky Charm to defeat the villain and purify the akuma, restoring Ivan to normal.

The people of Paris cheered as you stood victorious. You had done it. You were Ladybug.

Days turned into weeks, and you quickly became the perfect hero Paris needed. You saved the city countless times, each victory cementing your role as its protector. Fighting alongside Chat Noir was exhilarating. The people adored you, showering you with praise and gratitude.

But Marinette hated you. She didn’t hide it, either. She avoided you at school, her glares sharp enough to cut glass whenever you crossed paths.

You returned the sentiment. Marinette’s bitterness annoys you to no end. 

“I know you’re hiding something!! You’re not what they say you are!” Marinette snapped one day after school. “I know it!! You stole something from me!!

You smirked, leaning against a wall. “I don’t know what you're talking about Marinette, you can’t just convict me without evidence~ who knows I might slip and suddenly post this to the internet~” You said whilst holding a phone with evidence of Marinette stalking adrien.

Her face turned a lot more pale than it already was, her hands balled into fists, but she said nothing, storming off.

Despite your animosity, you excelled as Ladybug. Every akuma was defeated swiftly, every crisis averted. You were meticulous, calculating, and unyielding. Where Marinette would have hesitated, you acted decisively. 

Paris flourished under your protection, and even Chat Noir—still oblivious to your identity—admired your skill and determination. 

“You’re amazing, Ladybug,” Chat said one night after a battle. “I can’t imagine anyone else doing what you do.”

You smiled, leaning casually against a rooftop ledge. “Thanks, Chat. It’s nice to hear that.”

But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadn’t just stolen Marinette’s fate—you’d rewritten it entirely. And while guilt occasionally gnawed at you, the adoration of Paris drowned it out.

This was your destiny now, and you wouldn’t let anyone take it from you.

Marinette remained an ordinary girl, but something in her seemed to shift. She began to grow more suspicious of you, plagued by dreams where she was Ladybug.

The dreams started weeks later. Marinette woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. In her dreams, she was Ladybug—fighting akumas, swinging through the city, standing beside Chat Noir.

“I am Ladybug..”

But when she woke up, reality hit her like a brick wall. That wasn’t her life. It was yours.

“No!! I am supposed to be Ladybug!!”

Confused and angry, she cornered you one day after class, eyes blazing with determination. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling with anger. “I know I was supposed to be Ladybug.”

You tilted your head, a cold smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“It feels real,” she insisted. “Like it’s a memory, not just a dream. No. I know it's real!! I am Ladybug!! You stole it from me! You're a thief Y/N!!”

You stepped closer, your voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. “Maybe I did. and Maybe I am. But let’s face it, Marinette—you’re no hero. You’re obsessive, and distracted by your crush on Adrien. Your stalker behavior is not something a heroine should possess. Paris deserves better, and that’s me. I already have the Miraculous, and doing a REALLY GREAT job at it, what makes you think you deserve it anymore??”

Her face flushed with anger, but she had no response. You walked away, triumphant. The Miraculous was no longer hers to claim, and you will make sure it stayed that way.

Paris sparkled under the moonlight as you stood on the Eiffel Tower, gazing over the city you had come to love—and rule as its heroine. With the weight of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Guardianship on your shoulders, you felt untouchable.

That was until a glowing portal split the sky open.

Out stepped Bunnix, her expression hard and accusing. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “We need to talk, Ladybug.”

You crossed your arms, feigning nonchalance. “Bunnix. To what do I owe the pleasure of a time traveler’s visit?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Cut the act. You know why I’m here.”

Chat Noir appeared at your side, his baton at the ready. “What’s going on, Bunnix? You seem… tense.”

Bunnix pointed at you. “She’s not supposed to be Ladybug.”

Chat Noir blinked, stepping protectively in front of you. “What are you talking about? She’s Ladybug. She’s saved Paris more times than we can count!”

“She’s not supposed to be here,” she said, her voice sharp as her glowing portal shimmered behind her. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng was supposed to be Ladybug. This version of reality shouldn’t exist! You’ve disrupted everything!”

You crossed your arms, unfazed. “Paris is safe, isn’t it? I’ve done my job. Heck I even did a good job saving this world”

Bunnix stepped closer, her tone accusatory. “You’ve changed it, I’ve seen it. Marinette was supposed to save Master Fu. She was supposed to receive the Miraculous. But you—you interfered. You stole her destiny!!”

Chat Noir stood protectively in front of you. “Hey, back off. Ladybug’s saved this city countless times. Who cares what was ‘supposed’ to happen and who can receive the Miraculous?!”

Bunnix glared at you both. “This isn’t just about this world. The timelines are unraveling because of her!”

You smirked, letting your mask of innocence drop. You gently push Chat noir aside, stepping closer to Bunnix.

“It doesn’t matter what was supposed to happen. I’m Ladybug now. I’m the Guardian, the center of this world. And if Chat Noir protecting me despite what I did isn’t proof enough that her fate as Ladybug now officially belongs to me… *smirk* Haven’t realized it yet? This world is now synchronizing with me, just like how a world favors the protagonist… Marinette wasn’t fit for this responsibility, and I made sure Paris got the hero it deserves. And unfortunately for her, this world agrees, whether you like it or not~” You whispered lowly to her

Bunnix clenched her fists. “You’ve broken the balance. Do you realize what you’ve done? The entire multiverse is at risk!”

You shrugged. “Then I’ll fix it. As the Guardian, I have authority over all the Miraculouses, including yours.”

Bunnix’s eyes widened in realization. “You wouldn’t—”

With a wave of your hand, you summoned the Bunny Miraculous. The portal behind Bunnix flickered and closed as her powers were stripped away. She staggered, powerless, and glared at you with fury.

“You can’t do this!” she shouted as she was returned to the timeline she came from.

“Oh, I can,” you said, your voice icy. “And I will.”

 You donned the Bunny Miraculous and rewrote reality, ensuring Marinette never became Ladybug in any timeline.

You stood tall, the portal you had summoned with Fluff's guidance shimmered with an ethereal glow, its swirling energies casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the rooftop. Beside you, Chat Noir’s green eyes were filled with uncertainty, a rare crack in his usually confident demeanor.

“Ladybug,” Chat Noir said softly, his voice almost pleading, “are you sure this is the right thing to do? I trust you, but... tampering with time feels... dangerous.”

You turned to him, a small, serene smile gracing your lips, the halo of your presence making him instinctively relax. The effect was subtle but undeniable—your words carried weight, as though the universe itself bent to support you. This power, this influence, wasn’t yours initially. You had stolen it, just like Marinette’s fate. But now, it was yours, and you wielded it masterfully.

“Chat Noir,” you began, your voice steady and filled with conviction, “this isn’t about what’s easy. It’s about what’s necessary.”

“But the timeline—changing things could destroy—”

“Destroy what, exactly?” you interrupted gently, your tone laced with practiced sincerity. “I’ve already disrupted it simply by being here. If I don’t act now, the balance will collapse entirely. I’ll vanish, Chat. We’ll vanish.”

He froze, his hands clenching tightly around his staff. “Vanish? What do you mean?”

Your expression softened, your red eyes glistening with what seemed like vulnerability. “I wasn’t meant to be here, remember? If the universe realizes I don’t belong, it’ll correct itself—and I’ll disappear, taking everything we’ve built with me. Paris will lose its Ladybug. You’ll lose me, Chat.”

The thought seemed to strike him deeply. His jaw tensed, his emerald gaze flickering with desperation. “I can’t let that happen. But why go to every timeline? Why stop... Marinette?”

You reached out, placing a gloved hand on his cheek. The gesture was intimate, calculated. “Because Marinette was never meant to have this power. She wasn’t strong enough. Look at what I’ve accomplished, Chat. Paris has never been safer. The people trust us, they trust me. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if someone weaker had been given this responsibility? She would’ve crumbled under the pressure, endangering everyone.”

Chat Noir looked away, guilt and hesitation written all over his face. “But... Marinette never seemed... bad.”

You tilted his chin back to face you, your voice a quiet murmur, dripping with affection and manipulation. “That’s because you don’t know what she would’ve done with this power. Trust me, Chat. I’m not doing this for myself—I’m doing it for Paris. For us.”

His resolve wavered, the pull of your halo overwhelming his doubts. The world revolved around you now, and it was only natural that he would follow your lead.

“I don’t want to lose you, Ladybug,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your fingers brushing against his. “But I need you to trust me. Together, we’ll ensure that this world—and every other—is safe and whole. I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

With a reluctant nod, Chat Noir stepped back, his staff lowering in submission. “I trust you, Milady. Always.”

The portal grew brighter, illuminating your face with a crimson glow as you stepped forward. Inwardly, you reveled in your triumph. This wasn’t just about fixing timelines or ensuring balance—it was about solidifying your place as the center of this world. The Ladybug. The hero. The one who mattered most.

Marinette would never again have the chance to be Ladybug, not in this timeline or any other. The universes would belong to you now. With one last glance at Chat Noir, you stepped through the portal, ready to rewrite reality itself.

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ADDITIONAL SCENARIO:

The sky above Paris was a canvas of pink and gold hues, a fitting backdrop for the triumphant end of an era. Hawkmoth had been defeated, his Miraculous reclaimed, and the balance of power restored. The Miracle Box was secured, its treasures now beyond the reach of those who would misuse them. For the first time in years, Paris was at peace, its people celebrating the heroes who had brought them here.

Standing atop the Eiffel Tower, you gazed over the city with Adrien by your side. The red and black of your Ladybug suit shimmered faintly in the setting sunlight, a symbol now synonymous with victory, hope, and resilience. Adrien, still in his Chat Noir guise but no longer bearing the same burdens, looked at you with admiration.

“You did it,” he said softly, a smile spreading across his face. “Ladybug, you saved everyone.”

The words should have brought unmitigated joy, and they did—partially. The world was safe, and Paris adored you. People cheered as your identity was revealed, their faith in their heroine unshaken. Even Adrien, your partner in battle and in life, stood unwaveringly by your side, his pride in you radiating like the sun.

Yet, beneath the surface, you couldn’t quite shake an unfamiliar tension. It wasn’t guilt, not exactly. It was a feeling you couldn’t name, a quiet unease that lingered despite the cheers and celebrations.

“Do you think it’s really over?” you asked, your voice barely louder than the wind.

Adrien’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “It’s over, my Lady. You’ve done more than anyone could have ever asked for. Paris, no—the world owes you everything.” His green eyes met yours, filled with warmth and certainty. “I owe you everything.”

His words should have been enough, and in many ways, they were. You leaned against him, allowing the comfort of his presence to settle over you.

The streets below were alive with celebration. Parisians rejoiced, the weight of fear and uncertainty finally lifted. Even beyond Paris, the world had embraced you as their Ladybug, their symbol of hope. For the first time, everything felt aligned, as though the universe itself had recognized your place at its center.

And yet, in the quiet moments between Adrien’s reassurances and the city’s applause, that tension remained.

Elsewhere in Paris, Marinette sat on the balcony of her cozy apartment, a faint smile playing on her lips as she watched Luka strum his guitar. The melody was soft and soothing, wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” she said, her voice wistful but not bitter.

Luka glanced up, his expression calm and understanding. “The city is safe now. That’s what matters.”

She nodded, her gaze drifting to the distant Eiffel Tower. She didn’t envy you—not entirely. She had carved out a life for herself, a happy one. The bakery was thriving, her designs were starting to gain recognition, and Luka’s steady presence brought her a sense of peace she hadn’t known she needed.

But deep down, there was an ache she couldn’t quite ignore. She had once dreamed of being Ladybug, of carrying the weight of the Miraculous and protecting Paris. That dream had been taken from her, rewritten in a way she couldn’t change. And while she didn’t begrudge your success—how could she? You had saved them all—there was a part of her that mourned what might have been.

“Do you think she’s happy?” Marinette asked suddenly, surprising even herself.

Luka’s fingers paused on the strings. “I think she did what she believed was right,” he said after a moment. “And I think she’s still figuring out what happiness looks like.”

Marinette nodded, her faint smile returning. It wasn’t the life she had imagined, but it was hers. And with Luka by her side, she could find contentment in that.

Back atop the Eiffel Tower, you stood with Adrien as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, casting the city in twilight. Paris was happy. The world was happy. And you were, too—or at least, you told yourself you were.

“Do you feel it?” Adrien asked, breaking the silence.

“Feel what?”

“The peace,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s overwhelming. I’ve never seen Paris like this.”

You smiled, his words grounding you. “It’s everything I worked for.”

“And you deserve it,” he said firmly, pulling you into an embrace. “You deserve all of it.”

The weight of his belief in you was as comforting as it was daunting. For now, you let yourself believe it, let yourself bask in the happiness you had fought so hard to create.

Paris was safe, and you were its hero. The world had accepted you, embraced you, celebrated you. Yet, as you looked out over the city, the faint tension lingered—a quiet reminder that even in victory, some battles are never truly won.

THE END

[ego13]

꒰ 𝐝𝐞 ' 𝟕𝟎'𝑠 かん C𝑶ME HERE BABY D𝑶LL – YU JIMIN X FEM!READER | 𝟏𝟐r͠r ৎׅ

彡ׁ ₊ https://now_playing: Ari Abdul - BABYDOLL

꒰ ˖࣪ ᳝ https://synopsis: after a few months of dating, you and your girlfriend decided to take it to the next level, and so she decided to teach you something that you didn’t even know about before.

Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ https://warnings: lesbian sex, first time, slow sex, fingering, scissoring, dirty talk, body worship, sexual inexperience, awkwardness, prelude, first kiss, nipple sucking, innocence kink, praise kink, pet names.

Ꮺ pairing: yu jimin x reader (that was supposed to be fic with wonyoung, but I changed my mind at the last moment)

⩩ • ₊°꒰ https://word_count: 1,8k

you and jimin had been in a relationship for a few months now, and in fact, your mutual friends clearly weren’t able to understand how fate had managed to bring you both together, after all, you were the complete opposite of her, a quiet and shy good girl of your parents and she, a person who appears at school once a month and does not even know what it means to be embarrassed.

in fact, this never bothered you, the most important thing was that there was comfort and understanding in the relationship, and the rest was not important. constant walks, gifts, tender words and warm evenings in each other’s company were what brightened up every minute of your life, and the only thing you always asked for was that this moment would never end.

next to her you felt like the happiest and most beloved girl in this world, because yu spent all her free time with you, the way she looked at you like a lost puppy when you tried to explain to her yet another physics topic that she couldn’t understand, because she missed class for the thousandth time, the way she let you climb on her lap, watching with anticipation as you tried out another makeup look on her and the way she always wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, every time you cooked something for both of you, because she doesn’t know how to cook, always warmed your heart.

karina was definitely that type of loving girl who never missed an opportunity to give you another compliment or pick another flower for you on the street, which you will definitely put in the small vase she gifted you on your table or flood you with messages from the very morning, when you leave for college, calling you silly, because what adequate person would come to the first lesson?

over time, you began to notice how her look at you changed, became more desirable and hungry, it’s obvious that you were a little scared by this, but soon, on the contrary, you began to like to catch such glances on yourself, and she clearly didn't mind giving it to you, and one evening, you always decided to let her go further than usual.

she sits you, who was unresisting on the dismantled bed and firmly takes her soft palms in hers, making you look at her, "are you afraid, sweetheart?" you nodded shyly, lowering your gaze, but her finger rested on your chin, not allowing you to lower your head, "everything will be fine, I promise, I won’t hurt you, cat..."

your eyelashes begin to flutter from her low begging voice. your hands tremble, held by jimin's tenacious fingers, and your cheeks are scorched with renewed vigor by a treacherous heat. your shamefully become moist and rest woundedly on her serious face. her eyes shamelessly drop under the thin fabric of your t-shirt, two small roundnesses and the outlines of hardened nipples are visible, wonyoung swallows loudly and wets her dry lips with her tongue.

your heart begins to beat feverishly, and cheeks tingle painfully from suffocating excitement and shame, you feel the warmth of her breath settling on your face. you fidgets in place and shyly fiddles with the bottom of t-shirt in damp fingers, yu's gaze penetrates you to your very core, making involuntarily tense and bring your trembling hips together, "let's take this off?" smiling, she slowly lifted your t-shirt up, carefully putting it aside, returning her hungry gaze to your bare chest, licking her lips, she crawls on her knees to you closer, and now you cannot even raise your eyes to her.

"baby doll, you're fucking beautiful, you know it?" in one sharp movement she grabs you by the waist, pulling you towards her, yu lowers her gaze to your beautiful full lips and the vein on her neck begins to pulsate even faster. she presses her chest against your, larger and more voluminous, and feels how your heart pounding, realizing that she is not the only one who is so worried about their closeness and is languishing with anticipation.

"I want to taste them, can I?" karina's eyes sparkle with anticipation when she inquisitively looks into your ruddy face and freezes in anticipation, "yes", you whispers, eagerly peering into the desired eyes full of embarrassment and confusion. smiling, she leaned lower, leaving a trail of kisses on the hollow between your breasts, before hesitantly touching your nipple with his tongue, carefully listening to your reaction, afraid of hurting you.

you really want to see what yu does with you, but as soon as she opens her eyes and opens her eyelashes, she falls into the trap of a mouth that is predatorily stretched around her nipple, darkened by the flow of blood. confidently lifting the squeaking you by your large hips, the girl carefully sits you on top of herself and continues to take turns tormenting your aching hard peas with her teeth and tugging with her tongue.

"my girl, you're beautiful, fuck, I can't get enough of you," jimin coos and, with a guttural hum, again dives her tongue into the cozy hollow between two soft roundness, she impulsively crushes it with her greedy fingers, licking the drops of sweat flowing down to your stomach. again opens her plump lips and sucks the sensitive lump of flesh deep inside her mouth, she noisily swallows viscous saliva and with pleasure sniffs through her nostrils the spicy and musky smell of natural lubricant emanating from the body writhing on her.

she unsticks herself with a loud smack from your chest and smearedly kisses your chin, "fuck, I'm going to go crazy soon, and you'll be the reason for it, baby doll..." you whisper her name in alarm and continue to move fussily and fidget on her hot thigh, while she watched with a grin how needy you were. she kisses your neck in the place where the elastic vein beats desperately. you barely noticeably shudders from this action, without stopping weakly crawling on her strong thigh.

she looks at you from below and pulls your shorts down to your shaking knees, trying to catch your wandering gaze on herself, you whines pitifully, and spreads your legs, allowing her hand to slide under your underwear, "relax for me, cat, i got you," she said as she slid inside you, pushing deeper, but you reluctantly lets even one finger into you and she immediately stops, peering carefully into your sweaty, tense face, "hurt?"

you just nodded, hiding your face in the crook of her neck, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't think you were so tight..." jimin kisses your rosy cheek soothingly and circles your sensitive clit with her thumb, you squeal quietly from the persistent and unexpected stimulation, that was clearly for trying to make you relax, only because of it you shudders convulsively, squeezing and whining.

she begins to slowly and gently stroke the wet, contracting walls from the inside, kneading and feeling them. so tight at the same time that she can go crazy, with her lips she barely touches the sweaty neck, feeling her own hot breath and the spicy smell of skin, you continued to breathe languidly, trying to get used to the new sensations that yu helped you experience, your eyes are tightly closed, and your mouth is slightly open. you clings to the girl's neck and pushes towards her hand, raising you hips, "fuck, yes..." she smiled hearing your words, "yes?"

you hum in agreement and whimper barely audibly, beginning to more freely accept her thrusts, she examines your ruddy face with trepidation, carefully pushing the tip of her second finger into the tight hole, speeds up the movements of her hand, simultaneously pressing her groin into your thigh, because she no longer has the strength to endure all this, she also wants you to touch her, so fucking much, "I love the way you squeeze on my fingers, baby doll."

after her shameless statement, you subtly sobs, gently squeezing her fingers, and carefully kisses her on the lips, trustingly closing your eyelids, then opening your eyes wide and feeling the orgasm approaching, your hand patted her shoulder in warning, signaling that you were damn close to your end.

"cum, right now," at the same moment you finished with a loud whine, squeezing her neck in your arms, whining as you tried to regain your ragged breathing. at the same moment she pulled you into a deep kiss, wrapping her arms around your waist, allowing you to sit more comfortably on her lap.

laying you on your back on a snow-white sheet, her hand slid between your legs again, and you can’t hold back your moans, when a girl does especially good to you, but somewhere you doesn’t react at all, and at some moments, when jang rises to the clit and begins to actively massage it, your toes curl, “fuck, you’re so wet, i’ll definitely have to change the bed linen after you, I think I can wring out the sheet."

you begin to rush around the bed and howl quietly, begging her to stop. you clearly cannot stand such frank caresses, while karina goes lower, kissing your stomach, hearing your words, she sighed slightly disappointed, but she rises higher on weakened arms, looking into such a touching and fucked face, your entire chin is stained with your own saliva, your small breasts are pink, covered with light sweat and your hair is disheveled, "If you're still up and running, cat, there's one more thing I want to do..."

your gaze became questioning, hearing these words from her lips, "ride me properly?" she lies down on the bed and spreads her legs invitingly, bending them at the knees, while you saddle the substituted leg to slide straight to her hot crotch, and within a moment, your open and wet folds are pressed into her folds, clinging together with a squelch, "fuck, baby doll..."

she covers her mouth with trembling hands, and she does not take her excited gaze off the place where your hips collide with a loud slapshe covers her mouth with trembling hands, and the girl does not take her excited gaze off the place where your hips collide with a loud squelch, "so good, jimin-ssi..." You answered greedily, furiously rubbing your groin against her, catching her clumsy thrusts and half-stifled sobs.

she still looks, without looking away, to where your flesh is so closely connected and digs her fingers into your palms. it’s only enough for a twitchy nod, continuing to breathe intermittently, because to hear those sounds that you both create, to see your hot face when you're on her is fucking too good.

you place your palms on her stomach and throw your head back. your hair sticks to crimson cheeks, lips are dry, and you are both quite tense and focused on the thrusts, because relief comes to you both quickly and almost simultaneously. you both let out a loud moan before you dropped your head onto her chest, feeling the way her fingers wove into your sweat-damp hair, "I love you so fucking much," and all you could do was laugh contentedly, after which you finally closed your eyes in relief, relaxing.

[whorediaries-09]

i‘m craving rom weasley smut and im so happy you’re taking requests!!😩

how about ron x girlfriend!reader having passionate and hottttttt sex in the kitchen one night while they’re visiting his family. they have to be quiet because one thing about their relationship is, that they’re almost never casting a quiet spell because it’s just so exciting if there’s a possibility of being caught🤭

just imagine her on the counter and him pounding her and it’s soooo hard to be quiet!! and apparently they weren’t really that quiet because the next morning fred says „how’d you two sleep?“ with suuuuuch a big smirk on his face👀

ughhhh i love this request so much ⭐❗ ron was actually my first fictional crush. hope you like this!

heaven and back;

pairing- ron weasley x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- it's like that one scene in where harry and ginny were caught kissing and george was like 'morning'-

little train

' she went to heaven and back now everything is turning to black.'

the ache in your core began during dinner, when ron had been eating with one hand, and the other one buried deep into you. he slowly rubbed circles upon your clit, pumping his fingers in and out simultaneously. it made you squirm in your seat, and he surely enjoyed watching you hold back the pretty sounds from your mouth as you tired not to combust in front of his family and your friends.

but he had teased you, all through out dinner, 30 minutes of pure torture, just to leave you withering with anger and not make you finish. every time you'd feel the coil about to snap, you'd clench your thighs and the walls of your cunt and he would draw out his hand.

and by the look on his face, you could understand he did it on purpose. he enjoyed the game. two could play the game, you decided, so you changed into your 'night clothes' to join harry, ron and hermione for their usual conversation after dinner.

it was a soft silk night slip dress in burgundy. it was lined with black lace. it ended just above your knees. knowing molly wouldn't allow any of the girls to sleep along with the boys, you'd decided to wear the dress, to be a tease and take a little sweet revenge.

it had resulted in an awkward boner and a distraction to him. he sat painfully, the ache in his groin prominent, the bulge of his pants a few minutes away from being visible. he was too immersed in trying to hide his bulge that eve hermione beat him at chess. with an excuse of being tired, he called off the night, going to sleep.

you had thoroughly enjoyed the redness of his face and how visibly hot he was. if it weren't for going to bed, you were sure he'd turn into a tomato with steam rising from his ears.

but the ache in your core persisted, and try as hard you might, you couldn't get off yourself. so that's why you were awake in the middle of the night, dreaming of your boyfriend's fingers knuckles deep into you, as he wrecked your body, putting you away from the pain.

the ache travelled from your core to your throat, as you slowly gulped. you were thirsty. and the last jug of water was emptied by ginny. so you decided to be crawl down the kitchen, drink some water and sneak back right in.

initially, that had been your plan.

you surely didn't expect yourself to be sitting on the kitchen counter with ron's cock buried deep into your cunt as he pounds into you. he wraps your shaking thighs around his waist, letting him feel better, letting him go deeper.

