#barista’s legs no no work
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hot and Sweaty…. Ramen
Elias x Barista
The room was bathed in the soft glow of the kitchen lights as Elias and Barista sat across from each other, sweaty and out of energy, the only sounds being the quiet slurps of ramen noodles and the soft clink of chopsticks against bowls. The aftermath of their intimate moment still hung in the air, a subtle hum of energy lingering between them. Their clothes were hastily thrown back on—Elias in his loose-fitting joggers and Barista in a stolen shirt that definitely wasn’t theirs but smelled like him.
Barista was the first to break the silence, glancing at Elias with a lazy, satisfied smirk. “I think that’s the best “workout” I’ve had all week.”
Elias grinned around his chopsticks, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Almost made me forget we were starving before.”
Barista chuckled, twirling some noodles in their bowl. “And now here we are, post-workout meal, looking like we just survived a war.”
Elias leaned back in his chair, his muscles still loose and relaxed from the earlier intensity. He reached over to ruffle Barista’s hair, a playful glint in his eyes. “You say that like I didn’t win.”
Barista raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. “Oh? You won?”
Elias shrugged, fighting a smirk as he slurped more noodles. “I think the evidence speaks for itself.”
He said “ahem” clearing in his throat “Harder Elias!” He screamed,
Barista rolled their eyes, but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re impossible.”
“I know.” Elias leaned forward, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”
Barista gave him a look, a mockingly thoughtful expression. “Hmm, you’ve got a point. But it might just be the ramen. It’s really good.”
Elias feigned a hurt expression, dramatically clutching his chest. “Ouch. Reduced to just being a ramen chef. That’s cold, even for you.”
Barista leaned forward, placing their chopsticks down with a small clatter. “Well,” they said in a low, teasing voice, “you did bring the heat earlier. Guess I’m just balancing it out.”
Elias chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched them. “Fair enough. But next time, I expect some gratitude for my culinary skills. It’s not every day you get ramen like this after... you know.”
Barista smirked, picking up their bowl and taking a long, exaggerated slurp. “Fine. Consider me grateful.”
“Good, because I might just make you crawl over here next time your legs give out.”
Elias laughed, the sound filling the space between them, lightening the air. As they both returned to their meal, the intensity of earlier slowly dissipated, leaving behind a warmth that had nothing to do with the ramen and everything to do with the easy, familiar comfort they shared.
Even after the flames of passion, they found something just as satisfying—quiet moments of laughter, teasing, and noodle-slurping, knowing that whatever came next, they’d face it together.
#sakuverse#zsakuva#peppymintdreamsproduction#elias zsakuva#zsakuva elias#elias being an annoying menace#elias sakuverse#sakuverse elias#elias x reader#barista’s legs no no work#do you think Elias got BDE?#( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)#aftercare
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just applied to a burger place for a second job. 🙃 I just can't stay consistent with doordashing, and even when I do go out, the money I make is entirely dependent on how many orders I get. If I get an actual job, it's a much stronger commitment device and the pay is guaranteed by the hours I work. And at this particular place, the starting pay is awesome compared to other "similar" restaurants. I use quotes because it's fast food but it's actually good quality and beloved locally. Also this place is like 2 miles from my house; google says I could bike there in 11 minutes if I wanted... I found a few other places to apply to as well but I'll wait a bit to see if I hear back about this one first since the starting pay is so good.
Food service/retail can be taxing, especially the customer service part, but one thing I do oddly miss is how active it gets you. I think it would be good for me. And not just physically, but in a busy environment like that I can get into the flow state of mind, which is another thing I miss (especially when I was a barista). And this being a second job would reduce some of the pressure/stress that would normally be there too, knowing that it's only temporary until I get my debt taken care of, and knowing if I really don't like it I can quit any time and not even put it on my resume. Also I'm looking to be very part-time, like 15 hours a week or so.
I did this almost the same time last year though, when I applied to a pizza place I used to work at. I even got my food handler's card since I knew I would need that and wanted to be prepared/look like a good candidate. But I never heard back about that one and I didn't pursue it further or apply to any other jobs. Even though I need the money and there are a couple things I do miss about those kinds of jobs, there's still an aversion to getting a second job for obvious reasons lol. But I know I need to get a handle on my debt and I know I have the availability to do this, and it's not something I'm doing for fun. I'm trying to be responsible and disciplined and get my financial shit together, and that will undoubtedly require some sacrifice. But trying to stay focused on the drive to clear my debt, and those things I mentioned that I actually enjoy.