'k-keep quiet,' he whispers into your ear. the slow sensuous way he speaks contrasts with the rough pace he wrecks you. you nod incoherently, burying your mouth into the crook of his neck, your mouth clasping onto the skin, trying to silent the moans that beg to be echo from your lips.

'just cast the s-shit- spell ron-' you say, as he removes your face from his neck, holding you by the throat. he presses onto your arteries slightly, letting the oxygen flow into your head admonish. he grins, pressing his sweaty temple against yours,

'no honey, what's the fun in that?'

the big pleading eyes of yours does nothing but turn him on further, as he rubs circles on your clit, making your toes curl and back arch. he hits your sweet spot just right, and paired with the the ruthless circles on your clit, the coil bubbles intensely within you, wrecking you slowly.

'f-fuck, so g-good. just there, ron please don't stop,' you scream, shame thrown out the window. he breathes you in, letting out a small gasp as your walls convulses around him.

'i don't fucking plan to stop,' he promises, chuckling darkly. you bite your lip, feeling the nerves tug your veins, the sensations colliding to create a beautiful ecstasy that bubbles within you, shimmying through every crevice of your body.

you scream his name, chained with obscene words as you release, the euphoria of the orgasm gripping you slowly, ruining you slowly. he releases himself deep inside you, his white hot orgasm painting your insides.

he brandishes your face with kisses, helping you off the counter and helping you clean up. with a final kiss on your cheek, he wishes you a goodnight as he descends to sleep.

*-

the morning breeze is cool. your back still hurts from the weird juxtaposition you'd been last night, getting your brain fucked out by the one who has his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body.

he's warm, the result of wearing the jumper his mum had knitted him last christmas. his fingers are wrapped around his cup of freshly brewed tea. he sips on it slowly, letting the taste wander on his tastebuds, enjoying the silent peace.

it doesn't long though, when his older brother, fred shows up. he's chewing on a piece of bread, a big smile- no smirk on his face.

'what are ya so jolly about, this morning?' you ask, humming slowly. he stands beside ron, pressing his shoulder upon his.

'well good morning to you too. it's not a crime to be jolly now is it?' he winks. you chuckle.

'good morning, fred,' ron grumbles, rolling his eyes. fred's smirk deepens as he replies,

'good morning ickle ronniekins. how did the both you sleep?'

he knew.

****************************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: On tonight’s menu is Sanji, pillow humping, instruction, and praise. Enjoy! ~3.2k words.

CW: Afab reader w/gendered pet names (‘pretty girl’), dirty talk, pillow humping, masturbation, praise, instruction, edging, tiny bit of crying, sloppy head and deep throating.

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Sanji will never forget the day he walked in on you humping your pillow. The concentration on your face, your warm cheeks, your ruffled hair—all of it was seared in his brain indefinitely.

That day, you let out a squeak (or was it a screech?) of embarrassment and toppled over, bright red and frozen. He took in the sight with ravenous eyes, saving a mental screenshot. “Fuck. Sorry to barge in, princess. Just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready.”

He closed the door almost as quickly as he opened it and stalked away to the bathroom. The food could wait for another three minutes. That’s all the time he would need to cum on his fist.

A couple weeks later, he broached the subject.

“I want to see you do it again, my love.” He was initially nervous making a raunchy request like this. He has a general proclivity to making love or letting you use him however you like. But he had been ruminating on this idea for a while and he was insatiable.

“You want me to hump my pillow while you watch?” Puzzled, you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly.

“Mhm. Please? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“Okay, you can watch.” You smiled and his heart thumped. He was painfully infatuated with you.

Not long thereafter, you hovered over a pillow, poised at the end of your bed. Sanji sat on a chair in front of you. His thighs were spread wide and he had no cigarette—he needed to be as focused as possible.

You looked at him, hesitant and embarrassed. This didn’t need to be awkward, but… he was fully clothed, and you were completely naked. It added to the effect. It’s like you were about to put on a show.

You and Sanji had been seeing each other for a couple months at this point, but it was taking some time to get fully adjusted to Sanji being more than just a crewmate. This added to that feeling of hesitation.

“Don’t be shy, my love. Just do it like you did before.” His voice was soothing and gentle.

“I will but… it’s a little hard to just hump my pillow and get off immediately.”

“Could I talk you through it? Give you instructions?” You weren’t expecting him to say that. Heat creeping up your neck, threatening to take over your face, and you nodded.

“What were you thinking about when I walked in on you last time?”

“You.” You had no idea why you felt so shy and timid right now. Usually, it was you who took the lead in the bedroom. But now you were on full display, vulnerable and on the verge of getting performance anxiety.

“You were thinking about me?” The hint of smugness in his voice accompanied some tenderness as well. “What about me, exactly?”

“That one time when you fucked me really hard a few weeks ago and then came on my face.”

“After you squirted?”

“Mhm.” You nodded again, cheeks smarting with heat.

Another soft smile from the handsome chef. “Do you remember how I started to finger you through your panties first? Think about that and start to move your hips slowly.”

You did as he said, albeit apprehensively. You delicately rolled on the smooth fabric while Sanji continued to jog your memory.

“I ran my fingers up and down, then I rubbed little circles on your clit, right? And you started moaning so sweetly. It felt good, didn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” you answered and maintained Sanji’s blistering eye contact. He broke it every few seconds to stare down at the place where your flesh moved on the pillow.

“What did I do after that?” He prompted.

“You ate me out.” As you gingerly shifted back and forth, pressure built on your clit. It didn’t feel good yet, but something was certainly building.

Sanji continued. “What was the best part of me eating you out?”

With one particularly well-placed grind on your sensitive spot, your hips bucked.

“The best part was when you fucked me with your tongue… and rubbed my clit with your fingers at the same time.”

“Mmmm.” Sanji paused as he savored the memory. “I remember that. You got worked up so fast, it was cute. Keep moving your hips, okay? Just increase the pace a little for me.”

You did as he said, undulating slightly faster. The friction on your clit was turning into small zaps of electricity.

“Does it feel good yet, baby?” He was laser-focused on you. Your bashfulness had subsided by now as you got distracted with mounting pleasure from your tingling core.

You nodded soundlessly. Faint rustling noises of your skin on the fabric filled in the room, barely audible. Sanji was hard and the tent in his pants was showing, large and impressive.

“Keep going like that, sweetheart. You look so pretty right now.”

You smiled at him in between thrusts and his cock twitched.

He prompted you again. He wanted you to narrate the encounter for him, to relive the sex that you had initially masturbated to when he walked in on you. “What happened next?”

“You put your cock in me—fuck—and told me how good I was being for you.” Your voice strained.

“Did you like it when I said that to you, darling?” Sanji’s tone was warm. He could tell by your facial expression that you were starting to buzz with pleasure and fuck, it got him off.

“Yeah, I did—fuck—Sanji.” Hearing his name tumble from your lips made his cock jumped again. He stared intently at the place where you pressed yourself on the pillow.

“Well, if that’s the case, you’re being so good for me right now. Following my instructions so well. Why don’t you go move a little faster?”

Your breath hitched at his suggestion, and you started to rock your hips faster. Arousal seeped out of you and heat simmered in your stomach.

“Are you getting wet yet, baby?” Sanji’s voice was positively oozing with lust. He crept a hand to his aching erection and started palm it.

“Yes, Sanji.” You answered, breathless, becoming aware of just how wet you were. You were soaking the fabric and it allowed you to hump smoother, with more fluidity and ease.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” When you met his eyes, he grazed his palm harder over his cock and groaned softly. “Fuck, you look so good.”

His praise went straight between your thighs and you whimpered. He had to bite his lip to keep in another groan. He didn’t want to get too riled up yet.

Sanji was determined to talk you through the whole tryst. He noticed how your expression was starting to change. As your groove quickened, he observed that your eyes were getting dazed and glossier, your mouth hung open in concentration, and your cheeks were still pink… it was making him feel feral and rabid.

You brushed your clit at the perfect angle and your hips bucked again. That was his cue. Sanji unzipped his pants and tugged the waistband down along with his underwear. His long cock sprang out, red and inflamed around the head, smeared with precum and twitching. He didn’t touch himself yet, though.

“What else did you like about us having sex?” He asked, trying to keep you as present and cognizant as possible. It was far too early for you to get lost in a haze of pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, it feels good Sanji. I—I liked when you played with my clit, fuck, and made me squirt. And when you said those things to me.”

He hummed, content with his progress so far. You sure looked like you were enjoying it. Each thrust looked more desperate than the last.

“How do you feel, gorgeous? Are you making a mess of yourself yet?”

Your back arched at one ecstatic roll. “Feels so good Sanji—’m so wet, fuck, feels even better when you watch.”

He groaned at your last words and brought a hand to his hard length. As he dragged pearls of precum down his shaft, his hips jerked upwards. He pulled his shirt up to run a hand over his abs and happy trail as he lazily started to move his fist up and down.

“Press down harder, my love.” His instructions, once followed, elicited a full-fledged moan from your lips. You dug your hips down forcefully. He could see a sizable stain on the fabric any time you pulled your hips back.

“Fuck Sanji, fuck, fuck.” As you keened his name, he tightened his grip around his cock.

“You look so beautiful. Don’t you want to go faster?” He purred and continued to stare at you rhythmically ride the pillow.

You nodded and whimpered. “Wanna go faster.”

“Mmmm. Needy little thing. Lean forward and brace yourself on your forearms. Now hump faster and look at me.”

As you collapsed forward to rest on your forearms, the angle of your eyes upwards and your position in general made you realize how pathetic and horny you must look, like an animal, rutting away for Sanji to instruct.

“Ah—ah fuck, Sanji, fuck ‘m gonna cum soon,” you keened, feverishly grinding down onto the sopping-wet mound. He was stoking his cock faster now, hips pressing up every few seconds to fuck his fist better. When he heard you say you were about to cum, his tone dropped all warmth. He responded immediately.

“Stay still.” He frowned, tone stern and harsh. “Don’t cum yet. We just started. Be patient for me, okay?”

You whined in protest, ceasing movement, while he continued to fuck his fist. Milky precum leaked out of his slit, smudging with each pass of his fingers.

“Tell me what happened after I made you squirt. Walk me through it.” Sanji held your orgasm at bay while he made you recite.

“Y-you kept fucking me.” Now you were frowning, too. You were fully worked up. It wasn’t very nice of him to tease you.

“In what position, dearest?” He loved to hear you get bratty. It made his heart warm and his cock throb.

“Doggy style with your chest pressed on my back…”

“I was humping you like you’re doing to your pillow, right?” Sanji cooed and you nodded, pouting.

The blonde squeezed the base of his cock and held it there for a second while he looked at you—your cheeks were ruddy, you were panting, a faint sheen of sweat glowed on your skin. His heart skipped a beat as he took in the view.

“Then what?” He prodded. “Keep talking, baby. I want to hear you say it.”

You were getting frustrated. You craved friction. You were about to shamelessly start pleading and begging for it. “Sanji,” you whined. “You rubbed my clit again and then you—fuck, Sanji, can I keep going? I need it, please.”

“Finish your sentence, pretty girl.”

“You rubbed my clit again and then you made me cum.” You choked the words out. You were on the verge of crying. You’d never been teased like this before, let alone from Sanji. Your core was pulsing, screaming for attention.

“C’mon, sweetheart. What else? That’s not all that happened.” His tone was one of pity, with traces of playfulness and admiration.

“Sanji, fuck. I gave you head, and you came on my face while you talked down to me. There, that’s all.” You huffed, extremely put out. The agony of being held at bay like this was infuriating.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, I loved it, Sanji. Now please, please let me keep moving.”

“One more question, darling. What did you like about it?”

Your thighs tensed, readying to keep fucking your pillow at his command. “It—it felt dirty when you talked down to me. Fuck. Felt dirty when you told me what to do.”

Finally. That was the answer that he was looking for. “There you go. Move your hips for me, baby. Back and forth.”

You practically jumped into action, returning to your previous speed rapidly. Every push downwards was greedy and hurried. Sanji stroked his cock faster and precum spilled over his fingers as he praised you—the clacking sounds of his lubricated fist down echoed in the room, along with the muted, lewd sounds falling from your parted lips.

“You’re doing so well for me. Go a little faster.”

The pleasure that was flooding your body in ripples was about to raise to a final crescendo. You moaned his name and rocked erratically over the fabric, chasing the wave of euphoria that beckoned.

“S-sanji, Sanji, fuck ‘m close, so close, fuck, fuck.”

When he responded, his voice was gravelly, sinful and sugar-coated. “You did such a good job being patient, gorgeous. Now cum all over your pillow for me. But look at me when you cum, okay? I want to see it in your eyes.”

You mewled his name as you pushed down harder, humped faster, and clawed fistfuls of the covers below you. Sanji twisted his hand around the head of his cock, hissing in air between his teeth at the sensation, taking in the view.

He couldn’t wait to watch you squirm for him over the mound of fabric, nasty and desperate, all from his instruction. He wanted to cum on your face, mark you as his, use your throat and treat you with love after.

His pace quickened. He needed you to know how beautiful you were and how good you were being for him. “You look so, so hot, fuck. Do you feel good? Tell me, baby.”

“I—fuck—fuck Sanji, feels so good, I’m c-cumming I’m cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As you finally reached your breaking point, you spasmed and locked eyes with him, per his request. You basically screamed his name, writhing on shaking thighs. The euphoric wave of pleasure made you see stars.

“Just like that. Keep rocking your hips through your orgasm. It’ll feel good.”

You fell forward onto your face with a sob, jerking uncontrollably as last sparks of climax hit you like a train. It was truly the most dramatic, mind-bending orgasm you’d ever experienced. Absolutely crazy considering it was all from humping a pillow while Sanji watched.

You got a few spare seconds of reprieve before you had to get back to work.

“Look up, honey. You’re not done yet.” The chef smiled and stood up, cock erect and dripping. Bending down to lift you by your chin, he pressed his lips on yours, gently exploring your mouth with his tongue as you let out warm puffs of air in his. You tried to catch your breath but having his tongue swirl around yours made it difficult.

When he spoke again, his voice was husky and low. He was using every shred of self-control to get out his next words.

“Milk my cock with your throat now, sweetheart. I wanna cum all over your gorgeous little face again. That sound ok?”

Still in bliss, you nodded and opened your mouth wide. He quickly shoved his shaft so far into your mouth that you gagged on the first pass.

Sanji’s hands ran through your hair and he let out a deep, satisfied groan. “Mmmm. Fuck that’s good, angel.”

He pushed your head down and controlled the depth and speed of his cock as slid it over your tongue. The pillow below you was wet and damp on your still-pulsing core.

“God, your mouth feels good. Slippery and—ah—hot, just like your pussy, so wet, fuck.”

He pressed his tip on the back of your throat, eliciting another gag. Precum trickled out of the corners of your mouth, messy and creamy. The whole bottom half of your face was wet and shiny.

“Do you want my cum, lovely? Want it all over that pretty face of yours? Look at me.”

You craned your neck upwards with trouble and he when you met his eyes, he grunted and shoved his cock deep in your mouth again. You choked on it, letting out a muffled moan, a plead for air that he ignored.

“Fuuuhhhhccckkk. Suck harder, my love.”

Hollowing your cheeks like he told you, Sanji admired how obedient you were being for him, how your lips wrapped around his shaft, the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and your blown out pupils. He was grunting so loud it could be heard on the other side of the ship.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck.” His grip on your head tightened. You hummed on his cock one last time, knowing that would push him over the precipice of orgasm. His deep groans turned into whimpers as he bent over, grabbing your head while he grinded his length on your tongue.

“Ahhhhh, th-there you go, fuck you’re so good for me baby, fuck, ‘m cumming.”

Sanji convulsed and shoved his cock in your throat one last time, relishing how you squeezed around his shaft, before he ripped it away from your lips and exploded all over your face.

You caught as much of his sticky cum with your tongue as you could, but rogue stripes graced your cheeks and forehead. There was literally so much cum. The whole time he drained his balls over your face, he groaned the most obscene, filthy noises you’d ever heard.

Standing over you, he panted as his cock dribbled last hot pearls on your tongue. From this angle, with your face covered in his seed and your legs numb, he looked better than usual. He always looked good, but damn, right now he looked good.

You licked your lips, drinking up the slightly salty, mild taste of his orgasm. When he was done stroking himself, Sanji kissed you and petted your hair for a moment before he wiped your face down and slid the pillow out from under you.

Peeling the pillowcase off, he had the gall to suck on the saturated wet spot from your juices. He palmed his cock just a tad, still sensitive from his orgasm, then folded the case and pocketed it. Later, he would inevitably suck on it some more and then wrap it around his hard cock, replaying the evening in his mind.

You couldn’t walk afterwards. Well, you technically could walk, but not well. Your legs were like jello and sore. You didn’t need to walk, though. Sanji carried you around and brought you food anywhere you wanted. He was extremely satisfied with the evening, to say the least.

that’s all for this one~~ i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

here’s my masterlist and here’s my october posting schedule.

i’m posting every day from now until halloween!

finally, trick or treat?

[b1rds3ye]

Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI,  awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

[amaranthineghost]

| EVERY GODDAMN INCH OF YOUR SKIN IS MINE ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: he can't stand her, but he can't keep his eyes off her

ꕥ authors note: I tried to make their thoughts parallel? if that makes sense. whenever it's focused on lando, it says his feelings or thoughts, and then to the reader, it's repeated in a way. so if it's repetitive, it's purposeful. also this was so like awkward to write ?? how do people do this all the time? and I would've gotten this out sooner but black friday shifts kicked my ass sooooo. gonna focus on requests after this :3 (last half unrevised because I wanted to get this out so I might edit some errors)

ꕥ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, etc.

HE COULDN'T STAND HER. from her mere existence to the tiniest detail of her. from the way she carried herself to the freckled skin of her body. the way she wore her hair, the dip in her skin just above her thighs. the curvature of her spine. her god-awful voice that came out of her pink, pouty lips. her half-lidded, tired eyes that had the color of pools of honey when they basked in the light.

he fucking hated it.

the way her hips swayed more than usual and her hands delicately grasped the handrail as she sauntered down the steps to the party. she wasn't apart of it before and she wouldn't be now. he would make sure of it. eventually.

his eyes burned into her even, pale skin. he fucking hated how she acted so oblivious. the way her body wore the blue, striped brandy melville shorts. how they rode up her figure and clung to her in seemingly all the right places. the tiny piece of cloth, that he would barely consider a shirt, exposing the valley of her back when it was naturally arched just slightly.

the way her dark eyes scanned the crowd, occasionally catching a streak of light. the way her lips barely parted. her lashes fluttering as she blinked painfully slow as he watched her. he could've swore she was in slow motion.

she looked out of place. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't stand the eyes on her, glancing over their shoulders. but he was one of those pairs of eyes.

and so were his friends who surrounded him, but he paid no attention to them. his eyes were on her. they had been ever since he caught that first glimpse of her.

he always swore he couldn't stand her, he repeated it more times than his friends could count. he swore he hated her, but his friends saw the way he looked at her.

he always cursed them, muttering that he looked at her with disgust, contempt, hatred. and sure, they saw that.

but there was always something hidden in the glint of his eyes that they couldn't even identify. though they'd never mention it to him.

they'd never question when he would tune out the world to keep his eyes on her. the first time it happened, they'd teased him relentlessly, but got brushed off by him. they wouldn't tease him anymore. not in his presence anyways. more behind closed doors and in light-hearted manner about his silly infatuation.

and not only did they know there was always something more, but they knew how to push the right buttons to prove it. and the way to do it was simply by conversing with the girl, or speaking about her in his vicinity.

he'd always bark back at their remarks about her. telling them to quit, or get lost. because only he was allowed to say such things.

and when they'd raise their hands in drunken defense, laughing it off as they held a beer bottle in their hands, he scoffed at their behavior.

she wasn't his. he reminded them unfailingly, even though he acted like it.

but just because she didn't belong to him, it didn't mean anyone else could have her. he made sure of it. he always did.

she laughed breathlessly, a red flush to her face as she kept the corners of her lips upturned. she was rather engaged in the conversation before her with the tall gentleman she knew as george russell. though she knew he had a girlfriend, so the interaction was nothing more than catching up with one another.

they'd known each other for years, being introduced to the other by their mutual relationship, carmen.

even though she reiterated numerous times that the brit was nothing, but a brother to her, she knew a certain someone would always make a deal out of it.

the interaction between the two lasted no more than a few minutes when george had tapped his finger on her shoulder and lazily pointed behind her, "you've got a secret admirer," he'd joke, shaking his head with a smile before taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. his curled hair lightly bounced as he did so.

she twisted her upper body. her eyes flickered between faces and bodies to find him, searching relentlessly.

there he was.

with his drink in his hand, his eyes bore into hers so uncomfortablely, she felt chills down her spine. he swore he could see the goosebumps rising on her skin from where he sat, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel his pants get tighter.

she despised him.

she hated how he'd always find her in a room and never lose her. he'd scare off any guy that even came within ten feet of her, but wouldn't even come as close himself.

she hated the way his eyes were so green, like fresh cut grass, or like the leaves of evergreen trees in winter. the way the light hit them and how his pupils turned to pins, revealing the gold ring of his eye.

she hated his damn skin. the perfect evenness of his tanned flesh. the way his veins were so perfect, like he had lightning from the sky in his very hands. and how they branched up his arms, stopping just as they got to his bicep.

though as much as she loathed when he would intimidate potential hotties who tried to win her over, part of her would be thankful for all the times his eyes were on her. especially with unwanted presences. she had that to thank him for.

a blurred hand waved in front of her face, breaking the contact between her and norris. she breathed a sigh of relief when she once again looked at george.

"and you're telling me you guys hate each other?" he scoffed and shook his head, "bullshit."

he muttered the last thing under his breath, striding away, which prompted her to look back at the green-eyed brit. biting her bottom lip, her eyes travelled down his arms and lightning struck veins. she noticed the dark, silver rings on his fingers and she would be lying if she said her stomach didn't have butterflies.

his jaw clenched as she practically eye-fucked him, god she made it difficult. rolling his tongue over the inside of his cheek, he raised his glass to his mouth. a smirk pulled on the corner of his lips at the thought of her getting turned on merely by his arms alone.

his hand tightened around the object, so harshly it could've shattered. he watched a guy strut his way to his girl.

what? what was he saying, she isn't his. he rubbed his eyes, assuring himself it was the alcohol talking for him.

by the time he focused his vision upon her again, the scumbag he didn't even know had reached her.

to him, it was one thing if he knew them, it was another when he didn't and that's what made him angry. he could trust another driver to back off.

he bit his tongue painfully between his teeth, he could've drawn blood. he was debating on what to do. normally, he would stand from afar, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. he was fed up of the line of guys that pushed and scrambled to even get a chance to say a word to her.

his glass slammed down on the table, the cool alcohol splashing up and back down onto the table and some on his hand. it made the people around him flinch, and his friends raised brows. he wouldn't see, they knew where his eyes belonged. and probably his heart too.

he huffed a dramatic sigh. he pushed himself from the elevated table, the cushioned stool he sat on scraped painfully loud against the wooden floors. but he didn't care. he wanted her. he wanted her away from any guys, at least.

so when he stood up so abruptly, shoving past his friends who threw whistles his direction as he charged to her. he ignored the sounds of their cheers, tuning them out as usual as he tunnel-visioned on her. he swore he saw red.

it took all of three seconds for him to manifest behind her, he towered over her petite frame. but instead of his gaze being on the back of her head, he glared at the guy before her.

the guy noticed lando before she did, but she knew when his arm spread around her back, his forearm folding across the skin of her collarbones. she felt his fingers graze the base of her neck and he played with the gold necklace she had clasped. chills falling down each vertebrae of her spine as his chest pressed against her back.

lando looked like he could kill. he would, and he might.

with a harsh shove to the shoulder, lando told the guy, "back off."

the guy raised his hands in defense, drunkenly muttering a slur of words inaudible to their ears. lando nodded his head to the side, signaling him to get out and the guy stumbled away.

watching lando's behavior and demeanor, other guys in the vicinity took the intiative to scurry away. they didn't want a fight. he did though.

she felt the flush of anger rise in her body as she watched all the guys in the general proximity to her and lando flee. potential and non-potential hotties alike. her tongue rolled across her cheek, and she sighed heavily.

she grasped at the wrist that held her to him. it was warm, contrast to the cold dangling of bracelets and few charms that decorated it. the frigid feeling of his jewelry sent shivers through her arm and down her body, residing in her stomach, more than she would care to admit.

she peeled his arm off her. the warmth that was spread across her chest left when his tanned skin did. but her heart remained fuzzy. why?

she faced him. an obviously unpleasant expression written all over her face. but she still held his wrist in her hand.

"what the hell was that, lando?" she looked up at him through her lashes, but venom flecked through her eyes. he studied the creases in her skin while she furrowed her brows at him, he knew the look. he knew it too well. he would be lying if he said his stomach didn't do a flip.

"what was what?" he muttered in a way that made her think he had a few too many drinks. that he was acting on the alcohol, but really, he was staring at her. he wouldn't admit it though. never.

"what's wrong with you, norris?" she exclaimed to him. her hands lifted, taking his arm up with her as they slapped back down to her thighs, "im not doing this with you. you always do this."

she dropped his wrist and turned around to storm off back upstairs but his hand caught her wrist this time. he pulled her back, her shoulder colliding with the bare of his chest, due to his white shirt that had a few too many buttons undone.

"do what?" his demeanor changed when he clenched his jaw. her strong energy that came at him weakened as she watched the muscles on his cheek. she pursed her lips, her tongue gliding against her teeth.

she glanced around uncomfortablely, noticing the gather of gazes from different groups they'd collected with his shenanigans. she shifted in her stance.

he noticed this. he knew the shift of her behavior when she didn't like something. he knew her like the back of his hand. he hated it, but loved it at the same time.

he'd understood the thought of this conversation being heard by those who surrounded them, it was like there was no escape. but he would create one.

with his hand still grasping her, he dragged her through the crowd. he had shoulder-checked practically everyone he pushed through to get back to the stairs. she nearly lost him in the crowd due to the height of some of the party-goers.

but when they'd reach the stairs, she thought that the pull-along would abruptly end—she was wrong.

she knew how to walk up stairs. she thought it was stupid of him to keep leading her through her own house. he didn't even know where her room was.

except he did. so when he barged into her room, pulling her in front of him to shut and lock the door behind him, she confronted him.

"what is your problem?" she spoke so outwardly now and her voice barely echoed off the walls. she nearly flinched when he took just a few steps to reach the position in which she stood.

"you. you are my fuckin' problem." he spoke lowly, but god, she felt herself turn to putty as he kept striding towards her until her back pressed the cold wall.

she looked up at him and gulped, staying silent, which prompted him to continue speaking.

"you are my problem because you can't stop talking to every single goddamn guy in the world," his head leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. she felt like she was getting scolded, maybe she was. maybe she kind of liked it.

but she wouldn't dare admit it.

"and parading around in these-" his finger hooked the waistband of her shorts, pulling them away from her body and then releasing it to slap back onto her skin, "-slutty little shorts doesn't fucking help."

"fuck you, norris." she spat back, their forehead touching and noses grazing. but she didn't anticipate the hand that settled on her neck. the pretty lightning of veins that became more prominent.

she felt his fingers pressured the sides of her neck, her heart rate increasing dramatically. she felt like jelly in his hands, molded into shape.

he scoffed, 'tsk'ing at her words as he shook his head with a smirk. a smirk from him was never good.

he looked into her eyes, a lustful glint revealed with the streak of light, "maybe I'll just have to fuck the attitude out of you."

he watched the way her pupils dilated, the already dark of her eye becoming black as the words left his mouth. she felt a feeling of desperacy between her thighs.

he knew he had power over her. he didn't know he had this much. and just to prove it, he slid his finger up her neck, near her jaw for a pulse. a fast one.

he chuckled lowly, it sounded evil.

he looked in her eyes as his hand slide up the length of her neck, resting just as her jaw as his thumb caressed along the line. his forehead pressed against her.

a phantom feeling of his lips grazing hers, but not closing the space. not yet. not without.

"is it okay?." he asked simply. and she nodded against him.

but it wasn't good enough. maybe for others it would be, but not him. he needed to hear it. confirmation.

"words." was all he said, but she got the memo, rolling her eyes slightly, but nonetheless.

" 's okay-"

it was all he needed. he closed the gap of their lips within milliseconds. the suddenness of the warm flesh against her lips incited a small gasp, which split her lips just enough for him to intrude her mouth with his tongue.

she didn't fight with him. she knew he would win. he always does. even if the odds were never in his favor, he'd play the right cards.

but she was desperate. desperate for the taste of his faded spearmint gum and booze from his mouth in hers. it might've been an odd combination of flavor for anyone else, but to her, it made sense. to her, it was what she's been searching for.

their lips molded together. they were made for no one else but each other, at least that's what it felt like.

lando's other hand traveled down the exposed skin of her side, feeling the rising goosebumps. she felt him smirk against her lips and with the hand tangled in his curly hair, she tugged lightly. she felt the vibrations of his groans in response to her actions.

but it didn't stop his hand that traveled down her waist, and then hips, and then her thigh. she felt the smooth of his palms and fingertips as they parted her legs slightly, coming to rest on the inner most part of her thigh.

she felt her heart thump in her chest, the rising excitement in her body and the want to be touched by him. only him. she hadn't realized how much she could have wanted this to happen until now.

how often she'd find herself on the bed, that laid barely ten feet away, under plush covers with her skin covered in sweat, baby hairs that never grew out sticking to her forehead. how often she'd find herself saying his name rather than anyone else as she had her hands between her thighs, the hand she pictured to be his. like his hand is about to be.

his hand creeping up her skin, teetering on the edge of her laced panties under her striped shorts. he dipped his fingers around the hem before pulling away, teasing the idea of giving into what she had fantasized. but he wouldn't know she got off to the thought of him.

and she wouldn't know he did too, letting her name slip past his lips one too many times while he satisfied himself with her in mind. one too many times too loud too.

their lips split from each other, their heavy breaths only heard by the two of them, and they could still hear the bass of the music that raved downstairs.

her head found his shoulder, pressing herself into the white linen button-up that unfortunately covered his torso. the hand in his hair remained, tugging at his curls every time he did something she liked. her other arm snaked around the back of his neck for support.

he smirked. he hadn't done much yet, and he wanted to keep messing with her mind.

though, lando wanted to give her some satisfaction, so he ran his finger along her clothed core, shaking his head at the strangled moan that slipped past her lips.

pressing the side of his face to hers, she felt his breath pan across her ear, " 'm going to need you to be quiet for me, love. can you do that?"

butterflies in her stomach, her head shook desperately, but once again, it wasn't enough for lando.

"words, darling," his lips met the skin below her ear, his hand slipping beyond the cloth barrier. he felt the heat that radiated from between her thighs, ghostly touching her.

"f-fuck," she groaned, clenching the hair between her fingers, "yes."

"good girl," he smirked against her skin, she felt it but she was too desperate to say anything to prolong what she needed from him.

two of his fingers ran across her cunt painfully slow, feeling how wet she was for him. it was an ego boost to have her like putty in his hand.

her thighs clenched together at the contact, a strained groan caught in her throat as she bit her lip. she knew she was desperate, but she didn't expect herself to melt like this for him.

he lifted her leg apart from the other, supporting it with his hand on the backside of her knee.

lando teased her a bit more, enjoying the struggling sounds that managed to escape her sporadically. eventually, he slipped his fingers all the way into her cunt, feeling his knuckles press her skin. with his thumb, he teased her clit, practically sending her over the edge

he felt her walls clench around him as he remained unmoving for a few seconds for her to collect herself, only to be ruined again as he thrusted his fingers slowly. she struggled to keep it to herself, her eyes were screwed shut and her lip could've bled from how hard she bit it.

but when he picked up the pace, she was gone. she couldn't keep quiet, letting out her moans into his white button tee, which somewhat muffled them.

his pace remained steady, and he could tell she was reaching her point after a while when her moans upped an octave and her clenching around him.

it felt like heaven, a feeling she could've never achieved with her own two hands, she hadn't. but he did.

he slowed his fingers as she came down, pulling out of her cunt and panties. she raised her head and looked at him as sweat coated her forehead, causing those same baby hairs to stick to her skin.

they stared each other in the eyes as he raised his hands, covered in her slick, his mouth. he stuck open his tongue, running his fingers across it and licking them before smirking at her face.

"you taste sweet, darling," he pushed strands of hair behind her ear with his other hand.

he picked her up, his hands under her thighs supporting her weight while he walked a few steps to her messy, unmade bed. he threw her gently, the springs of her bed squeaking quietly against the shift of weight.

she laid, propped on her elbows as lando pressed his knees into the bed. his hands sunk the bed below him as he practically crawled on top of her. it prompted her to lay fully on her back, her hair sprawled on the piled blanket behind her.

one of his hands came to rest at the side of her head. pushing into the bed, he pulled himself closer to her as he dipped his head into the crevice of her neck, biting lightly on her skin.

she'd let out little winces at the feeling, her hands finding the buttons of his shirt, though it seemed half were already undone. but when she spread his shirt to the side, she ran her fingers down his chest, through his light abs that twitched under her cold fingertips. she smiled softly at the happy-trail on his stomach, tracing down it and along to his v-line. he groaned against her neck.

she fetched his belt around her fingers, working the clasp desperately to get it undone. she needed him and he knew that. which is why he is letting her do the work to get to him.

when she'd finally undo it, she pulled it from the loops, tossing it aside on her carpeted floor. she focused back on his dark jeans, fumbling with getting the button undone.

he noticed this, and only because he wanted it as badly as she did, he disconnected his lips from her flesh, momentarily standing off the bed to slip from his jeans, and pulling off the unbuttoned shirt from his body. they laid on the floor to get cold.

and now, to him, she was too clothed. he needed to see her skin, her curves. he wanted her. he wouldn't lie, not at this point.

so he'd crawl back across her, his bare skin appealing to her. his hands landed on her hips as he lifted them in the air. his fingers curled around the elastic of her shorts and panties as he dragged them down leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. like time had stopped and they were the only ones moving.

he'd let the cloth get to her ankles before letting her finish the work, advancing back up her body to rid the tiny top he barely deemed appropriate for anyone other than him to see.

he pulled it over her head, her arms spread above her head as the cold air greeted her chest. he wasn't surprised she didn't have anything under the top, he didn't expect her to in her own house.

he exhaled shakily at the sight of her chest. she was perfect to him. he admired her features from above. the curves of her body that dipped in the right places, the goosebumps scattered on her skin, her hard nipples from the cold air.

he pulled her to towards him by her hips, her wet cunt colliding with the tent that had built in his tent. their groans synced as they grinded against each other, the other thing stopping them was the cloth of his boxers. her clit was sensitive against the rough cotton and she whimpered softly.

he felt the cold sensation of her slick dampen his underwear, practically throbbing to feel her, to have her. low groans escaped his lips, his fingertips digging into her bare hips, turning her skin white.

he, unadmittedly, was desperate for her. he could've torn the cloth of his boxers, but he didn't care. he had money for more but he didn't have this moment forever. he wished he did.

dripping with precum, he stroked himself a few times, looking at her, he could've gotten himself off just to the visual of her.

he moved back over her body, lining himself when she pripped herself on her elbows, "no condom?"

he shook his head, mumbling as he pushed her shoulders back down, " 's fine, I'll buy you plan b, jus' need you," he admitted it. he really did.

she wouldn't lie when she said she needed him too. she had for a while. he seemed to be the answer to most of her problems.

he'd slowly push the tip in, watching her expression closely as she winced. he dipped back to her neck, kissing the skin and leaving more small marks she knew she would curse him for in the morning. but it helped.

it'd also help when she'd dig her fingernails into the even skin of his back, now ruined by red scratches he would stare at for hours after. he would've proudly displayed them if he could.

he shushed her in her ear, slowing pushing himself further into her. he let out of a low moan against her neck. he stayed like that for ten seconds, relishing in the capsulating feeling of taking her.

when he'd move, his thrusts started slow and even, he was cautious. the skin of his hips pressed into the back of her thighs every time he'd push himself all the way in, forcing her to take all of him.

and when her small cries turned to whimpers and moans, letting out strings of curses and his name, every so often, he'd take it as a sign to start thrusting quicker.

moans got louder and the sound of their skin contacting filled the room. he'd force her to quiet down with his hand on her mouth, muffing her unfortunately so pretty moans against it. her head fell back with her chest arching against his.

"eyes on me, pretty girl," he'd manage through heavy breaths, looking into her dark and very dilated eyes. his forehead came to rest against hers and watched her face. her mouth was open, he could feel it against his hand. her skin was flushed and red, skin sweating, making her hair stick to her face. he couldn't be more turned on.

he knew she was close, he was too. like earlier, she clenched around him, her mouths loudening under his hand, increasing in pitch.

she knew he was close by the uneven pace and his thrusts, his eyes becoming half-lidded and his lips glued to her skin

with his free hand, he rubbed circles on her clit, which seemed to set her over the edge as he watched her eyes almost roll back, feeling her walls clench around him.

"fuck," he groaned as he came with her. it was hard not to when he had waiting for this for a long time. too long.

his thrusts slowed greatly as their highs rode away. he felt onto the space or the bed beside her, panting heavily as they laid side by side.

the reality that they'd just fucked set it. they were supposed to hate each other, everyone knew that. but everyone also knew the tension between the two was more than just one feeling of hatred.

he'd disprove his hatred when he'd clean her up gently, with a damp, microfiber towel he'd stolen from the bathroom. he'd pick out a new shirt for her that covered her significantly better than her previous one. he'd dress her, wash her up and put her in bed.

he'd already gotten dressed against when he'd tuck the blanket by her side, he went to walk away, but the sound of her tired voice called to him, "lando, can you stay?"

her voice was sleepy, her eyes were glazed as she laid on her side, but her back was to him. he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. his belt was in his hand, but he'd dropped it immediately. disgarding his shirt and jeans, he dragged his feet against the carpet to the other side of the bed.

when he'd slip into bed, before he could even pull the covers back atop him, she had her arms around him, her face against his chest, and her leg around his waist.

his eyes softened and the warmth of having her against him wasn't so bad. he actually loved it. he would admit that.

he went to bed with a smile on his face and his girl.

the light had shown through the window, the lacy curtains, spilling onto his face. he grimaced at the light, groaning as he sat up in the bed.

they had separated during the night, but her legs remained across his stomach, he ran his hand across her leg, caressing it.

he yawned, taking in the nice, early morning when the door to her room had opened. he'd see his friends looking curiously around the room, seemingly looking for him.

when they'd see him, they silently cheer and giggle. they were definitely going to use this against him. about how right they were.

he chucked a pillow at them, which prompting them to fler before he causes harm. the door shut quietly and he laid back down with his hands under his head.

a smile crossed his face as he felt her against him again.

[777bae]

IN EVERY TOUCH WILLIAM EKLUND

Summary :: You and William are wrapped up in a love that doesn’t need to be spoken. His every touch, glance, and quiet confession speaks volumes, and you feel it in every moment. He doesn’t care who notices, he just wants you to know—you are his world, and he’s completely all in. (REQUESTED :: loverboy)

Warnings :: kissing, a little bit of making out

Word count :: 7.0k

You can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened—when he went from a shy, almost uncertain admirer to someone who was so clearly, so unapologetically, down bad for you. But somewhere between those stolen glances in crowded rooms, when his eyes would find yours across the space and linger for just a beat too long, and the tentative, almost hesitant touches that sent electricity through your skin, you realized something had shifted. He wasn’t just interested in you anymore. He was completely wrapped up in you, tangled in your presence, and there was no turning back. It wasn’t something he could just shrug off or pretend wasn’t happening. No, this was deeper, permanent, something that had taken root in him. And you could feel it in every look he gave you.

Every time your eyes met, you saw it. It was in the way his gaze softened, how it held yours a fraction of a second longer than usual, like he couldn’t tear himself away, like he was drawn to you by some invisible force he had no interest in fighting. He was captivated, and it was painfully obvious. When you were near him, the world seemed to fall away—his focus, his attention, his entire being, all fixated on you. It didn’t matter who was around, who was watching; nothing else existed except for the two of you in that moment. And somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to hide it. He stopped second-guessing himself, stopped worrying about what others might think. It was as though the weight of his feelings had finally spilled out of him, and it felt too good to try to hold it back anymore. You were his, and that was all that mattered.

He was never really shy about how he felt about you, but now it was something different. The whole world could see it. It wasn’t just in the way his eyes would quietly seek you out in a crowd, scanning the room for your familiar presence, even in the most hectic of spaces. It wasn’t just the way he’d catch your gaze and flash you that soft smile of his, one that was so full of warmth it felt like you were the only person in the room. It wasn’t even just the way he would step a little closer to you when you spoke, or how his body would always angle towards you like you were his true north, guiding him home. No, it was in the small, subtle things—the tiny actions that no one else would notice but you.

It happened so effortlessly, so naturally, that at first, you almost thought you imagined it. You were standing in the middle of a crowded party, the music loud, voices blending into a blur, the energy almost overwhelming. William was nearby, talking with a few of his friends, his laughter rising above the noise like a warm wave. You glanced over at him, watching the way he smiled and gestured as he spoke, and for just a moment, you felt that familiar pull toward him. It was then, as if on instinct, that he reached for you.

His fingers brushed yours as he passed by, so light, so casual, it could’ve easily been brushed off as an accident. But it wasn’t. There was no hesitation in the way his hand met yours, no second-guessing or awkwardness. It was the kind of touch that spoke volumes, the kind that was as familiar to him as breathing. His fingers barely skimmed yours, but in that moment, something electric passed between you, a connection so sharp it almost felt like a spark. You blinked, caught off guard, but before you could even think to pull away, you felt the weight of his gaze on you. His eyes were already on you, locking onto yours with such intensity that it was as if the rest of the room had simply faded into the background.

And then, just like that, he smiled. It wasn’t a big, showy grin—just a soft, gentle curve of his lips, one that only you could truly read. His eyes softened, and you could see the warmth there, the affection that radiated from him without a word. It wasn’t the kind of smile he gave anyone else. It was the smile of someone who had found something worth cherishing, worth holding onto. And even though there were people all around you, the noise, the conversations, the chaos—it felt like time stopped in that moment. There was no one else. Just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the crowd, your fingers still lightly touching.

His fingers didn’t move away. They lingered for a second too long, just long enough for you to feel the heat of his palm against yours, to recognize the quiet desire for more. It was like an unspoken promise, one that passed through that brief contact. His hand was warm, his grip light, but steady, as if he wanted you to know that he was there—that he was yours.

You didn’t need to look around to know that other people were probably watching. But somehow, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you were in a room full of people, with the noise of conversations and music swirling around you. All that mattered was the way his attention never wavered, never faltered. His focus remained entirely on you, and for a moment, you felt like you were the only thing that existed in the world. His gaze held you captive, not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel seen, cherished, and adored. Like he couldn’t pull away from you, even if he wanted to.

You could see it in the way his body leaned just a little closer to yours, in the subtle shift in his posture as if, even in the middle of all the people, he was making sure to create space for you to exist beside him. His whole world had narrowed to that simple touch. Your fingers still brushed, his hand hovering near yours like it wanted to stay there forever. And in that brief, stolen moment, you realized that this was no accident. This was intentional. This was him, showing you, without saying a word, how much you meant to him. How much he was already wrapped up in you.

When his fingers finally, reluctantly, pulled away, it was like the world around you shifted back into focus. The voices, the music, the clatter of dishes—everything came rushing back in, but the bubble between the two of you remained. That quiet connection, that unspoken understanding, was still there. His eyes lingered on you, watching for your reaction, and even though the party had started to hum again, there was a calmness that settled over you both, a shared secret between just the two of you.

It wasn’t just those fleeting moments though. It was the quiet ones too—the way he would look at you when you weren’t looking, as though he couldn’t help but drink in the sight of you when you were absorbed in something else. His gaze would soften, his expression relaxed into something peaceful, as if everything in his life made sense in that moment. And when you’d catch him, when you’d glance up and meet his eyes, he’d always flash you that grin—gentle, open, as if he were rediscovering his love for you all over again. Every time. Like you were the most important person in the world, and every look was a reminder of how much he adored you.

The door to the living room opened with a quiet creak, and in walked William, laughing along with a few of his teammates. The sound of their voices filled the room as they chatted casually, clearly in good spirits after a long day of practice or a game. You didn’t immediately look up from your book, letting the soft noise wash over you as they settled into the space. The familiar, comforting hum of their conversations blended with the low background music, and for a moment, you were content in your little corner of the room, lost in the world of your book.

But then, you felt it. That subtle shift in the air. The moment he entered the room, your attention couldn’t help but be pulled toward him. Even with the chatter and movement around you, there was something magnetic about the way he walked into the space. It was the way he carried himself, the easy confidence he exuded, the way his eyes were already scanning the room, searching for you. Without fail, he always found you first. No matter how many people were there, no matter the distractions—he knew exactly where you were.

You could feel his gaze even before it reached you. It was a quiet thing, an almost invisible thread that pulled at you, the sense that someone was looking, really looking, at you. And just as you turned the page of your book, you caught it—his eyes, locking onto yours across the room. It was a split second, but it was enough. His focus narrowed immediately, the noise of his teammates’ conversation fading into the background as he homed in on you.

You met his gaze, and for that brief moment, it was like everything else in the room disappeared. The sounds of his teammates joking around, the clinking of bottles, the laughter—it all faded into silence. All that remained was the look in his eyes, soft and full of warmth, like the rest of the world was secondary to what he felt in that moment. His teammates might’ve been there, laughing and talking, but none of that seemed to matter to him. It was as if, in that second, everything in his life made sense because you were there, sitting just a few feet away.

Then, as if it was second nature, his lips curled into that smile—the one you knew so well. It was slow, easy, and so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat. There was no need for words. His eyes said it all. The way he looked at you, as if he were rediscovering his love for you with every glance. And when he saw you smile back at him, when your eyes softened in return, something in his expression shifted, becoming even more tender.

You could see the peace in his face, the quiet joy that only you seemed to bring him. And even though the room was still filled with the sounds of his teammates and the evening’s activities, William’s attention was firmly planted on you. The way his eyes never strayed, the way his body subconsciously leaned toward you as if he couldn’t help himself—it was all so obvious. So real. His teammates, laughing and talking among themselves, might not have noticed, but you did. You always did.

And then, just when you were about to look away, he did it—he flashed you that grin. The one that made your heart flutter every time, no matter how many times you’d seen it. It wasn’t big, or grand, or over the top. It was small, gentle, a quiet curve of his lips that spoke volumes. His eyes still locked onto yours, and the look he gave you was the kind of look that made you feel like the most important person in the world. It was a look that said, I see you. I adore you. You’re mine.

You could feel the sincerity of it in the way he smiled, as if rediscovering his love for you all over again in that single, unspoken moment. It wasn’t just affection. It was the quiet certainty that you were everything to him. And as he leaned back in his chair, still watching you with that same soft smile, you felt a warmth spread through your chest. You didn’t need him to say anything. His eyes said it all.

And when you smiled back, when you gave him that brief, tender smile that only the two of you understood, you knew. You knew that this was love—the kind that didn’t need to be shouted from rooftops, the kind that existed in the quiet moments, in the stolen glances, in the softest of touches. Every time your eyes met, it was as if he was reminding you, in the gentlest way, that you were the center of his world. He didn’t need to make a spectacle of it. His love for you was written in every look, in every shared second of silence between you.