#the plan would be that my entire paychecks would go to my credit card btw#as hard as it was doing full time work in a grocery store/as a barista in the coffee bar there#i always left feeling a sense of accomplishment bc that type of job is stuff you can see and you can feel in your body if that makes sense#it was just very palpable and i really felt like i WORKED#i'd get home and sit at the computer for a bit and then get up to eat or something and my leg muscles would be like AHHHH#i actually liked all that haha#mine
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
my hip & leg are getting so bad im genuinely afraid i'm going to become permanently disabled if i dont change my career path
#its just... all i know how to do is food service#im a great barista and cook#but my body just cant handle it much longer#last night i got home from work and could barely move#my leg gives out a little bit when its like that and i stand up#txt
1 note
·
View note
Text
Men will literally get a mullet
#whyyyyyy did he do this. he had such good hair before!!#i’m in the work group chat like ‘gerry. GERRYYYYYY. please say sike’#he knew about my hopeless crush on him and decided to kill it. that’s the only assumption i can come up with#tbh he’s done all of us a public service. like this has genuinely helped me out a lot lol. i owe him one#one of what i don’t know. i’ll cover a weekend shift for him. even though i cannot stand on both my legs#it’s FINE okay it’s couture. having a barista that is mobile is so overrated#personal
0 notes
Text
'KUROO'
the black marker squeaks faintly against the plastic cup as you carefully draw out the same five letters that you've written nearly every shift for the past two weeks.
as you go through the motions of making the sugary, pink drink once again, your gaze strays to the tall, handsome man on the other side of the counter. he drags a hand through his messy black hair, smiling down at his phone.
"it's not for me," he says every time he orders the same exact drink with an embarrassed wince, tossing money in the tip jar while you count out his change.
sometimes, when you're working alone, he leans an elbow on the counter and asks you how your day is going. when it's busy, he's quieter save for the conspiratorial looks you incidentally share with him between transactions with difficult customers.
it's a little pathetic—just how badly you look forward to seeing him every day now. how you find yourself longingly gazing at the clock, waiting for 4 o'clock to hit and nearly pacing with bated breath to see if he'll show.
it's pathetic, because you're just the barista making the drink that he comes and orders for his girlfriend every day.
"UNCLE KUROO!"
something small and colorful zips by out of the corner of your eye, and you look up just in time to see a child go barrelling into kuroo's legs.
another man with silver hair who looks to be around the same age as kuroo comes jogging in behind her. "sorry, bro. i told her we had to wait outside."
the little girl pouts, tugging insistently on kuroo's pants. "uncle kuroo, i changed my mind. i'm tired of the pink drink. no more pink! i want chocolate!"
oh.
so it wasn't for his—
his friend looks between the two of you suddenly, something that could be considered borderline smug creeping across his face. "so this is why you—"
"—CHOCOLATE, uncle kuroo!"
kuroo sighs, running a hand over his face before he offers you an apologetic, if not slightly embarrassed, smile.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
lessons in intimacy (k.ys)
summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.
note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol
warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome
pairings: yeosang x reader
genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???
word count: 14.5K
additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!
Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page.
Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content.
“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath.
Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it.
And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face.
You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you.
Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.
You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today.
Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more.
Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page.
His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.
Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month
Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month
Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month
In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess.
You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative.
The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry.
There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through.
There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt.
His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs.
You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already.
There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson.
Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.
Guided masturbation and encouragement.
There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.
You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’.
The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him.
“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,”
You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat.
“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,”
Your breath comes a little more quickly.
“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,”
Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him.
“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?”
You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand.
“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,”
He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already.
“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”
As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling.
You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?”
You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait.
“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?”
You smile again.
“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?”
The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot.
He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.”
You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open.
“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,”
Your chest thumps hard.
“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.”
Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention.
“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?”
You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady.
“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen.
“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.”
A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions.
“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?”
Fuck.
“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,”
“Fuck,” You whisper.
“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,”
You’re nodding again.
“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.”
Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs.
“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due.
“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,”
Your legs spread a little wider.
He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants.
“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing.
You love him like this.
“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,”
You pull it back reluctantly.
“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,”
You comply immediately.
“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,”
You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone.
“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,”
You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear.
“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,”
Your breath catches.
“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,”
A moan bubbles up out of you.
“Hands off.”
Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind.
“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,”
You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next.
“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,”
You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause.
“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,”
You follow his instructions.
“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,”
You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot.
“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?”
You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting.
“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”
Sweat drips down your chest.
His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,”
You don’t have to be told twice.
“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,”
A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back.
“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to.
“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,”
Pleasure rocks in your gut.
“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,”
You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it.
“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,”
“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling.
“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?”
Pressure drops in your belly.
“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,”
It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back.
“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.”
You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful.
You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you.
“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,”
He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can.
“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,”
The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,”
Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel.
“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,”
The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere.
“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,”
Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot.
“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,”
You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over.
“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,”
He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you.
It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes.
“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,”
For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you.
“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.”
You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you.
“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,”
You blush again.
“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,”
The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling.
You are so, so fucked.
After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat.
You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post.
You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company.
It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit.
You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day.
When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five?
You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall.
To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries.
The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention.
You step closer, only one person ahead of you now.
When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone.
“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here.
Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning.
“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering.
Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby?
You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found.
You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?”
You’re frozen.
“Miss?” A little crease between his brows.
“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,”
“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,”
You can’t say anything, your mind blanks.
His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?”
“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,”
“Iced or hot?” He asks.
Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me?
“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,”
“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,”
You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed.
He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest.
“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line.
He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,”
“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?”
“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,”
“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?”
You shake your head, “No, first time,”
“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head.
“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,”
He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,”
“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?”
He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,”
You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer.
“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”
“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,”
Blush creeps up your neck.
“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head.
“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.”
“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?”
“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up.
It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,”
“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,”
“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,”
He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age.
“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella.
“Seven,”
“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”
He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,”
“Tomorrow,” You nod.
“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,”
Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,”
“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.”
Yeosang.
“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,”
“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,”
You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!”
Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,”
“See you again,”
He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer.
With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account.
Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual.
The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home.
On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening.
Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos.
He’s lovely.
Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something.
It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table.
“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?”
“The train,” You glance outside.
His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”
“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,”
“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,”
“Oh,”
“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?”
Flirting, then.
You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?”
He grins, “I’ve been trying to,”
Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,”
His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”
You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block.
Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits.
The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles.
You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?
You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns.
Do you tell him? Do you lie?
Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t.
On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking.
“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts.
“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.”
He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?”
You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes.
“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,”
“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?”
“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,”
“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?”
You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,”
“Recognized me?”
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”
“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,”
“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,”
He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down.
It was so, so nice while it lasted.
“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,”
His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,”
His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,”
“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,”
You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire.
His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch.
“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,”
“Undrinkable?” You blink.
“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,”
“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?”
“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,”
“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait.
He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you.
“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,”
“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.
“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly.
He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?”
“No,” You tell him firmly.
“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you.
“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,”
He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,”
“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,”
“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.”
“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”
“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you.
“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,”
“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,”
“Oh,” You soften.
“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious.
You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,”
He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,”
“Right,” You murmur.
“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?”
“Anything,”
“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting.
“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.”
He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking.
“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,”
He nods and then says, “I have one more question,”
You wait, your stomach in knots.
“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks.
“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,”
“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.”
“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm.
“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,”
“Oh,” You nod, but he continues.
“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,”
“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,”
“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.”
You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes.
You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,”
He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening.
“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,”
A small smile appears on his lips.
“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,”
“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,”
Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?”
He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”
“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,”
“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”
“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,”
His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?”
You nod again.
“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?”
It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much.
“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.”
He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,”
You nod.
“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him.
You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,”
He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words.
“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.”
He nods once, his shoulders tense again.
“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”
He softens, “No, no I don’t,”
“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”
“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks.
“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,”
He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.
“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.”
“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.”
“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks.
“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,”
He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?”
He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,”
He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe.
His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday.
When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air.
“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?”
“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,”
“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.”
“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again.
“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?”
He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too.