For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. Nothing else needed to be said. You and him, two hearts beating in sync, lost in the kind of love that didn’t need words to be understood. It was a love that was so obvious in its simplicity that it left no room for doubt. And as his gaze lingered on you, you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. Because, for him, you were all that mattered.

And when you texted him—oh, that was his favorite part. The way his phone would buzz in his pocket, the vibration almost like a quiet invitation to escape from whatever he was doing. It wasn’t just another message. It was your message, and the world would pause for a moment when he saw your name on the screen. His fingers would fly across the screen as he typed out a reply, always thoughtful, always sincere, and never without a little term of endearment.

It was late, a quiet evening after the chaos of a long day. The house was calm, dimly lit by the soft glow of a few scattered lamps. The world outside was still, and you found yourself curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, just unwinding after a busy few hours. The hum of the city filtered in faintly through the windows, but inside, everything felt peaceful—until the buzz of your phone vibrated against the coffee table.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. A smile tugged at your lips as you reached for the device, your heart already fluttering at the sight of his name lighting up the screen. William. He was never far from your thoughts, but when it was a message from him, everything else seemed to pause, like the world gave way to something softer, something that belonged to the two of you. You picked up your phone, fingers tapping over the screen to unlock it.

The moment you saw his message, a small, content sigh escaped you.

“Hey, beautiful. How’s your night going?”

It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it didn’t have to be. His words were always like a balm, simple yet so full of meaning. Your fingers hovered over the screen for a second, contemplating how to respond. You didn’t want to sound too eager, but you were already smiling, already warmed by the fact that he thought of you, even in the middle of whatever he was doing.

You typed out a quick reply, and before you could even put your phone back down, the familiar buzz came again, signaling that he’d responded in kind. Your heart fluttered a little at the speed, the immediacy, and you couldn’t help but feel a small, private thrill.

“Good, älskling. I miss you already.”

Your breath caught, and your heart swelled a little. He always did that. No matter how casual the conversation, no matter how brief the exchange, he would sneak in a line like that, as if it were his own secret message to you—a quiet promise he’d never break. His words always felt like something precious, like he was holding onto a little piece of you in every one, even if you were apart for just a few hours. You didn’t need grand declarations when you had these moments. The sincerity in his tone, the care he put into every message, made you feel like he was right there with you, every step of the way.

You quickly responded, teasing just a little, because you knew how much he loved when you’d play along.

“Miss me already? It’s only been a few hours, William.”

And just as you’d expected, the reply came almost immediately, and you could feel the grin in his words before you even saw them.

“You know I can’t help it. I’m counting down the minutes until I see you again, baby.”

Every word was dripping with affection, and your smile widened. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t try to play it cool. William was all in, all the time. And you, well, you felt the same.

You could practically hear the quiet chuckle in his voice as you typed out your reply. His messages were never rushed or careless. He took his time with each word, as if each sentence mattered. It made you feel special in a way no one else could. His messages, just like his gestures in person, carried weight.

“Can’t wait either. How’s practice? Hope you’re not overworking yourself.”

You could almost see him smiling on the other end as he read your message. He might’ve been surrounded by his teammates, lost in the buzz of a busy locker room, but when it came to you, he made everything feel like it could wait. His next message came with the same deliberate pace, as if he was crafting it just for you.

“No, it’s all good. Just a bit tired. But thinking about you always makes it better, älskling.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat at his sweetness, and you immediately typed back.

“You’re such a flirt.”

You didn’t expect him to be anything other than amused by your comment. A few seconds later, his reply came, and this time, there was something even more endearing in his words.

“Only for you, beautiful. Can’t help myself when I’m talking to you.”

You bit your lip, feeling that warm flutter in your chest. It wasn’t just flirtation. It was genuine. Every word from him felt like a piece of his heart slipping into your hands. You had no doubt that he meant every word, that his feelings were real, and they were always wrapped in something that felt so… sincere.

As the conversation wrapped up, you felt the familiar sense of longing tugging at you. The quiet ache of being apart from him, even for just a little while, but that ache was tempered by the warmth of his words.

“Alright, I’m heading to bed. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

And, of course, there it was. The phrase that always made you smile, that quiet promise he gave you without even thinking.

“Miss you already. Sleep well, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

You could practically hear his voice when you read those words, and your heart thumped a little harder in your chest. A simple text exchange, but to him, it was so much more. It wasn’t just a goodbye. It was a piece of him, wrapped up in a message that would linger with you long after you put your phone down.

You set your phone on the table beside you, but for a moment, you sat there, still holding onto the words. “Miss you already.” You smiled softly, your chest full. This was the part of your day you cherished the most—the quiet connection, the unspoken promises. No matter how busy the world got, no matter where you were or how far apart you were, it was moments like these that reminded you how deeply he was invested in you. How much he cared.

It wasn’t about the grand gestures. It was in the small moments, the quiet words, and the promise that even when you weren’t together, you were always on each other’s minds. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that he would be thinking of you, too.

He was all in. No reservations, no second thoughts. His devotion to you wasn’t just in the grand gestures, though there were plenty of those. No, it was in the small things—the way his eyes softened whenever you spoke, like he was hanging on every word, like he could listen to you for hours and never grow tired. The way he would adjust himself just a little closer to you, like there was no place he’d rather be. When you laughed, you could almost see his heart skip a beat, like he couldn’t get enough of it. You were his muse, his reason to smile, the one thing that could make his heart race just by being in the same room.

You were sitting together in a crowded café, the kind of place where people would talk over one another, conversations blending into a hum of background noise. But to William, there was nothing but you. Your voice carried easily across the table, talking about something trivial—a funny story about something that happened at work or a moment that made you laugh. And William? He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His gaze followed every movement of your lips, as if the words you spoke held some kind of magic. His body leaned just a little closer, as though subconsciously drawn to you, the distance between you growing smaller without either of you having to move. He adjusted his posture, pulling his shoulder closer to yours, almost like he wanted to be as close as possible without actually crowding you.

And when you laughed—a light, carefree sound that made the edges of your eyes crinkle and your smile widen—he was completely captivated. It wasn’t just the sound that got to him, it was the way your entire face lit up, how your whole body seemed to embrace that joy. The laughter was like a melody to him, and in that instant, it felt like his heart skipped a beat. He could feel the warmth spread through him, a mix of happiness and admiration, something that made him ache with the desire to keep you smiling forever. He didn’t even realize he was staring at you until your eyes met his, and he could see a hint of curiosity in your expression.

A soft blush crept up on his cheeks, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his coffee cup for a second. But even as he looked down, his fingers tapped nervously on the edge of his mug, betraying the way you made him feel. His mind was racing with thoughts of how lucky he was to be sitting here with you, how each little moment with you felt like a gift. The way you laughed, the way your hair fell just so around your face, the way you looked at him with such warmth—it was all so perfect to him. He had never felt this sure about anyone, about anything. You had become his world, his peace, his heart.

You noticed the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his expression softened even more when you caught his eye. It made you smile, and without thinking, you reached out to touch his hand. The simple action was enough to break the momentary tension between you. His fingers immediately wrapped around yours, a quiet sigh escaping him, as though being close to you was the only thing that ever truly made him feel whole.

“Hey,” you said, your voice gentle, laced with a teasing smile. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He looked up at you, his smile shy but filled with warmth. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he confessed, his voice low but steady. He didn’t need to say more; you could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he said the words. He was always thinking about you, always wanting to be close, always trying to find a way to make you smile.

Your heart fluttered, the quiet confession hanging in the air between you. You didn’t need to ask for more. His love was clear, even in the smallest moments. It was in the way he reached out when you needed support, in the way his hand instinctively found its way to the small of your back when you walked together, in the way his body would shift ever so slightly to stay in sync with yours. You never had to worry about him not being there for you—he always was. He was constantly reminding you, in little ways, how much you meant to him. Even now, as his fingers brushed against yours again, it wasn’t just a touch. It was a silent promise that no matter what, he was there. He would always be there.

And as the two of you sat there, surrounded by the noise of the café, the world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, lost in your own bubble of comfort, love, and understanding. You could feel his gaze on you again, but this time, you didn’t look away. You met it with your own, and in that shared look, everything was said. No words were necessary. You knew that no matter how many people were around, no matter where life took you, he was all in. Completely, undeniably, all in. And that was exactly where he wanted to be.

When you were alone together, it was even more intimate. It was in the way he would tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, or the way his lips would brush against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that you could instantly feel him smirk at. Every touch, every glance, every word between you felt real—like you were two people who had finally found something that mattered more than anything else in the world. And when he looked at you in those quiet moments, it was as if he could see right into your soul, like there was nothing more important than the connection you shared. His touch would tremble just slightly, as if he were afraid he might lose you, and in those moments, it was impossible to deny how completely wrapped up in you he was.

It happened one evening, just after dinner. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the soft rustle of leaves outside the window. You were curled up together on the couch, the soft fabric of a blanket wrapped around both of you, keeping the evening chill at bay. You were perched in his lap, your body tucked comfortably against his chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Your arms were draped around his shoulders, your chin resting softly on his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breath beneath your cheek. The world outside seemed so far away; it was just the two of you, content in the simple silence of being together.

You were speaking quietly about your day, your voice low as you described the little things that had made you smile. He didn’t say much, content to simply listen to the sound of your voice, his gaze soft as it rested on you. His face was nestled in the crook of your neck, the warmth of his skin against yours, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. He seemed lost in the moment, as if he was savoring your closeness, as if every second of being with you was a treasure.

You tilted your head slightly, feeling his lips brush against your neck as he shifted ever so slightly, pressing a soft kiss against the skin there. The gesture was quiet, simple, but it made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t help but smile, the sensation of his warmth against you making everything else seem insignificant.

Turning your head to glance at him, you caught him staring at you—his eyes were soft, filled with affection, and there was a quiet intensity in them that made your chest tighten. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and easy. “What’s got you so focused?” you asked, your voice playful but warm.

He didn’t immediately answer, instead letting a small smile play on his lips. His arms tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you a little closer, as if he wanted to be even nearer to you. He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting back to your face, and when he spoke, his voice was full of tenderness, like every word was carefully chosen. “I was just thinking about how much I want this moment to last forever,” he said softly, his lips barely brushing your skin as he spoke. “How nothing else matters when I’m with you.”

The sincerity in his words sent a warmth rushing through you, and you felt your pulse quicken as you leaned in just a little, the space between you closing as you rested your head on his. His fingers gently caressed the small of your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you melted into him.

You could feel his breath on your skin, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you as his arms pulled you even tighter against him. Every movement, every word, every touch felt like an unspoken promise. He wasn’t going anywhere, and in that moment, neither were you.

His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with such tenderness it made your heart swell. “You make everything feel right, älskling,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke, sending a soft tremor through you.

As if on instinct, you turned your head slightly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft kiss, a silent gesture of affection. You could feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, and you knew he was savoring every bit of this—of you. His lips found the soft skin just beneath your ear, pressing a light, lingering kiss against it, sending a shiver racing down your spine. You tilted your head to give him better access, your breath hitching as his kiss deepened, his lips moving against your neck in a way that was gentle yet full of meaning.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he asked, his voice hushed with a teasing yet affectionate tone, “Did I make you shiver?”

You smiled softly, your breath still unsteady from the kiss, and rested your cheek against his, your arms tightening around his shoulders. “You always do,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet warmth that mirrored the tenderness of the moment.

Without saying another word, he leaned in to kiss you again, slow and deliberate, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that spoke volumes without a single word. As soon as his lips connected with yours, the world outside the bubble of the moment seemed to fall away. It wasn’t a rushed kiss—there was no urgency, no pressure—just the sensation of being with him, completely, as if time itself had paused in reverence of the connection you shared. His kiss was tender, but there was a certain intensity behind it, a depth that spoke of everything unsaid between you, of all the moments you’d shared and all the ones yet to come. Each movement was deliberate, like he was savoring the taste of your lips, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of the feeling of you against him.

His arms tightened around your back, pulling you in closer, as if he wanted to make sure you knew, with every fiber of his being, that you were his and he was yours. You responded without thinking, sliding your legs around him, shifting your weight to straddle his lap, and settling fully into his embrace. Your heart raced, but it wasn’t with nerves—it was the electricity of being this close to him, of being in his arms like this, feeling the heat of his body, the strength of his hands holding you. His chest was solid beneath your palms as you instinctively pressed yourself closer, seeking more of the warmth he radiated.

Your fingers tangled through his soft blonde curls, pulling him nearer, tilting his head just enough to deepen the kiss. It was a movement so natural, so fluid between the two of you, that it felt like nothing else mattered in the world. When his lips parted slightly, you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further, tasting him with a quiet urgency, a desire that seemed to hum through you both. His breath hitched, and you felt the little smile he couldn’t quite suppress against your lips. It was a smile full of affection, full of appreciation, as if he couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was to be holding you like this.

Then, the feel of his hands on your body—one moving slowly, purposefully down your side, his touch sending a shiver through you—became something you could no longer ignore. His fingers traced the line of your spine, sending sparks of warmth wherever they touched. One hand slid further down, until it settled on the curve of your waist, and then lower, brushing lightly against your hips. As he did, you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, his boldness surprising you in the best way. But just as quickly as he made that move, his grip softened, and he pulled you back up, shifting your body so that you were closer to him once more, your chest flush against his.

You couldn’t stop the small squeal that slipped past your lips as his hand moved to gently press against your lower back, a teasing, playful touch. But as soon as you adjusted, pulling yourself up and away just slightly, he responded, guiding your movement with care. His hands found your hair, the soft strands tangling beneath his fingers as he shifted his weight, keeping you pressed to him but allowing just enough space to make the moment feel even more intimate.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless, your lips swollen and warm from the intensity. For a moment, neither of you moved, just existing in the stillness that had enveloped you. Your forehead rested against his, your breaths coming in soft, matching rhythms as the air between you seemed to hum with the silence that held all the words you didn’t need to speak.

He held you there, his hands on your waist, the grip of his fingers firm but gentle, grounding you both in the moment. His touch was steady, like he never wanted to let go, and you could feel the sincerity in it. The way he held you was a quiet promise, one that was clear without the need for anything more to be said. You were everything to him. And in his embrace, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The words fell between you like a soft breeze, but they carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in his tone—only the quiet, unshakable certainty of a man who knew exactly what he felt, who didn’t need to shout his love to the world because it was already known, already understood in the simplest way possible.

The truth of his words wrapped around you, curling into your chest like a warm flame, igniting something deep inside you. You could feel it spreading outward, like the warmth of the sun seeping into your bones. It was a feeling that could only be described as pure, unadulterated joy—joy that came from knowing you were loved, deeply and unconditionally, by the person who mattered most in the world. There was no need for grand gestures, no need for anything flashy or over the top—just the quiet beauty of this moment, of being with him, of being his.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, a smile that was as much a reflection of the love he’d just confessed as it was of the happiness that bloomed in your chest. Your heart felt full—so full that you thought it might burst—and it had nothing to do with words or promises, but with the simple connection you shared in that instant. You leaned in, your lips seeking his once more, but this kiss was different. It was gentle, slow, the kind of kiss that spoke of everything that had already been said and everything that didn’t need to be. It was a kiss born of a deep, quiet understanding—a kiss that conveyed all the things that words couldn’t capture.

The world outside the two of you ceased to exist. There was nothing more important than the way your lips met, the way his hands gently cupped your face, holding you in that moment. The touch was tender, almost reverent, like he was cherishing you in a way that only he could. His kiss was light, as if he were savoring every second, every brush of your lips against his. There was no rush, no urgency—just a shared space of warmth and peace, a silence that was more meaningful than any conversation could ever be.

When the kiss broke, you both lingered there, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the soft quiet between you. The rhythm of your breathing matched, slow and steady, as though you were both holding on to the very moment, unwilling to let go. His hands remained around you, pulling you closer as you nestled into his chest, resting your head against the warmth of his shoulder.

There were no words for this moment—not because they weren’t needed, but because they couldn’t quite do it justice. The silence between you spoke louder than anything you could have said. His arms, loosely yet firmly around you, gave you a sense of safety, of being exactly where you were meant to be. His presence was a constant reassurance, a silent promise that this, what you shared, was real, and it was enough.

You couldn’t help but close your eyes, feeling his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calm. The gentle rise and fall of his chest matched your own breath, and in that quiet unity, you knew—you knew without a doubt how completely wrapped up in each other you both were. You were his world, and he was yours, and there was no greater truth in that moment than the love that you shared.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t brash. But in its quiet, steady way, it was the most profound thing you’d ever known.

And the most beautiful part of all his love for you? He didn’t care who noticed. He didn’t care about the glances from others, the quiet whispers behind his back, or the raised eyebrows that sometimes followed the two of you. It wasn’t just about the gestures, the little touches, the way his eyes softened when you spoke, or the way his body seemed to naturally lean into you whenever you were near. It wasn’t something he did out of obligation or as an attempt to prove something to anyone else—it was just who he was. Completely, irreversibly, and authentically him.

In those moments, there was no hesitation. No self-consciousness. His love for you wasn’t something he would hide, something he would shelter from the world’s gaze. It was there, in the way his voice would soften when he said your name, in the way he reached for you instinctively in crowded rooms, as if his body couldn’t stand the distance for a second longer. He didn’t need to analyze it, didn’t need to overthink whether it was too much or too soon, because it was just right.

He showed the world, in the quietest of ways, how much you meant to him. He didn’t shout it from the rooftops, but his every action, his every glance toward you, whispered louder than any declaration ever could. When he looked at you, the love in his eyes was evident to anyone who was paying attention, but he didn’t care if anyone was. The only thing that mattered was you.

And maybe, just maybe, it was a little too obvious. Maybe there were moments when people noticed how he would hold you just a bit longer than expected, how he would brush his fingers against yours with a tenderness that didn’t need to be explained. Maybe they noticed the way he would always make sure you were comfortable, that you were cared for, that you never had to ask for anything because he already knew. But even if it made him stand out in the crowd, even if it made others raise their eyebrows, he didn’t care. He would never apologize for loving you in the way he did.

Because for him, there was nothing more natural, nothing more real than the love he had for you. It was a love that didn’t hide in the shadows or shrink back in the face of judgment—it radiated from him, a constant, quiet presence that followed him wherever he went. People could talk, they could whisper, they could try to label it, but nothing could ever change the truth. He was hopelessly, entirely, and completely down bad for you.

And, in the end, that was all that mattered. He would never hide it, never suppress it, never try to make it something smaller or quieter than it was. The love he felt for you was a part of him, as essential as breathing, as necessary as the air in his lungs. So, if people were watching? Fine. Let them watch. Because as long as you knew—as long as you knew that you were his world—he was content. There was no shame in loving you this fiercely, no embarrassment in showing the world how much he adored you.

The truth was, he wasn’t just yours—he was all in. Entirely, completely, forever yours. And nothing, not the whispers or the judgment or the passing comments, could ever change that.

[captain-joongz]

Cinderella

Pairing: club owner!Min Yoongi x f!reader x right-hand man!Jung Hoseok

Genre: non-idol au, pure fucking smut i'm not even playing, a hint at s2l??

Summary: Question - what is something that might help a shameless brat trapped in a body of a shy girl come out of her shell? Answer - two hot owners of a local club more than happy to whip her into shape.

Word count: 19.7k (i'm sorry lol)

Warnings: ginger Yoongi and that mama 2022 red carpet Hoseok (*in Britney Spears voice* a guy like you should wear a warning~), intoxication, min yoongi hands, they're softer doms, threesome, oral (f rec.), breath play and slight choking (i'm so predictable), light bdsm themes, spanking, bondage, light use of a whip, humiliation and degradation, reader is a right brat, multiple orgasms, overstim, clit slapping

A/N: indulge in this sope brainrot :). when i tell you this scenario changed my life i'm being only a little dramatic, long live our dom kings and i will die on this hill

„Come on Y/N, you should totally give it a try!” one of my friends exclaimed, drunkenly leaning on another one of our gals to her right, “You never know! And you should be more confident!” Other girls sitting around the dingy sticky table in the club we were currently in all enthusiastically nodded and grumbled their own supportive comments.

I looked over them, still unsure, and then back to the ginger man sitting on the bar, relaxedly swirling a glass of an amber gold liquid and occasionally taking a sip. He wasn’t really talking to anyone, just sat there and watched the two guys manning the bar wordlessly, which in my friends’ opinion made him an ‘easier target’.

Target of the stupidest game our drunken brains could have come up with – whoever manages to seduce a guy the quickest drinks for free for the rest of the night. The second that suggestion hit the table, I loudly opposed it, for two reasons.

First, it seemed kinda mean. And secondly, and most importantly, I was terrified of coming up to someone and just flirting. That’s not something I did, not that I was against it or for the lack of trying, and occasionally I entertained when someone came up to me and flirted, sometimes even going home with them. But I was shy, and when I got shy I got painfully awkward, so I’d rather save myself from that embarrassment.

“Yeah, it would do you some good,” my best friend Yeri, a tall thin pretty girl with her hair dyed cupid pink, suddenly turned to me and joined into the fray, “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re super hot and somehow you don’t realise it at all.” She was already a little tipsy as well, her posture more relaxed than usual as she giggled along every other word. There’s no love like drunk girl talking to her friends.

“That’s easy for you to say, you already finished your mission!” I whined back to her, the whole table’s undivided attention on me. To keep the stakes high and the game fair, we collectively selected a few guys and randomly divided them between us – each of us went to a specific man that was chosen by us and given to each girl.

But mine was out of this world, like unfairly so out of my league it would be embarrassing to even try. The moment I lost the game of rock paper scissors, I tried to bargain my way out of it – there was no way I could bag a guy like that in under a minute! That was insanity! But the girls wouldn’t budge, telling me to challenge myself and have faith in myself. That was easy of them to say when they didn’t have to walk up to a god amongst men and try to awkwardly flirt with him.

“Look at that guy, if I tried to talk to him he’d probably think I’m the valet or something,” I continued to grumble, as the constant stream of complaints didn’t stop since I lost the game.

Our attention collectively jumped back to him as he sat there. He had the kind of smirk on his face that was annoyingly effortlessly hot, giving him the aura of someone who was very well aware of his otherworldly qualities. The black tee with some kind of white print was oversized just right to be fashionable and hung off of his frame in a way that enhanced his physique in the best way. Black cargo pants and black boots gave him a punk vibe, and the whole look was finished with some chunky steel rings and necklaces that somehow managed to be even more hot and not look gaudy at all. My eyes trailed down to the rings, which were comfortably sat on one of the best hands I’ve ever seen, and I had to physically stop myself from drooling.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell I could just hit on that.

“What’s the worst that could happen? He says no. It’s worth a try,” Hana, another part of the friend group tried to wheedle me into going one more time. They all probably sensed I was about to give them another rebuttal, and an understanding passed through all of them.

Suddenly several pairs of hands were manhandling me, pulling me onto my legs and out of from the booth with the table we were sitting at. I let myself be pushed to the edge of the seat, too confused about what’s going on. Someone pushed a glass of alcohol in my hand and I downed it, resigning myself to this happening. A wave of compliments and encouragements washed over me, and I turned on shaky knees, those several drinks I’d already had making themselves known now that I was stood.

I took a step forward, froze, another few steps, and then promptly power-walked all the way back to the table. There was some booing and some disappointment, the girls already grumbling about how I shouldn’t chicken out now.

“How do you even flirt with someone like that?!” I hissed out in panic, not having the slightest idea of how to initiate conversation.

A barrage of tactics flew over me, one stranger than the next one, but I turned to Yeri, trusting her the most. “Just be really bold, he seems the type to like it,” she told me once she saw my trembling eyes, “walk over all confident and say something really crazy and ballsy.” With one last smile she started pushing me away into the direction of the bar again.

Easier said than done! ‘Just be bold’, thanks very much! That was the problem from the very beginning!

Putting my complaints away and pushing my brain to think of something to say to the rapidly approaching bar-dweller, I nervously dragged my gaze over him several times, stumbling in my distractedness several times. Come on brain, what do we like about him? What can we say?

As the man got closer and I got a clearer look at him, one thought overpowered every other – hands hands handshandshands.

I basically crashed into the bar upon my arrival, somewhat inelegantly attempting to lean into it with way too much force. The man startled a little before his eyes jumped up and looked straight at me, no distinct emotion discernible in them, but he certainly didn’t look extremely friendly.

Before I could stop myself, I let go of the reins over my drunken brain and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What nice necklaces you got there, but don’t you think they’d look better around my neck?”

I tried to sell the statement more by putting on a (hopefully) cheeky smirk and then pointedly looked at his hands coquettishly.

The man froze, only stared at me wide-eyed and shocked to his core, hand holding his glass halfway to his lips. Silence. I started panicking, and basically begun melting down with the shame and humiliation, already prepared to apologise and slink off to some dark corner and die there, but then he smiled.

It was a wide shit-eating grin, a devilish glint in his gaze now as he obviously checked me out, eyes gliding over my figure in a clearly appreciative manner. He put his charm on thick, lips curled smugly as he stared me quite intensely.

“Well, I don’t know princess, guess you’ll have to try them out,” his voice was basically a purr, a deep rumble that started up in his chest and drawled out of his mouth in a velvet perfection. I shuddered, now quickly getting flustered when he was flirting back. But I steeled myself, determined to bring this to a successful end. Mama didn’t raise no quitter.

“Oh, and you’d let me have a test drive?” I drawled out with my fingers playing with my hair (how basic!!), only a light stutter to my words that immediately sent a wave of heat to my already red cheeks. I only hoped it wasn’t visible under the lights of the club and the bar.

He leaned forward, chest now pressed into the edge of the bar, which brought our faces impossibly close. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, full of lust and dark promises, as his lips stretched in a self-satisfied smirk. The hand that used to hold the glass was now slowly, teasingly making its way up the skin of my naked arm, breaking a wave of goosebumps in its wake.

My whole body quivered, and my next exhale came out shaky; it was too audible in the tense atmosphere between the two of us. He must have definitely heard and felt my reaction, judging by his soft snicker, expression full of amusement and desire. Then his eyes bore into me, into my very soul, and threatened to consume me.

“I’d let you do that and a whole lot more, princess,” it was a whisper, but that didn’t take away from the intensity of the statement and the promise in his words. It poured over me like hot honey, my back immediately straightening and thighs pushing together on instinct, trying to contain the gush of sensations hitting my lower tummy and my heat. Very embarrassingly, I could already feel my panties rapidly getting wetter and wetter; the effect of the man was immense and he knew it very well, judging by the smug aura.

With a satisfied grin his hand moved from my arm down to my thigh, squeezing the flesh right under the hem of my mini skirt. The twitch that tore through me was completely involuntary and once again I found myself fighting for every shaky breath taken.

A quiet melodic laugh hit my ears and then the ginger menace leaned even closer to whisper straight into my ear. “Cute,” was all he muttered before he pulled all the way away from me, raising his hand to catch the attention of the barman, “but first, let me treat you to a drink, kitten.”

That suddenly snapped me back into reality and my brain jumped back online. As if waking up from a terribly amazingly sweet dream, I remembered the reason why I came over in the first place – the bet. The bet I thought I would absolutely fail at that I was about to complete now.

A laugh bubbled out of my throat, sweet and mischievous, and all the confidence I pretended to feel before rushed through my body straight into my head. With a giggle I leaned in and said: “A drink you say, huh?”

My smug smirk must have been awfully annoying, but the man only looked at me with curious eyes. He sensed the change in my behaviour immediately and it threw him for a loop – his amazingly brave little lamb was now laughing at him like the she was the wolf? His head tilted to the side as he tried to figure me out, but I only made sure he was watching me as I gestured thumbs up back to my friends.

The whole table erupted into cheers, Yeri was wildly gesturing something to me and it took a moment to realise she was trying to say I won. Her finger was pointing at her phone that had the stopwatch app open and she was laughing joyfully and sending me thumbs up. I grinned at her back, elated that I was able to not only overcome the initial fear but also best all the others.

Turning back to the ginger who was watching the whole interaction with curious surprised eyes, suddenly unsure and a little less dominant. I giggled at him, happily plucked the prepared colourful drink from his waiting hand and stood up, not before bowing to him slightly.

“Thank you very much, I appreciate your help,” I teased him with a wide smile, going as far as to lean heavily into his side until my lips were almost pressed to his ear as he did to me earlier and then whispered my killer shot: “It was pleasure doing business with you.”

With that I walked away, hips swaying side to side and confidence like I’d never felt coursing through my veins. The atmosphere at the table was unrivalled, and I had to admit it was probably the most fun I’d ever had on a night out so far, and I probably indulged in the free drinks far more than I should have.

But whenever I’d start feeling a little bad for my behaviour, I’d shyly look towards the bar, hoping I wouldn’t see the man too upset. He wasn’t. Anytime our eyes met, the wild primal hunger reflected in his would threaten swallow me whole, sending little shocks of pleasure and heat through my whole body.

That night I spent dancing feeling those eyes bore into me, eating up my every movement and salivating over me so openly I felt the fire of his lust all across the club. He never disappointed, never failed to deliver, and I lived for it.

And if I put on a little more show than I usually did while swaying my hips and dancing to slow sensual beats, that was only my business.

“I can’t believe you managed to talk me into coming here again,” I muttered grumpily to Yeri, who was happily vibrating next to me, her wide grin almost infecting me with the joy as well, but I held steadfast and kept on a frown just because. To prove a point, actually.

The girls (the same group as last time) were excitedly chattering in the line right behind us as we stood in the blistering heat of the setting sun on the street, waiting to be let inside a club. Why yes, it was the same club as last time.

The fateful Saturday night happened already full two weeks ago, and since then I haven’t stopped listening about it.

As my friends watched my interaction with the handsome stranger (the next morning, incredibly sore and hungover, I shamefully realised I didn’t even know his name), it suddenly was less about the bet for them and more about rooting for me to go and actually fuck him. I was so embarrassed about their loud drunken outbursts, trying to push me back into his direction and very unsubtly begging me to go and “get some premium dick”, but I stood my ground and never strayed from the dancefloor.

When we were leaving at 4 am – tired, already in the awful stages of slowly sobering up and with melting makeup and blistering feet, I was hounded the whole time about going to get his number at least (which I didn’t). I told them some things just end this way and I was okay with it (I wasn’t). In reality I was just a big fat coward.

The following two weeks were hell on earth – nobody, and I mean nobody, ever stopped talking about the ginger guy and how he had me folding with two or three lines and some charming smirks. The amount of scolding I got daily for not taking him up on his offer or at least giving him some contact info was insane, and I was slowly losing my patience with it.

That’s why when this Saturday the suggestion to go to the club again was thrown into the group chat, I knew it was more about them hoping I’d bump into him again than actually liking the club itself. I fought, valiantly, but I was outvoted. Someone even tried vetoing my disagreement.

So that’s how I found myself here, about to walk inside again in a black pleated mini-skirt, black crop with a heart cutout over my cleavage and cute little strapped heels (outfit courtesy of Yeri who wouldn’t let me walk out of my room until she approved that I was ‘extremely fuckable’) and some courageous makeup that I was slightly unsure about but everyone kept saying it was hot.

I was nervously shuffling, leaning into Yeri’s side as she started comforting me and calming me down.

“Don’t you think it’s even more awkward, seeing him again after I fucked him over like that?” I mumbled into her shoulder, careful about not smudging my red lipstick all over her pretty pink dress. Her arm coiled around me tighter and she quickly shook her head, her curled hair hitting me int the face with every move.

“Absolutely not, you think I didn’t see the way he was eye-fucking you the whole rest of the night? That was foreplay, baby. Now it’s time for the main course,” she recited confidently, and finally pushed us towards the stairs down now that the whole group was inside. I didn’t fully agree with her, to me it was obvious the connection kinda fizzled out by the end of the night, but I didn’t want to burst her bubble.

Tonight I’d go along with them, comfort them through the disappointment of him not being here (because what are the chances, honestly), and if he does show up I’d give him the awkward wave and move on and then they can cry about how anti-climactic this whole thing was. They’ll be sad for about ten minutes and then buy shots and promptly forget about any guys.

That was my plan for the night.

And for a while, everything went according to it. Coming down into the main hall of the club, all eyes (even mine, but I’d never admit it out loud) eagerly turned to the bar which the man was glued to the entire time, only to not see any sign of the ginger bombshell. My heart quivered in disappointment only a tiny bit, but I didn’t let them see, only gave them a look that screamed ‘I told you so’ and moved on.

During the first few rounds I scolded myself for actually letting myself get swayed by their words and hoping for his presence against my better judgement, and quickly convinced my heart that it was for the better he didn’t show up.

For a few hours we danced and drank, and it almost seemed that everyone started forgetting the reason why they even pushed to come here, the whole experience slowly turning into a normal night out, when suddenly Yeri that was dancing next to me loudly gasped into my ear.

It alerted me to her, but before I could even turn to her, she started wildly slapping my shoulder until it hurt.

“Ow, ow! Stop!” I slapped her hand away, considerably gentler than she did to me, and scowled at her slightly irritated with the commotion.

“He’s actually here!” she screamed that in my face, but with the loud music pumping all around us she might as well been whispering. The statement took the wind out of the sails of my slight annoyance and I floundered, stuttering and staring at her wide-eyed.

When Yeri realised I was too shocked to look myself, she grabbed my shoulders and forcefully turned me in the direction of the bar. I almost wanted to close my eyes, not even wanting to believe he actually did come to the club two weeks later and now I was facing the real chance of a terrible let-down, but at the same time I yearned to catch another glimpse of the ginger demon that swung my world upside down in literal seconds.

Tonight he was wearing a plain black hoodie and wider jeans with a single cut on both of his knees, showing off some pale skin that glistened under the flashing lights. He sat in the same spot, which meant currently his back was turned to us and he was none-the-wiser to our presence. He was locked into a long conversation with one of the guys manning the bar. They seemed pretty friendly, which spoke of the fact that he was most probably a frequent visitor.

I felt my palms getting clammy as I suddenly sweated for a very different reason than before. Yeri was excitedly shouting and gesturing at the rest of the group, and I saw some of their very crude and very dirty gestures back, before I turned back to the bar blushing and embarrassed.

Before I knew it, Yeri was fighting our way through the crowd towards the bar and I twisted a little in her hold, panicking and ashamed.

“Yeri, wait! God, please wait!” I pleaded with her, and something in my voice must have been truly desperate because she actually listened to me. With troubled eyes she gave me a once over, clocked in the shaky eyes and unsure knees, and then changed the direction towards the hall with toilets.

It was relatively calmer there, the bass still booming through the walls and the echo of the song playing reaching our ears, but we could actually speak in a semblance of privacy where usually no one lingered for too long.

“What’s wrong?” my best friend asked, and to her credit, she was truly worried, but I couldn’t believe she didn’t understand. I threw my hands out and looked at her incredulously.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?” I asked her, exasperated, “What don’t you understand about the fact that I maybe don’t want to talk to him again?!” My voice raised a little, and I did feel bad about it, but the whole situation put me too much on edge to apologise immediately.

Yeri didn’t seem to be too offended, instead she just watched me with her steady all-knowing eyes, and it felt like they saw all the way inside my insecure little soul. My face crumbled under the power of that, and I knew she’d have me spilling everything to her anyway by the end of this conversation.

“Y/N, you literally have nothing to worry about,” her guess was correct, just as I feared, and I avoided her softened loving gaze, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, and I know you know that, and I know you think you’re too awkward… But you had that man literally drooling all over himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you until the moment you walked out of that bar. He wants you, a lot.”

“I know that we kind of stared at each other, but I don’t know…” I told her and I hated how weak and vulnerable my voice turned as I spilled out my insecurities to her, “the novelty kind of wore off, didn’t it? Now I’m just an awkward girl stuttering under the gaze of the hottest guy I’ve ever fucking seen. I could barely get a word out when he looked at me.” That had my friend smirking up a storm and I narrowed my eyes at her, already knowing she was about to annoy the shit out of me.

“Yeah, and as someone who watched your entire interaction, he fucking loved it,” she said firmly, a teasing lilt to her words, “Please, trust me. Do you trust me?” Of course I fucking trusted her, so I petulantly nodded, even though I was grumbling to myself that it had nothing to do with that.

“Do you trust that I have a set of functioning eyes?” she teased some more, grinning at me mischievously as she poked me in my ribs with her fingers. Even as I tried to stay upset, the laugh was punched out of me completely involuntarily and I found myself slowly relaxing. When I nodded, her grin turned all happy and toothy.

“Then trust me when I say that the moment you walk up to him, he’ll be over the fucking moon,” her voice was soft and loving, and it almost made me a little mushy, “and trust me when I say that tonight he’ll definitely not let you walk away from him.” She winked as she said that and I laughed at her, pushing her a little teasingly.

I did feel lighter and less stressed. I felt like I could actually go and talk to him again, and I smiled at my best friend, knowing she just wanted the best for me and was always on my side.

“And if he turns out to be a dick, then you’ll come back and I’ll buy us a drink and we’ll curse him out,” she added cheekily, already stepping away from me to head back onto the dancefloor. That made me laugh, because… as if I didn’t say that before.

Rejuvenated and slightly more confident, I turned from Yeri and headed in the opposite direction she went in – straight to the bar. The guy was still sitting there, still turned away from me, but now he seemed to be back to not really engaging with anyone, not even the friendly smiling barman that was currently serving drinks to someone while laughing with his coworker… until he wasn’t.

In an inopportune moment his head turned just right for me to graze the corner of his eye and then he was full on swinging around to do a double take, startling the poor guy he worked with. Suddenly there were two sets of eyes trained on me and I froze, blushing under their gazes as the recognition set in and teasing smirks played on both of their faces.

The dark-haired one then went to wave his hand, but immediately I realised it wasn’t to greet me but to alert the ginger who was kind of just staring off into nowhere. To keep the element of surprise, I lunged into movement, basically jumping the last few steps and crashing into the bar in a terrible déjà vu, trying to look elegant and sexy even as I winced lightly at the impact.

My back was now turned to the two little shits behind the bar, and I could only imagine the expression on their faces, but I was too preoccupied with the wide-eyed stare from the man of the hour himself.

This time he shook off the surprise way quicker, relaxing almost immediately as he realised who I was, a truly smug smirk splitting his face. His gaze was unabashedly travelling all over me, taking in every detail, and I was suddenly reminded of how intense it was to be in the centre of his attention.

“Well, well, look who it is,” he drawled out, but it was more amused than anything and I slowly started letting go of the fear that he was incredibly mad at me for our last meeting, “what, looking for another free drink?”

I flushed with embarrassment, avoiding his eyes as much as possible, which wasn’t that much of a great idea when that brought me to staring at his hands. His cursed, beautiful hands that never strayed too far from my dreams even as I tried to forget about the man.

They started flexing, stretching across the expanse of the thick glass and showcasing their strength, and I realised I was caught. Not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my plight, I turned my gaze somewhere slightly above his shoulder, fixating on a pillar or something that stood directly behind.

“Sorry about that, it was a stupid game,” I stuttered out, trying to ignore his insistent attempts to move his head to where my eyes were trained at, “It was quite rude of me.” He chuckled and I could basically feel the entertainment seeping off of him in waves.

“Don’t worry about it princess,” the velvety purr was back and the ginger clearly decided that if I wasn’t going to look at him, he’ll just try every dirty trick in the book. He leaned into me, lips easily finding the shell of my ear as his hand weightily clasped over the exposed skin of my thigh.

“There’s a very easy way for you to make it up to me,” he whispered languidly, caressing over me with his sweet words, “this time when I buy you a drink, don’t run off, as easy as that.” I was so embarrassed by my previous actions I found it hard to actually answer, so I just cleared my throat and hummed low in my throat in agreement.

He seemed satisfied with that, hand moving from my leg to possessively squeeze at my waist as if he was insuring I really wouldn’t leave as soon as I got my drink, and I did have to laugh at that. His narrowed eyes hit me as soon as he heard my giggles, the teasing reprimand in them spoke volumes, but he stayed silent, hand waving for the barman while his eyes never left mine.

“What’s up,” came the low baritone of the guy as he came closer to us. I could clearly hear the amusement in his voice, but the informal address also didn’t escape me, and I started wondering who this guy actually was. This time I would at least leave the bar knowing his name, if nothing else.

Tuning out while he was ordering, I was just about to ask for his name, when the teasing voice of the younger guy registered back into my brain.

“And would that be on the bar, Yoongi-hyung?” it was some kind of a joke, judging by (apparently) Yoongi’s scoff even as he clearly wasn’t mad or annoyed, and he shot back with: “Stop asking stupid questions, Tae.” It was all jokes and games, the two men laughing and smiling at each other, when I froze in his hold.

Wait a minute. On the bar. Yoongi. Hyung. A memory rushed to the forefront of my mind – Hana excitedly rattling off about a club she wanted to go to, that she heard about because apparently the word on the streets was the owners were super hot. Saturday, two weeks ago, as she dragged us off into this club. A club owned by some guy called Min Yoongi and his friend Jung Hoseok.

The very same guy that was currently watching me go through this whole rollercoaster of realisations with an amused grin on his face, hand still securely curled around my waist and pushing me into the bar.

Jesus fucking christ.

I wasn’t actually sure whether I paled or blushed, but something crazy was happening with my face as I opened and closed my mouth like a beached fish fighting for its life, finger slowly lifting and wordlessly pointing towards the ginger man.

Yoongi finally couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst out laughing, the pure joy on his face making him look even more impossibly handsome with his cute smile and eyes closed in glee, but then he was suddenly fixing me with another one of his cocksure smirks and leaning closer.

“Oh kitten,” he purred, and his excitement was suddenly palpable between us, his whole body trying to curl around me eagerly, “don’t tell me you didn’t even know whose hands you wanted to choke you so bad?” My breath got stuck in my throat fighting to stutter out, and then I was just all pliable and melting right in his arms. That’s all it took, and it was absolutely pathetic on my part, but I couldn’t really bring myself to feel ashamed about it, especially not when Yoongi was pulling me closer, off the bar stool and nearly wedging me between himself and the wooden bar.

“Come on, princess, where’s my cocky little tease telling me the naughtiest things and then walking away with a huge fucking grin on her face?” the man teased me, so close that his hot breath was hitting the crook of my neck as I shivered and trembled under him, “You’re being such a good girl right now, I’m beginning to think this might be another one of your ploys.”

At his words, a surge of confidence hit me, reinforced by the clear lust that was dripping off of his voice, off of his aura. Suddenly I was back to the night two weeks ago, preening under his starving eyes, each moment between us packed with so much unreleased sexual tension it might have set the whole club on fire.

While Yoongi tentatively nosed under my ear, testing the waters afraid he’d push me away by being too much too fast, I sneaked my arm up his back aiming to give him exactly what he wanted.

Snaking my hand into his hair, I heard his little sigh, body pulling into me a little further as he took it as an encouragement to continue. Just as his lips lightly kissed at my neck, the slightest sweetest hint of tongue tasting the salty sweat, I grabbed a handful of the ginger locks and pulled, dragging his face away from me.

The moment our eyes met, it was like an electric current went off between us, his pupils dilated and darkened, consumed with desire, and mine couldn’t have looked much different. There was slight annoyance at my action written on his pretty face, but the grin was as amused as ever, pleased, even, that I dared to go against him.

My tongue slipped through my smirking lips very briefly, just teasing the man with little extra disobedience, and it worked to pull his attention, gaze trained on my blood red lips.

“There she is,” he whispered that almost reverently, the unfiltered joy running through him on a shiver, and I saw the exact moment he lost the battle to his instincts and surged to claim my mouth in a searing kiss.

Only… he never got there. Yoongi abruptly stopped midway, eyes jumping somewhere behind my shoulder, and I almost whined out loud, so desperate for his attention after I had it for a few brief moments.

But then his grin turned nasty, just downright filthy, and a shiver of arousal plundered through me. Before I knew what was happening, brain already muddled by this guy almost beyond recognition, he was spinning me in his hold. My back hit his chest, his hand splaying over my stomach in the process, and I was greeted with a delicious sight.

There was a man sitting in the chair that I was previously occupying before Yoongi pulled me off to himself, he was leaning his head on his hand that was propped up on the bar, watching us with an amused smirk and hungry eyes. I flushed under his gaze, and also from realising that he’d been watching us, but with the slightest curl of shame in my stomach I found that I really didn’t mind at all.

This guy was insanely attractive as well, he had dark hair slicked back and swept off of his forehead and an expanse of skin on show. He was also dressed in all black, but a very different vibe – dress pants that hugged his waist and hips nicely, accentuating his slim form, a silken blouse that was open all the way to his fucking belly button, but somehow it still looked extremely stylish and tasteful, covering just enough while giving you a taste of exquisite miles of honey-toned skin. He topped it off with a black suit jacket that fell past his hips and hung off of him nicely. For some reason he was also wearing his sunglasses, even here inside the club.

Looking at him made me feel like a horny nun in a sex shop. I swear to god I started sweating under his obviously interested eyes that peered over the rim of those black glasses and lingered on Yoongi’s possessive hold around my waist.

His hand swiftly tugged the sunglasses off and when he looked at my face again, there was a bright friendly smile on his, but something sharper and darker lurked beneath it, sending shivers down my spine in anticipation.

“Having a fun night, hyung?” he asked, voice happy and teasing, a laugh spilling out of him effortlessly like it was natural for him to do that with every word. Behind me there was a slight rumble as well, and I could only guess what kind of expression graced the ginger man’s face, but something hungry reflected in the newcomer at seeing it.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi said in greeting and I jerked, recognising that name immediately. Amusement pulsed in the air, making me feel like I suddenly got caught between two starving wolves, while I just stood there wide-eyed and blushing. “You wouldn’t believe who returned to me tonight,” the older man continued, and I could hear the shit-eating grin in his intonation.

The hand that wasn’t currently lightly caressing the exposed sliver of skin between my crop and my skirt lifted from its place on the bar and laid gently on my neck, hold just strong enough to feel its weight there and fix me in place, but not to actually grasp. My heart stammered a few times in my chest, a needy noise getting stuck in my throat and tampering off into a little whiny exhale. My face was burning, but the interest of the two men seemed to skyrocket at the sound.

“Oh!” the exclamation out of Hoseok’s mouth was full of unbridled thrill and he leaned closer as well, recognising the gesture as something to do specifically with me in a way that sent shame and excitement through me, “Look who it is, our very own Cinderella!” Now when his gaze swept over me, there was a slight glaze over it, like he was putting the body to the tale he must have heard from Yoongi himself.

“So this is she,” the dark-haired man said finally when his eyes feasted enough, sparkles reflecting in them as he stared me down before he offered me his hand. Kind of dumbfounded I reached for it on instinct, making me even more aware of Yoongi’s hands coiled all around my body.

Hoseok quickly grabbed it as soon as it got within his reach, but instead of a handshake he pulled my hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the top, eyes sending me cheeky glances as I blushed under the ministration.

“Nice to meet you, Cinderella, my name is Hoseok,” he stated sensually, the fire that was steadily burning right under his surface momentarily showing, and then he pulled back all sunshiney and smiley again, like he wasn’t staring me down like a predator just a second ago.

“Oh, that’s right,” Yoongi suddenly mumbled, and I shamefully realised I was so pulled into Hoseok’s aura I forgot about the presence glued to my back, “What is your name, princess?” The dark-haired man in front of me suddenly gasped loudly, jokingly slapping his friend’s shoulder in reprimand.

“Hyung, you haven’t asked her till now?” he whined loudly, draping himself over the counter a little bit and making himself comfortable leaning his head on his hand again, “How incredibly rude of you. You were about to stick your tongue down her throat without even introducing yourself.” I flushed at the reminder of what got interrupted by Hoseok’s arrival, quickly averting my eyes and staring at the floor shyly.

There were few chuckles all around, and then the hands released me. I stumbled a little, not expecting to lose my tether and allowing my legs to grow weak knowing I was being held up, but thankfully Hoseok seemed to have quite quick reflexes, and his hand shot out to grab my hip, righting me on my feet. I mumbled my thanks and leaned on the bar casually like I was just waiting for my drink, trying to ignore the mounting sexual tension between the three of us.

Quickly clearing my throat, I hoped to dispel the slight awkwardness that suddenly overtook me, drumming my fingers on the bar. Suddenly realising that the drink Yoongi ordered for me stood completely forgotten and melting there, I reached for it and started downing it while I felt their amused but still ravenous eyes on my figure.