“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,”
“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,”
You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him.
“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,”
“Right,” You blush darker.
“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?”
You nod quickly.
One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.”
You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time.
“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.”
The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs.
“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,”
“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,”
He smiles, “Those are your favorites?”
You nod.
“And the roleplay?” He asks.
“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,”
“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips.
You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,”
“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?”
You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,”
“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater.
“Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,”
“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan.
“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,”
The button opens.
“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,”
Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?”
You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons.
“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”
“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead.
He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,”
You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,”
He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly.
“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,”
You nod, “So good,”
“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,”
You’re close.
“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,”
“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right.
“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,”
“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,”
“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,”
“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,”
He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips.
You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,”
He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,”
“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming.
“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,”
A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple.
“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,”
His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge.
“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,”
“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.
Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move.
He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,”
His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise.
“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,”
You shiver, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,”
“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile.
As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,”
“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes.
“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,”
“So come inside me,” You smile.
The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,”
You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,”
“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,”
“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,”
He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,”
“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions.
“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”
“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,”
“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh.
You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,”
“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?”
“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit.
“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands.
“Yes,” You answer quickly.
“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,”
“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.
“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,”
You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real.
Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real.
He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?”
“So good,” You sigh.
“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers.
“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you.
“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,”
“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble.
“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?”
“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body.
“Soon,” He promises.
You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit.
“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,”
“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,”
A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,”
“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,”
The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something.
It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor.
“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,”
“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,”
“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”
“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,”
He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing.
“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,”
Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight.
He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks.
“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,”
He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?”
You nod, still trying to catch your breath.
He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,”
You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,”
A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,”
“It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,”
“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair.
“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,”
You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,”
“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,”
You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,”
“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up.
You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,”
“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes.
“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss.
“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”
“I don’t know how I did it,”
He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,”
He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss.
“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,”
“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs.
“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you.
“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,”
“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?”
“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,”
He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs.
Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you.
“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants.
You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?”
“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet.
He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly.
You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he.
“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,”
You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed.
He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,”
You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him.
“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,”
You nod.
“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,”
You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire.
He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs.
His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you.
“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,”
He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,”
“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.
“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open.
“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust.
“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress.
“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low.
“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you.
“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,”
Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins.
His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?”
“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,”
“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,”
“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him.
“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?”
“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,”
“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,”
“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll.
He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips.
You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,”
He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer.
“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?”
All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together.
He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,”
Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan.
“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,”
You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin.
You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself.
“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,”
He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,”
The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively.
“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you.
With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side.
“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?”
“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion.
It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you.
“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,”
“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,”
He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly.
“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little.
“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”
“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock.
“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,”
A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest.
“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,”
Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,”
“Mm, yeah? Say that again,”
“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,”
“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now.
Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,”
“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,”
You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,”
“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises.
“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,”
He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips.
“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,”
“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet.
You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed.
He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble.
“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,”
Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good.
You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,”
“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours.
“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,”
“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,”
You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly.
“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,”
The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling.
“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,”
Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge.
You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock.
“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?”
Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,”
Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest.
It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,”
Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together.
“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees.
He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.
You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment.
You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open.
“Hey,” He murmurs.
“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”
He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,”
“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands.
“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you.
“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?”
He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,”
“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise.
“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,”
You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,”
He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?”
“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones.
“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water.
“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam.
“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you.
“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all.
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip.
Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap.
“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,”
You look up from the rippling water.
“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks.
You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,”
“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.”
“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand.
“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.”
“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together.
Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?”
“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little.
“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,”
“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,”
“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back.
You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,”
“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly.
“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,”
He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,”
“You like me,” You peck his lips.