“I know, Hobi-ya, I’ve been such a bad host,” Yoongi purred out, fingers playing with the glass with what I assumed was whiskey. Since every time my gaze got stuck on his perfect hands his ego seemed to grow even more (which I thought to be impossible, but Yoongi proved to be an impossible man, so it checked out), I tried to avoid the sight, but my eyes still got dragged down every once in a while, lured in by the massive rings flashing under the lights and the pretty veins flexing with every movement.

There was some rapport between them, shooting one clever dirty remark after another, but I sort of tuned them out for a moment, getting lost in the world of possibilities that opened before me quite abruptly. I try to win a bet and end up getting chatted up by not one, but two owners of the very club. I almost wanted to run off just to whisper this to Yeri and giggle about it with Hana, some slight snickers escaping my mouth at the image of her wide-open mouth at finding out who these guys were.

“What are you laughing at, Cinderella?” a voice right next to my ear tears me out of my musings, and I immediately shuddered, feeling the hot puff of air of his breath hitting the tender skin of my neck. Hoseok was grinning at me wickedly when I turned to him, so close I could count all of his perfect pretty lashes.

Belatedly I realised I never actually introduced myself, the conversation getting derailed immediately and I got so flustered I forgot he even asked, so I cleared my throat and said: “My name’s Y/N.” It came out a little scratchy still, emphasizing how deliciously nervous they made me, which in turn served to excite them even more – I could see it in their dark expectant eyes.

Then I smirked, regaining a little bit of sense now that I wasn’t helplessly caught in Yoongi’s sweet net. “And that’s none of your business,” I added, barely supressing the desire to stick out my tongue at him. I’d keep that one in the arsenal, I was sure I’d get many a chance to be bratty at him until the morning.

Hoseok hummed, a spark running through him at the tiniest bit of attitude, but then he smirked back.

“I see what you mean, hyung, you do have to push her a little to get to that fire,” the dark-haired man said almost too conversationally, like they were discussing their favourite drinks. His head tilted as he regarded me and I felt almost undressed under the weight of that stare. Looking at him, he was clearly already thinking of how he’d like to push me to get the reactions he wanted, so I chose to ignore him even as heat threatened to overtake my face.

Instead I narrowed my eyes at Yoongi, who was trying to look as innocent as possible but he couldn’t hide the devilish spark about him, his smile a little too sharp to get away with anything.

“What exactly have you been telling him?” my voice tilted in faux anger, but there was a grin tugging at my lips even as I was attempting to fix him with my stare. Needless to say, he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

Leaning forward, until our noses were almost brushing and our breaths mingled, and I felt my knees getting a little weak again, he grinned. “Nothing but the truth.” We were locked in what I’d call an eye-fucking staring contest, but neither of us wanted to back down. As I started to feel a little more comfortable in their presence, I quickly found my spine again, and they clearly liked when I sassed them a little. So I let go and slipped into my usual stance.

“Well, I originally came here to talk shop, but this is much more interesting,” came Hoseok’s voice from our right, and we both looked over at the same time. He was watching us with an obvious smile, but not the ones like before, no. This one made me shiver (as if they haven’t been doing that for the entire night).

I quickly spun around, leaning on the bar with my back instead of my front, and looked seemingly carelessly into the crowd, partly trying to annoy them a little and partly actually searching for Yeri to make sure she knew I was okay.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s clearly nothing happening,” I sing-songed slyly, making sure I put a little distance between all of us. Yoongi, who was clearly the one more experienced with me bolting, was shifting around on his stool, and for the first time that evening I realised how much they both towered over me even with my heels, even when they both sat and I was standing. It was exhilarating, like getting slowly sweetly hunted.

I made eye contact with my best friend exactly the second two hands from two different directions wrapped around me and fixed me to place, Hoseok’s elegant hand squeezing at my waist while Yoongi’s bejewelled one made itself home in the crook of my neck, as close to grabbing me by the throat as he could get away with in the middle of a crowded club.

I stuttered out a gasp, my thoughts screeching to a halt and Yoongi took the chance to dip down to my ear and whisper: “You’re not running away from us that easily, pretty girl.” I couldn’t help the little smirk, thinking back to Yeri’s words promising me that if I went to speak to him, he wouldn’t let me go again. Oh how right she was, and she’d be super annoying about it later, but right now I was so glad she convinced me to go I’d accept all the teasing later.

Yeri was watching the interaction with sharp eyes, face a little worried at the sudden appearance of a second man. She raised her hand in the universal ‘ok’ gesture, a question written into her features. I quickly nodded, not wanting to leave her hanging, and then turned to Yoongi and staring right into his eyes.

“If I knew you were this desperate for me, I’d have given you a few more crumbs last time,” I teased him shamelessly, too satisfied with myself for Yoongi’s liking. He growled lightly, the rumble rising through his chest and throat and vibrating on my shoulder. The ginger ducked his head back into my neck and then there was a quick warning nip to the soft skin, which had me gasping breathlessly, thrumming in their arms.

Hoseok was quietly laughing to my right, free hand amusing itself by playing with my dark curled hair while he amusedly watched his hyung getting provoked like that.

With blown out pupils and wild heart jumping around in my chest I turned again to find Yeri’s eyes once more. She was glancing our way occasionally, and by now the other girls noticed as well, all hooting and hollering and gesturing at me happily. I grinned back, and then pulled out my phone from my little bag and tapped it so everyone saw. It was our gesture to have them check their messages.

With that I slowly pulled myself from their hands, and as possessively as they both clutched at me, once I actually showed the intent to leave, they both let go easily, leaning back in their chairs. I could see the moment of nervousness in Yoongi’s eyes, probably afraid he’d taken it too far with the bite, but I smirked at both of them, trying to ease them a little.

“Gentlemen, I need to use the restroom,” I announced heartily, thrusting my bag into Hoseok’s hands, “I trust this will be safe with you.” With a little wink, clutching my phone in hand, I turned on my heel and happily bounced through the throngs of people towards the quiet hallway.

Once there, I quickly pulled up the group chat, not being able to keep this all to myself anymore.

Petty bitch: you won’t fucking believe me what I found out

The slew of messages was immediate, some begging for the tea and some berating me for texting them when I had two very hot men to make out with.

Pink nightmare: istfg if you don’t tell me now

Petty bitch: calm down lol, i’m not gonna leave you hanging

Petty bitch: you know who these guys are?

Petty bitch: min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: ARE YOU FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW??????

Dressed to distress: Y/N YOU BETTER NOT BE PULLING YM BALLS RIHGT NOW

Dressed to distress: istfg you better go there and fuck them until they can’t walk or i’ll never speak to you again

Pink nightmare: i think Hana almost passed out when she read that

Dressed to distress: shut up it’s big news

Dressed to distress: it’s THE min yoongi and jung hoseok

Dressed to distress: FUCK THEM. N O W.

I was laughing at the endless barrage of messages, Hana and Yeri taking over the group chat with their combined freaking out and subtle threats to end our friendship if I leave again. The smile on my face was fixed permanent at that point, and the warmth spread through me quickly knowing I had such support out there, even though it was about getting fucked senseless.

Petty bitch: aye aye captain, will do sir

Dressed to distress: you better

Petty bitch: you were right tho yeri, about what you said before

Pink nightmare: i know ;)

With one last smile at the screen, I locked the device again and made my way back to the bar, where the two man conversed leisurely. A third chair was pulled between them, waiting and empty, and Hoseok was still securely clutching onto the little red handbag. I supposed that was the only reason they were being so chill, though I wouldn’t understand anyone that would be able to walk away from them for the second time.

Confidently walking over, I went straight for the empty stool and sat down without glancing at either of the men, instead gesturing at the smiley barman, Tae if I remembered correctly. He waved at me and without saying anything he started preparing my drink.

Well, there was a certain advantage to being the girl that his bosses were about to fuck.

Said men didn’t waste a second and immediately engulfed me in their warmth, flanking both my sides, hands wandering around the small of my back or the exposed skin of my thighs (that one was definitely Yoongi, judging by the cooling feeling of heavy jewellery dragging across the heated skin that made me shiver more than I was prepared to admit).

A small talk started up between us, talking about mostly nothing or inconsequential things, about what we did that day or whether I also got mad at the latest change in bus schedule (Hoseok got weirdly passionate about that, considering he most definitely either drove a high-end car or even had a chauffeur).

But it was increasingly more difficult to pay attention to a single thing that was said when their hands slowly but surely strayed more and got bolder and bolder, with Hoseok’s sliding up, up, under my little top, until his thumb was sliding across the line of my bra, while Yoongi had managed to slowly inch his way almost all the way under my skirt. He was so close to accidentally brushing against the edge of my panties, and it was driving me insane.

I was endlessly squirming in my seat, legs constantly fighting to either fall further open or squeeze under the rush of sensations, either giving the smug man more opportunities to caress my inner thigh or just trapping his hand there.

And as if sensing what Yoongi was doing, and how he kept me on edge, Hoseok begun inching his head closer, leaning in until I felt every word he said on the skin of my naked shoulder, until his soft lips were brushing against me with every laugh and murmur, sometimes even giving up the pretence of polite conversation and just openly kissing his way around my crop when he wasn’t talking.

It took me entirely too long to realise they were just winding me up on purpose, finding new stupid stuff to bring up just to prolong the sweet torture.

I snapped sometimes in the middle of a heated debate over soap dispensers in public bathrooms, just as Yoongi was detailing his thought process over choosing the ones they had in their restrooms.

“Are you planning to finger me right here on the bar?” I jumped into his spiel, the frustration bleeding into my voice, “Or are we going to talk about soap until morning?” Yoongi immediately shut up, amused grin playing on his lips and his hand flexing on my thigh at the mention of fingering. Hoseok also froze where he was in the middle of gently mouthing at the back of my neck, and I felt his lips pull into a smirk.

Tae that was just passing by looked horrified though and started protesting basically as soon as I was done with my little outburst.

Before I knew what was happening, both men were on their feet and pulling me along, each one hand in their grasp. There was a quick understanding between them, and they both started off in the same direction.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hoseok purred, overcome by the excitement, “No matter how hot fingering you at the bar would be, let’s reserve that for when the club’s closed.” The promise of future endeavours worked like a charm on me, and I quickly melted into their embrace, speeding up to keep up with their rushed steps.

Turns out, they were going towards a dark door, coloured just well enough to blend into the walls. Yoongi impatiently started unlocking it, almost barging into it once the key finally turned. It opened to a narrow little barren hallway that ended in stairs going up.

The three of us couldn’t fit there side by side, so I ended up with Hoseok’s arm around my shoulders with Yoongi going ahead, taking the stairs by two. Up there was a little space and a singular door, which finally led into what must have been their office space.

It was a nice room, a little dark, there was only a single small window and it was currently night outside, but it was decorated nicely, giving it a modern yet cozy feel. There was a dark wood desk in one corner, with a massive chair behind it, and a nice little conference table with a comfortable sofa in the other.

Hoseok led us straight towards there, but just as I wanted to move to sit on the nice dark blue furnishing, I was pulled down by the man and we both tumbled onto the soft carpet instead. He cleverly manoeuvred me so that once down, I ended up almost in his lap, and his arm coiled around my waist quickly to keep me pressed up against him.

I’d have laughed at his cheekiness, I would have, but then his face was buried in my neck and finally kissing in earnest, and all that came out of me was a pleased sigh. There was clinking coming from somewhere behind us, but I ignored it in favour of running my hand up Hoseok’s back until it was tangled into his styled hair. He released a few pleasured chuffs and then he was pulling back.

I whined, I couldn’t help myself, and I wasn’t even particularly ashamed of it once I saw his teasing smile. The dark-haired man amused himself by pressing in closer, our lips only a breath away, and then jerking from me when I tried to close the distance, laughing in earnest at my frustration.

His hands kneaded my hips, similarly pulling me close enough but then keeping me in place when I tried to shuffle closer, until I had enough. I was so turned on, not only from the teasing from before, worked up from their gentle touches on the bar, but also from being so close to finally having what I wanted only to be entertainment for him. So fine, if he wanted to play, let’s play.

Using the hand in his hair, I tugged at it a little harsher than before, enough to jerk Hoseok’s head back as he wasn’t expecting it. A little hiss of pain escaped his lips, but even as I quickly descended on him I saw the swirl of arousal in his eyes. Using the moment of surprise, I finally crashed our lips together and barrelled into him, not giving him a chance to stop me when I finally climbed atop his lap properly and made myself home there.

He took it all in stride, giving me what I wanted, happily so if his overjoyed little noises were anything to go by. I didn’t give him a chance to tease more by controlling the pace of the kiss, instead I kissed him filthily from the beginning, going in hard.

Hoseok matched my pace easily, accepting all of my desire and doubling it with his own, wasting no time in licking into my mouth, pushing his tongue in and claiming me thoroughly. We battled for dominance briefly, our tongues messily pushing against each other, the kiss descending into heated wet chaos, but it was mind-meltingly good and I couldn’t stop the outpouring of moans that the man eagerly swallowed and answered with his own.

When we finally separated for air, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I’ve been rocking against him as his hands firmly gripped at my waist, supporting the flow of my movements.

We breathed heavily into each other, my brain already muddled and its only goal turning to getting railed into oblivion. Hoseok’s gaze was trained somewhere off to my left and I turned, being greeted by the sight of Yoongi leisurely sprawled over the sofa, whiskey glass hanging from his hand.

His eyes were beyond starving, fixed on us in a manner that excited me as much as it unnerved me, but then Hoseok was chuckling into my ear and whispering “hyung must like the show” and my head was spinning with the force of lust that surged through me.

This time when I lunged for another kiss, the man was already expecting me, accepting me. Hoseok was full of eager noises, sighs and moans and groans, all escaping into my hungry mouth and sounding through the room alongside the wet smacking of our lips. And I wasn’t far behind, the quiet moans spilling out freely as my hips jerked over the man, this time very much with purpose.

There was a bulge increasingly hardening right beneath my soaked centre, and every time I rubbed against it there was a hitch in both of our staggered breathing. My skirt has long since ridden all the way up, pretty much exposing my panties to Yoongi’s eager eyes as he watched me hump his friend.

Our mouths fell apart for breath, but Hoseok immediately trailed wet scorching kisses down my jaw and neck, licking into the skin there. At first I didn’t even realise when the scales of power started tipping the other way, not until I was suddenly pulled up and slammed down on the little table, splayed on my back and with a very horny man attached to me and pushing me into the sturdy wood.

My head was spinning and I could barely see through the haze, the fog filling my mind with every swipe of Hoseok’s talented tongue, and when I bumped into something I didn’t even care that much. Not until the dark-haired man bit down hard at the junction of my neck and I threw my head back with a debauched scream, body seizing and arms flying back in an attempt to grasp onto something.

Soft jean material was suddenly between my fingers, and I started slowly noting that there was a bony leg underneath it.

Hoseok’s hips relentlessly pushed into mine, jerking into me and letting me feel every inch of his now erect cock, still confined to his silken pants.

“Going to ruin your expensive slacks, pretty boy,” I gasped out with a laugh and the man scoffed into the skin in the crook of my neck. His hips slowed down to a drawled-out grind, torturing me with delicious drag of the prominent bulge through the thin material of my panties.

I felt his big strong hand splayed out on the meat of my thigh, holding my leg curled around his hips and pinning me into place.

“I’m not a teenager anymore, angel, I can hold my own,” he purred between licks and kisses, enjoying the slowed down pleasure as it made me squirm in impatience, since the turn in pace was quite sudden.

“Oh yeah? You’re already a big boy?” I teased right back, little gasps and moans escaping me with every sharp nip to my neck. I was already breathless, writhing around on the table under a man who seemed to be gradually more and more cocksure as the seconds ticked by.

Hearing my words, he ground his hips into me with surprising force, shocking a moan out of me. “Can’t you feel for yourself?” he giggled into my ear, upping the tempo and force behind his thrusts until I was thrown around and had no idea where was up and down.

Brain overrun with pleasure, any kind of smart retort died in my throat under the sudden onslaught of pleasure coursing through me, only desperately holding onto Hoseok’s shoulders while he ravaged me. The little table pitifully squeaked under us, but it seemed it would hold even with how wild he was getting.

“Oh? No more witty remarks?” he now fully teased, enjoying this little game we had going, “Do you only behave when you’re fucked into oblivion?”

Before I could respond, Hoseok straightened out, hands migrating to hold down my hips as he jerked into me and laughed down at me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what sight I made – flushed, with messy hair and red lipstick smeared around my lips. His eyes drank me up hungrily, mouth open and tongue licking his lips like I was the most delicious dessert. There was a tinge of red on them from mine too, and with his blown out eyes it painted such an erotic picture I felt myself clench around nothing.

A deep dark chuckle from behind me made me remember the fact that there actually was another person here with us, but I didn’t turn to look at him. Instead I channelled all my energy into smirking towards Hoseok.

He himself was far from collected, a tiny line of sweat breaking out at his hairline and his cheeks were a healthy red colour, eyes hazy and dark. Sensing my rebellion, he smiled sweetly and waited for what I’d grace them with.

“And you think you have it in you to do that?” I gasped out cheekily, almost even winking at him, but instead I settled for letting my tongue peek out slightly and poking my upper lip with it, “A healthy confidence is sexy, but don’t oversell yourself, pretty boy.”

The moment Hoseok’s eyes darkened with slight aroused irritation, face pulling into a hard dominant mask, I knew I’d succeeded in pushing his buttons just right. I felt the hands holding me tighten, but his hips abruptly stilled.

A disbelieving chuckle came from Yoongi, who must have been comfortably sitting on the sofa behind us watching everything unfold. “Now you’ve done it, princess,” his deep raspy voice rumbled amusedly.

Anticipation set heavy into my bones, my whole body thrumming in excitement while I watched the tick in Hoseok’s jaw. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head, no doubt coming up with some way to punish me.

“Well, I think we have to teach our little guest some manners, don’t you hyung?” it was like a switch turned in him and there was no trace of the happy smiley man he was mere minutes ago, now only intense determination shined through his face as he began pulling away from me.

Yoongi hummed, then there was a sound of shifting and suddenly the man’s breaths were hitting my ear, the goosebumped skin of my neck shivering at his abrupt proximity. “I couldn’t agree more, Hob-ah,” the ginger whispered, but in the quiet office it was still perfectly audible.

The smirk that split Hoseok’s face was completely different from the one before and it frankly sent shivers down my spine in a somewhat jittery excitement.

Both men then stood up, leaving me alone on the table. Before I knew it, I was whining like a little abandoned pup, scrambling to get up as well, but a firm gesture to stay from Hoseok had me freezing in my spot, only a whimper escaping my mouth where I laid.

I watched them as they rummaged through a small closet, each pulling out something else. When they turned back to me, Yoongi was hiding something behind his back while Hoseok’s hand was wrapped around with some colourful piece of cloth. They made no move closer to me though, just stood there and watched me sprawled out on the little table.

I was squirming under their heated gazes, a little unsure and a lot desperate. I just wanted their hands on my body, their cocks stuffed in whatever hole they pleased, but I was so awfully alone there on that little table – that must have been illegal. Fighting the whimpers from trickling out of my mouth, I seeped in my embarrassment and lust, eyes begging them for anything.

“Look at her hyung,” Hoseok started, ever the more talkative one of the duo, “look how obedient and desperate she gets when we take the pleasure away from her.” The older man’s eyes glided over me for the thousandth time, hungry and burning, and I almost cowered from them on instinct.

“Not so mouthy now, are we princess?” he teased as well, in that voice of his that made me embarrassingly aroused.

Within moments Hoseok was back onto me, but now he just grabbed my waist and pressed me into the wood, arms and hips holding me from squirming but not touching me in any relief-inducing way.

I almost whined again when suddenly Yoongi’s hands entered my periphery from above, where he was situated back on the sofa behind me. While Hoseok held me still, the man grabbed both of my hands and started gently fastening a tie around the wrists, slowly enough to let me see what he was doing and loosely enough for me to protest anytime.

But the second I saw that happening, my breath hitch in excitement and I arched into Hoseok’s hands, the man quietly snickering to himself.

“This okay?” Yoongi’s voice was completely serious, devoid of any teasing from before. I nodded, but quickly remembered myself and before he could ask I rasped out a “yes!”. The answering smile washed over me along with a little murmur of “good girl” and I positively melted under them, hips desperately pushing down to find Hoseok’s.

“Are you familiar with the colour system?” the dark-haired man asked this time, eyes trained on his hyung carefully twisting and turning the tie to properly fasten a comfortable safe knot on it. I caught myself as I started nodding again, and instead croaked out another affirmative, pulling satisfied smiles out of them just as Yoongi lightly yanked on the binding and the knot shrank and tightened until it was snugly sitting on the skin of my wrists.

“Anything, and I mean anything, feels weird – don’t hesitate to let us know,” with last comforting murmur Yoongi moved back to sit onto the sofa – my nod must have been enough for him – and as he went my arms stretched backwards over my head. The ginger leisurely held onto the fabric like it was a leash, giving me slight room to move, but keeping his presence known.

Hoseok’s reassuring smile melted into a smug smirk and I held my breath in anticipation, ready to accept anything the man had in store for me. But instead of returning to me, he pulled back once more, the hands on my hips now almost bruising.

In a split of a second I found myself flipped over. My front hit the table with a big clank, almost sending the poor piece of furniture to the ground and knocking the wind out of me. Hoseok released a big breath, one hand pushing at the small of my back and keeping me pinned down, while the other started a slow journey up the outside of my thigh.

His teasing fingers at first only lightly grazed underneath the skirt, caressing the sensitive yearning skin before finally pushing the clothing out of the way, completely exposing my panties clad ass to the room. I shivered slightly, but the temperature was comfortable and I was only filled with overwhelming waves of lust and eagerness.

Hoseok’s hand gently caressed the skin for a moment, sometimes kneading and grabbing at the meat of my ass and lulling me into a false sense of security, before abruptly pulling back and landing a harsh slap on the right cheek. I gasped out a choked moan, whole body jerking forward with the force until my hips barrelled straight into the table. A loud bang of the table taking the hit combined with my noise of pleasure sounded through the room in a strange yet satisfying cacophony.

In this position I could clearly see Yoongi lounging back on the sofa watching us with dark eyes, hands flexing on the tie holding my bound wrists. His eyes jumped to mine the second his friend started administering the chosen punishment, something predatory swimming in them at my reaction. In that moment he felt more like a beast than a man, and one that wanted to eat me whole. The thought made me shudder, but in the best way possible.

I was quite sure that my own eyes must have been dazed and hazy with lust, as I could barely see through the film of pleasure blinding me, and Yoongi seemed to love that more than anything.

“Give her another, Hobi,” he encouraged the dark-haired man, and I realised he was probably monitoring whether I was okay as much as enjoying the view.

But all thoughts of anything flew right out of my mind the moment Hoseok’s hand descended onto me again, this time to the left side. The shock of pain ran through me like a zap of electricity, melting into pleasure as soon as it hit my bloodstream. The vision of Yoongi in front of me blurred as my eyes rolled back, a strangled moan releasing into the tensed air between us.

The next four spanks came quickly one right after the other, alternating between the cheeks and leaving behind stinging buzzing skin, more sensitive with every touch. I felt the burn there, and the ache of my hips continuously ramming into the wooden table also kept reminding me my position. But I didn’t care, too busy trying to dampen down my increasingly more high-pitch desperate groans and moans, before I embarrassed myself too much.

The wetness building up between my thighs was almost embarrassing, and I started to worry any moment I would start dripping down my legs just over a few spanks, and then Hoseok would never let me live it down.

Speaking of the devil, the man switched again to gently caressing the reddened tender area, humming lowly in his throat. I slumped onto the table, whining and whimpering at every soft swipe of his hand, every delicate pinch and handful he grabbed. Yoongi was smirking at me, but stayed silent, giving his friend all the space to do whatever he wanted.

“Look at you, being such a good girl now,” he purred slowly behind me, pushing his erection into my clothed core once more and teasing me with the hardened bump griding into me. The sudden realisation that I was wet enough for squelches to be heard with his tight thrusts hit me square in the chest and pushed another pathetic moan out of my throat. His hands once again pinned me down by my hips, making sure I wasn’t squirming underneath him and wouldn’t try to grind back at him, but I heard him groaning under his breath when he realised the same thing as well.

“All I had to do was spank you a little and put you in your place, and suddenly you’re all out of smart remarks,” Hoseok continued smugly (if a little breathlessly), hips smoothly riding me. I could hear his little sighs and half-moans with every thrust, obviously more desperate for relief than he was trying to let on.

I wanted to speak back to him, but my mind was blank, filled only with thoughts of his cock and his hands on me. Opening my mouth, only thing that was able to come out were strangled groans, and I worried I might start drooling soon too. And even if I did manage to speak, no doubt the only thing I’d be able to formulate would be pleas for Hoseok to stuff me full of his cock and fuck me dumb.

Yoongi was watching me with amusement, like I was pathetic, and the humiliation was burning through me and heightening everything I was already feeling.

“Aw, look at her hyung,” Hoseok continued, “can’t even speak now.” The older man hummed in satisfaction, tugging lightly on the tie and jostling me into paying more attention to the interaction. I put the last strains of brain power into talking back, the final try before I would be too lost and cock drunk.

“So pleased with yourselves, aren’t you boys,” the words came out of my mouth slightly slurred, but the cheeky lilt was still clearly detectable, and I chuckled tiredly, shimmying under Hoseok’s firm hands to try and get his cock closer to me.

To which the man swiftly reacted by pulling his hips away and instead bending over me. I felt the feather-light brushes of his shirt over the exposed parts of my back, but Hoseok never came any closer – not enough to feel his skin, only to have the feverish warmth of his body seep slowly into me from above.

“Be careful what you say, pretty,” his low voice warned me, the words delivered a touch too sensually to fully register in my mind, “that is, if you wanna get fucked tonight.”

“How many spanks did you get, princess?” Yoongi’s question came before my hazy brain could even fully process Hoseok’s warning, but I managed to choke out the answer, muddled mind going through the sharp delicious impacts to my skin.

Both men hummed, pleased that I kept track even without being told to. Hoseok finally lowered himself onto me, chest plastered to my back, skin pasted to skin by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Now, I was considering letting you off with six,” he murmured straight into my ear, “but it seems you do need the whole ten.” Then he was gone, only reminder of his presence was the sudden cold spot over me and the tingles running through my skin where we touched, and I shivered. My hips still pushed back needily, and he let me for a few moments, before his hand was back to caressing the throbbing red skin of my bottom.

The first spank was a fast one, delivering a more intense sting than the ones before. I gasped and braced myself, eagerly pushing my ass out and arching my back. Someone chuckled, and I had a hard time deciphering who, all my attention channelled into the two hands fondling the meat of my ass leisurely.

The press of his fingers into the burning flesh was something I swore I’d be able to remember 20 years from now, the sensation almost classifying as a life-changing event for my pathetic little brain as the anticipation of the next three spanks drove me crazy with need.

“She’s presenting nicely like a bitch in heat,” a deep voice whispered breathlessly, mockery and arousal mixing into his tone, “are we sure this is even a punishment for her?” In lieu of answer only a whiney moan left my mouth, hips shaking desperately and attempting to push back just as Hoseok delivered another sharp blow.

The last two were a little hazy for me – they came in a fast succession and immediately after the calming cooling caress of Hoseok’s hand returned, his voice soothing me with reassuring coos and purrs.

“What a good girl,” Yoongi whispered, tugging at the tie again to check on me. The praise poured over me, replenishing me body and soul like I was a thirsty traveller stumbling upon an oasis, and I slowly raised my head from the wood to blearily blink at the man. I was pretty sure there was a line of drool connecting me to the table, but I was too fried to care.

The ginger smiled at me, looking pleased more than anything, but still giving his younger friend free reign. Said man gave my bum a few more gentle pats before he helped me turn around on my back again, hooking my legs over his elbows to make it a little easier for me.

His face was flushed, a predatory grin spread over his face. I watched a drop of sweat slide down his neck and plunge down the perfect almost exposed chest, and while the man’s hair was all messy from our previous kissing, lips red from the lipstick I wore, his clothes were still firmly in place.

He was watching me with such overwhelming desire I almost melted right on the spot, the full force of my arousal making itself known in a single burst of fire. Suddenly the wetness in my panties became nigh unbearable, and my pussy fruitlessly clenched and oozed more juice in hopes of getting stuffed soon. And with Hoseok’s cock so close to my centre I was going even more mad with it.

“What do we think, baby? Have we learnt our lesson?” he asked me in a cheery voice, the taunting lilt provoking me and pushing my heated brain into overdrive to come up with a swift comeback. In the end I let the lust override the reason and blurted out what I really wanted.

“We think,” I started, my voice all breathless with a little rasp, “that maybe you should bury your pretty face in my cunt.” Immediately after those words tumbled out of me, a blush overtook my face in unexpected shyness. Even now I was still getting embarrassed – I’ve never bratted this much to anyone and I’ve certainly never said those exact words before – it was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Hoseok tsked at me and then looked to the older man while lightly shaking his head in faux disappointment.

“Oh dear, I think it’s only making her mouthier,” some darker breathier excitement crept into his voice, and it had me alerted in an instant, “what do we do, hyung?” The beastly smirk Yoongi gave in response felt like a bucket of ice water hitting me straight into my face, and I realised that they were planning something more from the beginning and I just played straight into their hands.

“I know these types, Hoseok-ah,” the ginger played along, but he was too excited to sell it properly, “and only one thing ever seems to work on them.” With that his hand reached somewhere down the sofa and grabbed a thin black flexible stick.

A whip. He had a whip.

My mind got transported back to before they spanked me, how Yoongi seemed to hide something behind his back. I got distracted real fast after that, but this must have been it.

I’d never used it before with anyone and as much as slight nervousness set into me, it was heavily overshadowed by the rush of exhilaration. With a single look at it I felt my body jerk in response, pussy clenching and singing in praise.

“Let’s see how bratty you are when you’re too busy crying from overstimulation, princess,” debauchery dripping off of him like pouring rain, pelting me right in my weakest points and leaving me gasping and breathless. I very much did want to see that.

A loud snapping of fingers had me whirling my head back to Hoseok who wore a serious expression, only getting emphasised by the obvious lust swirling in his blackened orbs.

“Colour, baby?” he rasped out, hands kneading the meat of my thighs slowly, in a hypnotising loop of thrills. I swallowed with some difficulty, getting steadily pulled into his intense gaze.

“G-green,” I stuttered out, buckling under the sudden aura these two were exuding, like I only now realised that I was in the presence of two domineering men. The slight hesitation before my answer was noticed as well, and while I was merely taking my time to know surely this is something I wanted, the men seemed to be worried by it.

“You sure?” Hoseok enquired again, mellowing out the rough touch into a gentle caress to make me more comfortable. I nodded, hurriedly and a tad too excitedly, drawing a chuckle from Yoongi still sitting behind me.

“Yes. Green,” I repeated, this time firmer and surer to chase away any doubts they could have. Yoongi’s hand started a slow path along the sensitive inside of my arm, his energy shifting into something more predatory and tangible, making sure I was aware of him.

“Have you ever played with a whip before, princess?” the ginger drawled out sensuously, amusement evident in his tone. I wanted to turn my head to look at him, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the way Hoseok’s face crumbled back into lust.

“No…” the word slipped out of my mouth in a whisper. It almost felt like both of them were holding their breath for something, something that was escaping me in my scrambled state.

“Are you excited to try?” came the next question, now feeling Yoongi lightly nose at my wrists, just shy of kissing there, making me shudder under the sensation. I just breathlessly nodded, not having the strength to actually find my voice. The ginger snickered and smacked a loud kiss to one of my wrists.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll go easy on you,” he whispered the promise and then pulled away again, gesturing at Hoseok to do what he wanted. The dark-haired man happily giggled and immediately grabbed my thighs, spreading them without much preamble.

I squeaked in surprise, hands jerking to go cover myself, but they got tugged back into Yoongi’s lap. Hoseok paid me no mind though, and didn’t waste time in putting his lips to the smooth skin near my ankle, showing off with loud wet kisses trailing quickly down.

As he was descending down my legs, his quick skilful hands found their way beneath my skirt (that was barely covering anything anyway) and started tugging at my panties, dragging them up my thighs to take them off. The wet spot spanned almost the entire seat of the panties and the size of it would be more embarrassing if I didn’t see the way Hoseok’s eyes rolled back at the sight, the excitement rushing through his body on a shudder. At the same time a veiny knuckley hand descended onto me from behind and tugged my crop up to release my tits from my bra.

Before I knew it Hoseok was bending over and had his face buried in my cunt while the handy little whip was teasingly circling one of my nipples. I barely managed to gasp out, drowning under sudden barrage of sensations and body growing confused under the different stimulations.

The dark-haired man started enthusiastically licking around my drenched folds, swiftly attaching himself to my clit and sucking with loud slurps, hands tightening on my thighs and keeping them thrown over his shoulders. The zap of pleasure hit me like a tank and I arched, mouth opening on a silent moan – and Yoongi, the bastard that he was, chose that exact moment to raise the whip and slap one of my nipples enough that it stung a little.

The desperate cry that left my mouth was almost unrecognisable from my voice, but it wasn’t a negative noise – quite the opposite, if the rush of slick that hit Hoseok’s hungry mouth still latched onto my pussy was anything to go by. The man groaned, debauched and dark eyes rolling back into his skull, before redoubling his efforts and wildly licking and sucking at the swollen lips and clit, slowly working his tongue around my hole and pushing in.

While my body tried to cope with the flood of liquid fire from Hoseok’s eager ministrations, my brain was continuously stuttering under the stinging sensation of Yoongi’s whip slapping my nipples in a seemingly whimsical manner. The man of course, once he caught wind of my obvious interest, didn’t hold back and used the little tool to alternatingly caress and lightly smack both of my breasts.

The dual stimulation made my brain melt quick, and soon I found myself to be a drooling moaning mess under the ministrations of two eager demons. I was teetering on the edge of cumming, the heat and pleasure accumulating in my lower belly until it was dangerously close to consuming me whole; and with every little suck on my clit and another hit from the whip I jerked a little closer to it snapping.

But it wouldn’t be them if they didn’t play with me a little, and every time Hoseok felt me nearing the edge he pulled off, roughly biting into the meat of my thighs to distract me with more delicious pain while watching his hyung distribute his own discipline on me.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he moaned helplessly into my skin finally, hand migrating to grab and fondle the bursting tent in his black slacks, groaning in relief immediately.

“Go ahead Hob-ah, have your fun,” Yoongi purred from the couch, the warmed leather of the whip now trying to soothe the sting with gentle caresses. The man didn’t even answer verbally, only let himself slump into me with a loud moan.

Once again he wasted no time, hands scurrying to undo his pants. He quickly shucked of his blouse, revealing the beautiful smooth muscled torso he hid beneath. I only had a moment to fully sink in the beauty of his arms stretching as he pulled his top off before his trousers were pushed down his hips. Sinking all the way to his knees, Hoseok paid them no more attention as he started hurriedly fisting his flushed red cock just begging for release.

Reminiscent of my reaction to getting spanked, I was unwittingly spreading my legs and arching off the table to offer up my pussy to him on a silver platter. The sinful smirk he gave in response made me even wetter (if that was possible), and I released a series of high needy moans.

“Look at our baby, all mute and docile now,” Hoseok teased, smirking up a smug storm, somehow regaining some semblance of a composure. I couldn’t find it in myself to reply, brain mush and hole wet and needy, so I just moaned again. It was so much easier to let myself ride the wave, to let all thoughts slip away and give myself over into their skilful hands – I felt no more need to sass back, I just wanted to cum. The two men giggled, and I heard a tearing of a foil packet, redirecting my dazed eyes towards Hoseok just to see him putting on a condom.

Anticipation ran through me, my horny mind recognising that I would be getting cock inside of me soon, needy cunt clenching and gushing desperately. Hoseok started pushing in practically immediately, impatient and wanting, and I was so wet and ready for him that he sunk in without a problem on the first stroke, pushing a helpless groan out of the man immediately.

I hadn’t even stopped moaning yet when Hoseok pulled back and thrust back in, overriding my senses with burning pleasure – it felt like my brain was buffering and short-circuiting under the never-ending overwhelming sensations. I finally felt so deliciously full, and it scratched something deep inside me, body catching up quickly and erupting into mindless ecstasy. After a few experimental strokes he set a speedy pace, desperately pumping his hips into me, jostling me on the table. If he wasn’t gripping onto my thighs so tightly, I’d probably find myself sliding up with the force of his lust, while the dark-haired man lost himself to my wet heat.

The moans spilled out of him freely, bronze sweaty body rippling with the movements and teasing some abs. When I managed to take control of myself and perceive anything through my own desperate staccato moans and gasps, I saw the man’s hazy gaze, unfocused eyes glazed over with ecstasy. It made my own lust mount immeasurably, building on my previous almost-there orgasm and throwing me headfirst into heady bliss. The scorching heat gathering deep in my core spilled over shocks of fire through my bloodstream, getting more intense with every stroke, with every time his tip bumped into the magic spot inside of me and made me shudder, so close to release I could almost taste it on my fucking tongue.

Tugging on my hands alerted me to Yoongi’s presence, the stagnant whip now moving again, teasingly making its way across my chest and tummy, here or there thumping down lightly to keep me on my toes. I heard his purred-out hums and rumbles at my eager reactions even through Hoseok’s groans and gasps, even through the wet slapping of skin on skin as he pumped into me wildly.

Just when I got used to the feeling of the leather travelling across my skin, Yoongi distributed four quick slaps, alternating between my nipples. The impact made me jerk in surprise before the delectable mix of pleasure and pain caught up to me and poured through my veins and nerves and I cried out on a moan. I felt my body spasm, cunt clenching and trapping Hoseok’s cock into the warm pulsating walls. A loud desperate moan cut through the room, the dark-haired man’s hips stuttered into me, and I felt his cock throb and twitch inside of me – and it drove me fucking insane with need, my hungry wet cunt attempting to suck him deeper and deeper in mindless lust that overrode all rhyme and reason.

His face spoke of inconceivable bliss, screwed into a grimace of a man on the brink of glory, red and sweaty with mouth hanging open, and breathing hard. He stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath, his cock lodged inside of me begging for release. For few long seconds we exchanged exhausted but content smiles before Yoongi became tired of being ignored.

His whip suddenly smacked my tummy, making me clench again and in succession torturing Hoseok further as he tried to stave off his oncoming orgasm. Our breaths hitched at the same time, our gazes trained to the little black tool slowly sliding down to my cunt. It seemed that both of us had an inkling as to what Yoongi was planning – considering Hoseok’s wink and winning smirk towards his older friend while I was filled with dark anticipation, gaze glued to the sight of it rising right above my mound and coming down almost in slow-motion.

The first smack to my clit almost made me cum on the spot, all the accumulated pleasure bursting in a blinding jolt making my body contort. Hoseok’s hips jumped forward, answering the endless squeezing of my cunt with breathless moans. I thought I heard Yoongi chuckle, but I wasn’t sure through the ringing in my ears.

And then everything disappeared, melted out of my head in a barrage of moans full of honeyed lust as he started slapping my clit, swiftly, in a way that made it sting but the outpouring of achey pleasure that made everything staticky and muffled was worth it thousand times. The continuous feeling of a nearing climax mounting in me was overwhelming me, sending my thighs into fits of tremors.

Hoseok started up his pace again – unable to deny himself any longer and fucking into me hard and quick, obviously chasing his high and helplessly losing to the tidal wave about to swallow him whole. As the stimulation of his cock drilling into me and barrelling into my g-spot returned, even through the fog in my mind I knew I was a goner. The wet squelch of my pussy seemed to intensify, signalling the oncoming beast of a climax too.

Yoongi also kept up his antics, periodically bringing the whip down straight onto my clit and making me jerk and cry pathetically under them (though Hoseok seemed pretty lost too). My hands were pulled over to his lap and in my plight I grabbed onto his thigh to gain at least some stable point. I felt his hand briefly squeeze mine in support, the tender touch calming my beating heart a bit. I screwed my eyes shut, head thrown back and body thrumming, just waiting for the final push.

But then Yoongi was back to his agenda, delivering few hard quick hits down onto my clit. My body tensed up, shaking and right on the brink of a powerful orgasm and head full of cotton and buzzing. Hoseok was also losing his mind, hips accelerating and balls drawing in tight, and I knew he was about to cum as well.

All it took was the sensation of Hoseok thrusting in hard a few more times before he burst, cock throbbing uncontrollably as he came with a piercing cacophony of high-pitched moans, and Yoongi smacking down one last time before my whole body locked, then everything exploded in me and I was suddenly cumming so hard I was surprised I didn’t simply burst into pieces. Distantly I was aware that I was screaming out, but everything was muted through the humming and ringing in my ears, eyes rolled back into my skull rendering me blind. I jerked with the waves of pleasure, warmth pumping into me from all directions and pushing me deeper into a dark fog, pulling me under the endless billows of scorching honeyed nectar spreading through me.

It rocked me whole, thighs and hips shaking while Hoseok desperately grasped at me going through the shockwaves as well, still unwittingly pumping into me to ride out the wave. The added sting of overstimulation prolonged everything and made it sharper, making my toes curl with the mind-numbing pleasure.

When the high started ebbing away, I felt drugged, or on the verge of blackout drunk – eyes barely able to keep open, unseeing through the film over them, face wet with drool and tears. I didn’t feel fully in my body, like I was floating above the table and saw the whole world through cotton candy.

Hoseok was saying something, but his words were slurred as well and I could barely hear anyway. He slumped over me, hips finally calm, and by the bonelessness of his form it could be judged that he went through similarly intense experience. I was suddenly hyper-aware of the amount of sweat that was pouring off of us, of our chests rising in tandem trying to catch our breaths and failing at it desperately.

There was some shuffling and then my arms were released, the tie binding them together gone – but they still immediately flopped down, no strength in them left. Someone pressed their face close to mine, ginger locks coming into my view but not fully connecting as I was still out of it, fighting off sleep.

But then Hoseok started moving, pulling away from me and out of my pussy, and I was jostled from the floaty space somewhere in between, slowly settling back into my bones and feeling the content ache still overriding all of my nerves.

The sound slowly came in and I realised that Yoongi was actually gently whispering praises into me, kissing softly along my neck and jawline while “such a good girl” and “took it so well” slipped out of his mouth on a murmur.

I moved my head just enough to see the dark-haired man collapse onto the carpet, half slumped into the leg of the sofa, grinning at me all doped out and still half naked with his pants undone. Yoongi quietly prowled over to the other side of the table, for the first time since we came here putting himself into my direct line of sight. And while his touch stayed respectful and soothing, his starving eyes ate up my messy wet swollen pussy like it was his last meal.

But then instead of touching me more he leaned over for some discarded clothing item, lightly dragging it down my thighs to clean up the juices that got all over me while Hoseok was fucking me. My eyes naturally slipped to the unmissable bulge tenting his black jeans (he must have taken off his hoodie somewhere during the session) and I couldn’t hold back the whine, brain still not quite capable of putting my thoughts together in a civilised manner.

In that moment it was simply unconceivable to me that he’d be left without release, and in a split moment I stubbornly made up my mind that I needed to make him cum, right there right that instant. But the man was cleaning me up, that was simply terrible!

Another whine, this time more desperate and forlorn, finally tore Yoongi from his chore and he gave me a soft smile, worriedly looking at me to ascertain what was wrong.

“What’s up, baby? What’s wrong?” he asked gently, and I whined again, frustrated with myself that it took me such an effort to put together a simple sentence, but finally I managed to sweat it out.

“Wanna make you cum,” I whimpered pathetically, and the man was split between smug smirks and kind smiles – obviously still horny out of his mind but thinking that he shouldn’t push me.

“You’re such a good girl angel, wanting to take care of me, but I can manage,” Yoongi tried to soften the rejection as much as possible, afraid I would take it badly while I was in a fragile state. But thankfully I was steadily regaining all of my abilities again, and I squirmed on the poor little table that went through all this with me.

“Green,” I stated firmly, looking him in the eye, still somewhat dazed but much more present, “Please fuck me too, Yoongi, please. Wanna feel you cum. Want you to use me as a toy.” The compassionate care-taking look immediately drained out of his eyes, and for the first time I was hit with the full force of his arousal. His dark blown-out pupils starvingly regarded me, hands now giving up on the cloth and instead slowly making their way to my stomach and waist.

“Well,” the ginger whispered sensually, “since you’re begging so nicely…” My cunt clenched at those words, slowly coming back alive and contracting almost painfully in such feral anticipation it left me breathless. The prospect of having him buried inside of me hilt-deep was enough to almost make me drool again, and I spread my legs more to him.

Yoongi’s gaze was trained on my chest though, hands reverently kneading the skin on their way up until he grasped my tits, letting out a staggered sigh. But as soon as he got there he flinched away, pulling himself away to fling his shirt off, hands excitedly tearing at his pants and getting them off as quickly as was humanly possible.

“I swear to god I normally put more care into foreplay, but I’m about to fucking explode,” Yoongi breathed out apological, snatching the condom Hoseok leaned over to give him and without wasting any time pulling it onto his throbbing red cock with a hiss of relief.

I only nodded, eyes too busy sliding over his naked torso and admiring his pretty tits and slim waist. He could probably stick it right in now and wouldn’t meet a shadow of resistance, my cunt was so nicely slicked up and fucked out, so ready and hungry for him it was basically begging to get railed.

Still the man leaned over me as he shuffled closer, putting himself firmly between my thighs and pressing his length into my slit while be busied himself licking and mouthing over my tits. His body was curled over me nicely, damp skin pressed into damp skin and driving the temperature even higher, making me feel small and safe under him, and my hands grabbed onto him, desperately whining and pulling him closer.

With a soft groan he finally folded and reached between us, grabbing himself and guiding his cock into my awaiting cunt – and I was right – I was so wet I swallowed him all up and he slid all in on the first try. He was thicker than Hoseok (even though not as long) and hit all the right spots on the way in. I released a pleased little sigh, basking in the feeling of being full again, but the man was in considerably worse shape.

Unlike Hoseok’s unabashed high moans, Yoongi was full of gruff drawn-out groans and gasps while his hips jumped on their own, starting up a slow grind to curb the edge of the surmounting pleasure.

“Fuck baby, this won’t last long at all,” the man giggled somewhat shyly, planting his face right into the crook of my neck to kiss there as he tried to prolong the experience for as long as possible. I released my own little breathless snicker, and that had Yoongi giving me a chastising look, raising an eyebrow at me in signal that he was still ready to put me in my place if I chose to brat out. I didn’t, only gave him a blissed-out smile and rolled my hips with a sigh.

Yoongi only hummed, and I almost expected him to start up some smartass monologuing, but then he was thrusting forward, hard and deep, and it knocked all thoughts out of my mind. The ginger man’s style was completely different from the fucking I received before him – he started up with a slow but rough pace, focusing on jerking into me forcefully and sliding as far as my body would allow instead on quickness.

While Hoseok’s fucking was a chaotic hot mess of quick-paced rough sex that left me breathless, Yoongi plastered himself to me and went unhurriedly but on every heavy thrust imprinted himself deeper and deeper into my core and fully overwhelmed my senses. The ringing in my ears started up again, and I was already overheating with the gooey ball of fire forming in my belly. I felt dizzy and hazy, my little moans and sighs getting cut off midway with the power behind Yoongi’s hips.

He played me masterfully, gradually speeding up, at first not fast enough to have me notice but to have my nerves overloaded with a mounting surge of pleasure. Then he ended it all. With a smirk that I would have found insufferable in any other circumstance (or if I was more present and not losing my mind on a cock) his hand lazily dragged up my tummy, up my chest, teasingly squeezing a tit on the way, before it settled on my neck. Game over town.

I froze, tensing underneath the man, and then I melted, stretching my head away and offering up my neck all he wanted with a whimper and a whine. And with a chuckle he used it all to his advantage, dear god that he did.

“Let’s go back to our roots, princess,” he whispered meanly straight into my ear, naughty lips brushing the shell of my ear while his hand tightened a touch, “isn’t this what you asked for those two weeks ago?” A barrage of moans spilled out of my slack mouth, my mind already burning with the anticipation of the tight hold of his beautiful strong hands.

Yoongi seemed to have pulled himself together a little for the purpose of teasing this out for a little longer, though both of us were already running full speed towards the finish line.

He straightened out, looming over me darkly with hungry eyes as his hand slowly tightened around my neck, lightly squeezing the sides to give me the rush of adrenaline. Any noise that would have barrelled out of my hoarse throat got cut off and I got light-headed fast, with all the sensations running through me with the flow of oxygen significantly lessened pushing me into an almost out of body experience.

The ginger man picked up his pace, delivering rough hard deep thrusts, eyes hazy and reflecting just how close he was to his own climax. I felt his dick throb and twitch as it rammed into my sweet spot, practically pushing both of us into the beginning stages of overstimulation because neither of us could hold on for much longer.

Hoseok still leisurely sat by us, leaning into the sofa and watching everything unfold half naked, underwear back on but pants still wide open and chest on full display. His eyes were darkened in interest, but he looked proper sated and only enjoying the show as a bystander. I noticed the dark-haired man’s eyes glued to the hand on my neck, eating up the desperate expression on my face and the flush spreading over me whole, like he was filing it all into his memory for a rainy day.

A quick slap to the side of my thigh brought my attention back to the man that was currently railing me into the next week, and he tsked at me with mocking mischievous eyes when he saw me flushing under him in embarrassment.

“Pay attention to me princess,” he hissed breathlessly, “you can ogle Hobi later.” That had his friend chuckling and he shuffled closer, settling in behind me. One of his hands slid softly into my hair only to grab roughly and pull my head back, adding the sting of pain to my already overloaded brain trying to keep up with the periodic tightening and loosening of Yoongi’s hand on my throat and the onslaught of pleasure from his cock. He kept my head in place as he leaned in close and started whispering sweetly into my ears.

All praises, good girl, doing so good, you’re perfect and more, all spilling from his beautiful lips like caramel candy and melting over me, sinking me deeper into staticky molases-like headspace.

“That’s right, what a good girl,” Yoongi reiterated, mumbling the praises with a heavy tongue, he himself slipping into the cosmic pull of the promised high, “take what you need, pretty girl, let go.”

And I did.

The build up of the orgasm creeped up on me – there was no monumental wave, no big crash, only slowly rising tide pulling me deeper and deeper without me realising how close I was to getting pulled under.

The constant stimuli of the Yoongi’s hips barrelling into mine, slapping into my clit and filling me so deliciously I wanted to scream and growl, my body wanted to twist under the pleasure but he kept me in place, not giving me any other choice but to lie still and take the endless cycle of lust and ecstasy, his hand squeezing my neck whenever he pleased, letting his presence known and pushing me into the table, forcing me back into the cotton candy hum as my oxygen deprived brain desperately fought to keep up.

I let it all wash over me, fully trying to feel all the sensations at once and getting hit with the flood of good good good oh god yes god yes please until I was screaming under them, body convulsing and cunt clenching on him one last time before I released all. The relief of the orgasm was immense and I went slack almost immediately while my thighs shook around Yoongi, the slick squelch of my pussy intensifying with every helpless pump.

Distantly I realised my own screams and moans while my body shook with the waves and aftershocks, until I went ragdoll on them and nothing but pure satisfaction and contentment flowed through me, mind completely scrambled.

Yoongi released his hold on me, instead hauling my legs over his shoulders and pressing my thighs to his abdomen, hips kicking up in pace. I twitched under him, pussy sore and sensitive but still willing to receive him in all his glory.

I heard the hitches in Yoongi’s breathing, both me and Hoseok watching him from below as he blindly chased after his climax knowing he’s so close it was palpable in the air.

Then a few rough pumps later the man suddenly pulled out, hand tearing the condom away and hurriedly jerking his red angry cock until he was twitching and spilling all over the back of my thighs. I felt his hot cum hit my heated skin and my cunt clenched so hard it was almost painful; at that moment I thanked god it wasn’t enough to get me going again, because I didn’t think I could handle another round.

Yoongi was still grunting and groaning breathlessly, one hand supporting him on the table while he attempted to catch his breath while Hoseok gently caressed my arms and hair to help me come down from everything.

I was too tired to think about anything, I just wanted to sink into their warmth and let them lull me to comfortable sleep. I let them manhandle me into a better position to be cleaned up, but I grumbled the whole time, already halfway unconscious and annoyed at being jostled from the soft floaty space somewhere above this plane of existence.

To their credit, they both tried their best to move me as slowly as possible, both softly cooing at me and giving out praises easily, but I ended up blinking the tiredness out of my eyes anyway and my brain cleared up. I still ate it all up and played up my grumbling to their great amusement.

Moments later I found myself wrapped in Yoongi’s black oversized hoodie, lying down on a comfortable soft blanket on the carpet with a pillow stuffed between my head and arm, while the men cuddled up to me from both sides. Something thin and cool was thrown over all of us, not exactly a blanket, but enough to give me the feel of not being completely exposed.

“You should let your friends know you’re okay,” Yoongi whispered, Hoseok sleepily humming from my other side, and before I could complain whinily about not knowing where my phone is, he was pressing it into my clumsy uncoordinated hands. I mumbled my thanks and blinked through the sudden ray of light cutting straight into my eyes. Blindly I clicked on the chat and wrote something half passing as a reassurement.

Petty bitch: mission accomplished sleeping over

With that I was completely dead to the world – all snuggled up into a lightly snoring Hoseok while Yoongi’s hand tenderly caressed up and down my side, not even realising an immediate answer came through.

Pink nightmare: atta girl :*

“Jesus fucking christ, I might have as well gotten run over by a truck,” were the first words tumbling out of my lips that morning when Hoseok shook me awake mumbling something about putting my clothes on.

Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, but at least the dark-haired man seemed to be similarly ruffled as he tried to stretch out groaning, face puffy and tired. He still giggled at my words though, and helped me stand up.

I did try to put my clothes on, but none of my limbs were cooperating and I ended up fumbling around like a newborn giraffe until Hoseok took pity on me and pulled my clothes on for me as I steadied myself on his shoulder. He was laughing at me the whole time, to which I replied by smacking him repeatedly while whining that this was all their fault.

As we stumbled back into the club area hand in hand, I finally got a glimpse of the ginger man, who was standing by the bar laughing around with a tired but still happy looking Tae. They seemed to be counting last night’s profit and the ginger bastard looked completely fine, a total one eighty from the two of us making our way over in snail’s pace.

Tae saw us first and the smirk he gave us was so shit-eating even I was considering slapping it off his face (a sentiment which seemed to be returned by Hoseok whole-heartedly). Yoongi’s laugh joined into the fray, and we just stood there and listened to them be greatly amused by the state of us.

“Holy shit hyung! What the fuck did you do to them?” exclaimed the other barkeep, a small thin guy with a pretty face and cutesy vibe, who was cackling like the devil himself when Hoseok glared at him, one arm still pulled around me like we were leaning on each other to stand (we might have been, honestly I was still pretty much asleep).

“Shut it Jimin-ah, I might still decide to keep the bonus to myself,” the man by my side threatened with no real heat behind it, and thus was promptly ignored by all three other occupants of the club while they entertained themselves by snickering at us.

Yoongi slowly walked over, face melting into something a little softer as he took us in, the slightest bit of worry worming onto his face. “You both okay, right?” he whispered to us, one hand squeezing my arm and other squeezing Hoseok’s. I snickered right back at him, amused by how he was trying to not show his tender side.

“Yeah, don’t worry, just half asleep on my feet,” I replied loudly, earning some chuckles from the two young guys at the bar, but they did seem quite used to their hyung’s shenanigans.

He lightly squeezed my shoulder before letting go, more serious gaze sent towards his business partner and friend, which had Hoseok sobering up pretty quickly.

“I’m sorry princess, we’d love to have a breakfast, but unfortunately we have a meeting with a potential partner,” Yoongi explained apologetically, and Hoseok groaned next to me, crumbling into my shoulder and loudly fake crying.

“I completely forgot about that,” he whinily complained, arms snaking around my waist like I was his personal emotional support stuffed animal (well, I was stuffed just a few hours prior, soo…), “I’ll have to go shower and change home and it’s across the whole city.” Yoongi looked unimpressed and pulled him from my side, the man pouting and blinking at him in an attempt to garner sympathy.

“Come on Seok-ah, Kookie’s here to drive us and my place is closer,” the ginger man murmured, trying to placate him – and it worked. Whoever this Kookie was, Hoseok brightened right up at the mention of him and started happily skipping towards the exit.

There was some booing and disgruntled “you’re never this happy about seeing me hyung!” screaming from behind the bar, but all fell on deaf ears as Yoongi started pulling me after the man and I barely even managed to shout my goodbyes.

“Kookie’ll get you home, pretty girl,” he promised with a tender smile, looking so kind and gentle it was almost a whiplash from the predatory smirk and sharp eyes from yesterday. Hoseok was already on the street hanging off of a laughing tattooed man.

His name was Jungkook I learnt, and he was pretty cool and obviously loved both men as his brothers, as the teasing and jokes flew between them the whole ride. Yoongi and Hoseok requested to be dropped off first, so I sat squeezed between them in the backseat while I bickered with Jungkook about the best drama currently running on TV.

Once out of car at the given address, both the men suddenly did seem quite in a hurry, but neither of them left without a hug, a kiss and some naughty words exchanged sneakily while their hands possessively grabbed at me unwilling to part.

“Keep the hoodie, princess,” Yoongi said finally, pulling Seok away and pointing at the clothing I forgot I was still wearing, “You can return it to me next time.” They both winked at me and with that, they were gone – disappearing into a very nice high-rise building in a posh neighbourhood.

With a bit of shame and still blushing from their displays of affection I told Jungkook my own address and he took me there gladly, even though he was teasing me about his hyungs the whole time.

It was all over too soon – before I knew I was standing in front of my quite average building, waving off Jungkook as he drove off god knows where, feeling quite happy even if a little lonely after spending the night with the two men.

His promise of seeing me again kept me warm though, and I reached in my handbag to pull out my keys – only for a little piece of paper to fall out. I bent over and took a look at it before bursting out laughing.

Min Yoongi +82 145-5286-036, Jung Hoseok +82 634-1654-220

Those sly bastards.

divider from @saradika-graphics <3

[1980shorrorfilm]

about a girl

pairing…natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

in which…nat knows she doesn’t deserve you, but she can’t seem to let you go either.

before you read…post-rescue timeline; nat’s early twenties. suggestive language, implied sex. nat’s substance abuse is mentioned but not gone into detail about. not super toxic but not all sunshine n rainbows. reader has dated a man. your parents haunt the narrative.

the motel room is dark, except for the neon red ‘vacancy’ sign from outside peeking through the gap in the curtain. 

natalie is sat up, feet hanging over the bed and touching the floor, her black socks surely dirtied from the old beige carpet. there are more unknown stains than she cares to count, the place too cheap for her to even care at all. 

beggars can’t be choosers, she knows that well. 

she peeks over her shoulder, to where you lie on the other side of the mattress, the thin blanket up to your bare shoulders. your face is turned to her, illuminated by the sliver of the red glow outside the window. your eyes are shut and your expression is soft, you appear like an angel and she can’t help but admire you. it’s a habit.

natalie sighs lightly, completely turning her figure in your direction, watching you sleep. she finds serenity in yours.

everything in her life is bad. it’s been that way for a painfully long time and nat can’t cry about all the shit she’s endured because god would that take forever. what she can do, is hold onto the one good thing that fell in her pale palms. 

you. 

it was a frat party. she had no right being there, but of course she was, and she stumbled into a bedroom with you crying and your boyfriend apologizing; insisting sarah had made a move on him. nat inserted herself, asking who the fuck was sarah, already inviting herself in the room.

she had a few beers in her system, and she had all the context she needed to be pissed on your behalf.

her adrenaline was pumping, getting that itch for trouble, and nat loved picking fights with assholes like him.

especially when he called her a nosy bitch and tried pushing her out of the room with a false authority.

natalie punched him square in the face the moment he placed a finger on her. she had done so, repeatedly. did he deserve the severity of it? maybe not. but he seemed like a dick so it was worth it.

this wasn’t the first time you had met her, you had run into her at your local diner and heard the horror stories about her, but it had felt like it was the first time you were truly introduced to her. 

maybe it was the way you two sat alone outside on the porch steps, a borrowed bag of frozen pizza rolls on her fist while you both chuckled at how fucking ridiculous it was. and sure, your laugh turned into quiet sobs when the reality had set in, and yeah nat didn’t know what to fucking do, but her awkward attempt at comforting worked. 

you needed to hear that you weren’t the problem, and that it wasn’t your fault, and you couldn’t prevent your piece of shit ex from doing shitty things. that was the type of person he was. and you’re so different. 

you had laughed at that part and asked her how she knew that; nat said she could just tell. she could see something in you that she lost a long time ago…a light. and god damn any motherfucker that dims it. 

natalie would not let that happen—not again. 

after you had dried your tears on her shoulder, she had playfully offered to kill your ex. this made you smile, genuinely, for the first time of the night, and you realized you didn’t want to let her go right then and there. you two walked to the nearest burger joint and that was the beginning.

unfortunately, nat couldn’t control the narratives about her, and the cruel comments that would soon involve you. the whisperings behind your back, being excluded from your usual friend groups, to simply not being invited out by them at all—the fear that she would tag along spooking your so called ‘friends.’

they drifted away from you.

and you didn’t care…or tried not to. 

it hurt more when your parents started looking at you differently, being shamed for even hanging around nat. that girl was no good for you. they repeated that over and over hoping it would get through your thick skull and to the wiser part of your brain. but, they just had to give her a chance; that’s what you told yourself.

it was a warm saturday evening when you had nat over for dinner, the brunette trying to remain as respectful as possible despite not at all receiving it back.

they hardly gave her time to chew and swallow the spaghetti on her plate—the red sauce around her lips not helping their violent image of her—instead throwing her a bunch of questions you didn’t even let her answer. 

where she was staying, aware she was jumping place from to place at the moment, and unaware she was sneaking into your bedroom other nights. if she’s clean, knowing that she was far from, though she never involved you with whatever she drank or put in her nose.

if she was serious about you, and holy shit did the blood drain from their faces when she earnestly said yes. 

it wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear, or wanted to be true, because that had meant natalie had sunk her claws into you—into their daughter. a lowlife. a loser. a cannibal. a few of the nasty words they called your girlfriend directly to your face, making you start to avoid the house whenever you possibly could.

how could you feel comfortable in a home where the other part of you isn’t welcomed?

it wasn’t easy. natalie held you when you cried to her about it, insisting they’re good people, and shockingly, nat never thought otherwise. they raised you, so of course they had to be. you’re the beaming sun and she’s a damn black hole. she couldn’t blame them.

but she also couldn’t care to grant them their wish of leaving you. natalie did have her claws dug into you—but they’re in so deep and she cannot rip them out. plus, she’d be ‘better,’ one day.

it was fine. 

the months passed and natalie had you all to herself, and it was like heaven. 

taking you to the cinema and feeling you lean into her, somehow always finding whatever played on the screen to be boring and dozing off upon her shoulder—she realized you felt truly safe with her.

probably the only person who does or ever will.

taking you to the arcade just so she can let you beat her in whatever she played you against; not that you sucked, it’s just a lot of hands-on games and nat was pretty good with her hands. 

you eyed them each time she held a joystick, the girl is always quick and precise—until she catches her concentration and lets up a bit, knowing she’s about to beat your high score. you’d roll your eyes when she’d groan how difficult the game was.

bringing you out to dinner, never at those higher end places your parents go to, but you preferred it that way. you liked eating greasy burgers with her or soft pancakes at night—always listening to whatever love song played from the jukebox, usually something slower from the sixties, enjoying it until one of the truckers at the counter paid for something else. 

those moments with natalie meant everything to you. 

even the bad ones.

it was the diner parking lot, right when the sun had just set. you had been asked politely to leave after finishing your apple pie, the waitress not well suited for the situation that unfolded. a group of boys way too old to be so immature, shouting the most disgusting things at nat—and you—such as asking you if you’re next on her menu.

this was when natalie had lost it, because she didn’t care what they said about her, she’s heard it all before. but getting you involved, that was just unacceptable. she jumped up from the booth with her cherry soda in hand, throwing it at the table and telling them to fuck off.

she took the air out of the restaurant.

you sat on the curb with her, listening to the stammered apology that left her mouth. you didn’t want to hear it, you only wanted her. you bluntly told her to shut up, and kissed her. 

natalie kissed back harder. 

you both got in your beat up car and drove to a midnight showing of the evil dead at the drive-in, where you had made out in the backseat until you could no longer feel your lips, and hers were redder than the corn syrup in the horror film.

you slipped up and whispered you loved her when her teeth were in your neck, then prayed to any higher power that she didn’t catch it. you didn’t want to scare her away, but it had done the exact opposite.

you fucking loved her. someone like you, could love her. and you didn’t care it was early and you didn’t care about the nasty looks you got from your peers or loved ones. you had natalie and that was all you needed.

you’d do anything for her.

even if that had meant dropping her off at shady places and being told to never bug her about it, and you would obey.

you kept your lips sealed when she’d slip into your unlocked bedroom window, violently faded and telling you she just needed to sleep it off. she’d hold you till she knocked out, so it was okay, even if she reeked of substances that would taint your freshly washed sheets, and you’d lose sleep making sure she slept on her side.

even if that meant paying her bail after a bar fight and you hadn’t even known she had gone out at all. and picking her up at three in the morning still in your pajamas.

you bit your tongue the entirety of the car ride to your home while she leaned back in the passenger seat, her legs spread as much as possible and her head facing toward the window. to the passing houses decorated with blossoming flowers and white picket fences, a life she knows she will never live. which meant, the possibility that you too, wouldn’t have. 

but you would have her.

she had always made up for her faults. not materialistic shit, more like heavy apologies that sometimes came with tears she’d harshly wipe away with her whole palm.

the thing with nat is, you see through her, not as the demon your parents make her out to be, but as the girl forced into a fucked up sense of adulthood before she could even put her childhood toys in a donation box. the immense trauma that stuck to her tighter than you do, and that was saying a whole lot.

she coped in ways you could never agree with, but you couldn’t change natalie.

you also couldn’t leave her.

it was hours prior when you had dressed up for your friends annual birthday bash, just to stand in the corner the whole time because no one offered you a conversation nor invited you into one. you felt pathetic, and out of place, and left early, no one noticing your silent disappearance. 

with the radio volume low you had drove back home, and dragged your feet to your room, just to see your bed covered with folded cardboard boxes. and a lengthy letter on top. your absent parents had a request—get out. 

they wrote that you changed, that you lost your self-respect when you allowed natalie to rule your life, or something stupid like that. that you weren’t their daughter anymore, not really.

you were too taken back for any of the words to sink in, the rug being pulled beneath your feet suddenly despite it inching away for nearly a year. you didn’t touch any of the boxes your parents so nicely had gifted you, your vision blurred with hot tears while you grabbed a duffel bag and threw a bunch of clothes and personal items inside.

it was hard to think—you needed to calm down, to see her.

you sped to the motel she’s been staying at for the last couple of days, hurried knocks on her door, the rain beginning to drizzle upon the asphalt. nat peeked through the windows curtain, hoping it wasn’t the last dealer she may have fucked over. when she saw you, she rushed to let you in.

the door swung open, and you just stared at her, your legs frozen while the tears ran down your face.

she pulled you into the room, and into her, her hand cradling the back of your head and her foot kicking the door back shut. between sobs, you told her what happened, and nat felt it. the guilt.

a flash of an image the night she saw you at that frat party, before she got so drunk and beat your ex in a strangers bedroom. when you were in your own world and dancing with your friends and not having a single fucking worry. then she came. 

natalie swallowed thickly, blinking away her own tears before you could pull away and notice. she gave you a reassuring smile, one that felt eerily forced, but she kissed you before you really noticed.

and you kissed back harder, desperate to numb all of the horrible things that you felt and thought. you pulled nat by her flannel onto the thin mattress, and asked her for one thing. to make you feel better. 

she did.

boy, did she.

you passed out right after nat cleaned you up and soothingly dragged her nails up and down your back. she tried to fall sleep too, even put on some shitty late night show hoping it would bore her to sleep. it didn’t. she turned it back off, studied the ceiling, then sat up, and stared at you.

you’re so pretty, and you’re all hers, and this isn’t a dream.

whether the world liked it or not, or your family approved of it or not, or if it was right, or wrong. 

natalie, slowly, gets up, careful not to disturb you. she redresses herself with the clothes you had taken off her earlier, grey sweats with a similar shade tee, accompanied by a brown and beige flannel that kept her warm. 

nat hovers over the bedside table, opening the drawer, and reaching inside. she ghosts her metal tin, grabbing her half-empty pack of cigarettes and a red lighter.

her steps are quiet when she exits the room, though she couldn’t prevent the obnoxious creaking beneath the carpeted floor, but again, she could afford this place therefore she couldn’t complain.

she doesn’t shut the door completely, letting it rest on the frame while she leans against the brick beside it. 

natalie sparks a cigarette, holding it with her lips while her hands lazily run over her hair, attempting to tame the dark and uneven chopped locks that were surely a mess. the way you liked it.

a blue jeep pulls into the lot, parking across from where she stands. natalie observes, returning her spread fingers to the cigarette hanging from her mouth, narrowing in on the driver.

it’s a younger man—younger than her—that gets out of the vehicle. he looks nearly pink. his head is down and he pulls his hoodie over his curls, both for security and out of shame. 

a taller guy wearing a green beanie comes from one of the nearby rooms, an abundance of smoke escaping from the scratched-up motel door. nat scoffs, watching him dig into the pocket of his dark jeans, pulling out something she couldn’t see; but could most definitely assume. 

especially when the younger one pulls out cash, shaky hands dropping it and then hurriedly collecting the paper, the exchange quick otherwise. a rookie. a person that probably never bought drugs before and doesn’t even know the shit he bought. 

a person letting their innocence slip away at this rundown motel…nat sighs.

she hopes her stress will fade into the oblivion with the smoke that dissipates in the air, and with the short time of her standing there listening to the rain drip from the gutter and a passing train occasionally blaring it’s horn—that wrong feeling somewhat does drift from her.

mostly, because nat is forcing herself to come to peace with one thing; that she is selfish. she’s lived her whole life doing shit for other people and cleaning up messes she didn’t cause, and for once she can just stop. 

she didn’t need to appease to anyone, to act like she’s better than she is because that’s what other people want to see from her. none of that—none of them—matter. she’s given everything and she’s lost everything.

she can have this one thing.

she was wrapped around your finger and your ribs and your lungs and every tiny heart string and she couldn’t untangle herself from you. no one else could see her the way you do, and that is another thing she’s at peace with. that didn’t matter because there wouldn’t be anyone else.

you left your own damn family because you are in love with her. and to be that loved in a life where she’s hardly ever felt it…she couldn’t lose that. 

it sounds bad, surely. but she learned the world wasn’t fair a very long time ago, and it’s never going to be, so why did she have to play fair? 

that was just fucking stupid. 

natalie inhales the cigarette smoke, letting it taint her lungs and burn her throat. then, she kneels and drags it to the ground, leaving it and reentering the room. you’re still asleep, she assumes, as she crawls into the bed beside you. then, nat hears your phone vibrate from the nightstand on your side. 

she chews her lip, reaching over you and grabbing it, flipping the bedazzled device open. predictably, it’s your folks begging for you to come home, already regretting their decision they hadn’t thought you’d truly consider, that you’d kick her to the curb like everyone else and go back to normalcy. a life without her. a nightmare. 

she hears you hum, shutting the phone off completely and shoving it under her pillow, watching you stir half awake. you only squint one sleepy eye open, a blurry vision of your girlfriend, barely making out the small smile on her beautiful face.

“nat…you stink.”

she laughs quietly at your words, slipping off her flannel and tossing it to the floor. she gets beneath the covers, your arm already reaching out and around her waist, snuggling into her despite the tobacco seeping into your nostrils. it doesn’t bother you as long as you feel her.

your head lays on her chest, directly above her pumping heart, drowning out everything but the thumping of it. that is all it takes for you to drift back into a peaceful slumber, nat noting how your sleepy body still clung to her. tight. trapping her.

because—in every sense—you didn’t want to let go of her either.

you believe you would do just about anything to have nat forever. throw away everything in your life and rebuild a new one with her.

and you will.