“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,”
#honeyhotteoks updates#honeyhotteoks fics#yeosang x reader#kang yeosang#yeosang#ateez#yeosang ff#yeosang fic#yeosang smut
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
the things i do for capitalism 😒😒 (sell my soul to the coffee overlords only in exchange for a massive gaping shin wound and a whole pile of medical bills that i didnt have to worry about before i started that job)🌜‼️
#i spilled a 2 liter jug of boiling water on my leg while at work this past weekend and then just went back to work two days later normally#capitalism moment#this is so capitalist coded#capitalist society#this is so society#workplace#barista#workplace injury = cutesy
1 note
·
View note
Text
Guilty as Sin Pt.2 | P.SH
ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, dom!hoon, oral (m.rec), deep throating, fingering, cum eating, power dynamics, spanking, window fucking, punishment vibes, he makes her lick his shoe, pet names (good girl, slut), slight degradation, slapping, no aftercare mentioned but implied (kinda), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), anything else lmk! w.c: 8.2k synopsis: after your boss heard you on the phone last night, it was time to face the consequences of your sins, however, he has something else in mind other than firing you. a/n: hi! it's the much requested second part and i need to tell you i got carried away with this. 6k of this is pure smut so it's kind of a pwp still. you can also read this as a stand alone if you really want to. i hope you guys love it and thank you so much for the love on the first part! as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are welcome
part 1
The door in front of you seems daunting, an imposing barrier that looms larger with every passing second. The air grows suddenly cold as a draught from the office behind it whooshes through the slits in the frame, sending a shiver over your body. You've been standing here for precisely 2 minutes and 12 seconds, the weight of your hesitation pressing down on you. The confrontation ahead feels monumental, the necessary action of knocking on the door an insurmountable hurdle.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. With your left hand, you awkwardly smooth down your charcoal pencil skirt. The fabric, meticulously ironed earlier this morning, clings slightly to your legs, stopping just above your knee. You adjust the waistband, ensuring your crisp white blouse is neatly tucked in. This is a constant ensemble you wear to your work and has been accepted and sometimes praised by others, yet today it doesn’t feel up to standard.
The coffee in your right hand was supposed to be a peace offering, a gesture to sweeten up your boss after last night’s…escapades. You had hoped the familiar aroma of his favourite brew would set a positive tone for the conversation. But the barista had made the wrong order, a careless mistake that left you with a cup of something less than ideal. With no time to wait for a replacement, you had rushed out of the shop, the seconds ticking away, and now here you are, standing at the threshold, the incorrect coffee staring at the door with you, a bubbling disappointment he will surely add to the list.
It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. You were supposed to have a quiet night in with a glass of wine in one hand and a dildo in the other, not your boss possibly thinking that you’re a pervert. There is no way he didn’t hear you on the phone as you climaxed to his voice; it was so loud you think the old lady from three flats down could have heard you.
As fucking amazing as the orgasm was - possibly one of your most star-bursting - it does leave you with dire consequences that you have to face right this instant. You’re already a minute past 6am and he isn’t going to be too happy about that.
Gathering every ounce of courage, you straighten your posture, shoulders back, head high. You take one final, steadying breath. With your heart pounding in your chest, you lift your hand, knuckles brushing lightly against the door, and tap firmly three times. The sound echoes in the silence, each knock a heartbeat, a countdown to whatever awaits on the other side.
The moments stretch interminably. You can almost feel the seconds dripping by, thick and viscous, each one a testament to your growing anxiety. Your grip tightens around the coffee cup, the warmth seeping through the thin cardboard sleeve, a small comfort against the chill that has settled into your bones.
“Come in.”
His booming voice filters through the oak door, startling you despite your knuckles alerting him of your presence. Although he has given you the go-ahead, you still don’t move for two beats, suddenly regretting the decision not to quit via email as soon as you cleaned the cum from your dildo and finished off the entire bottle of wine.
With a shaky breath, you force your legs to carry you forward. The door feels heavier than it should as you push it open, the creak of the hinges matching the tension coiling in your stomach.
The office is modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows occupying one corner, offering a panoramic view of the cityscape. The rest of the room is a study in black and white - sleek, minimalist furniture and stark contrasts that give the space a sterile, yet sophisticated feel.
Behind a glossy wooden desk, your boss sits, his stern gaze fixed on you, making the room feel both expansive and claustrophobic at the same time.
“Good morning,” you manage to say, your voice sounding meek and uncertain. You step inside, the door clicking shut behind you with an ominous finality. Whatever happens, whatever reprimanding he is about to bestow upon you, there is no escaping.
Your boss doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes flicker to the coffee cup in your hand, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Is that for me?” he asks, his tone cool and unreadable. He knows you bring him coffee every morning but the hesitance in your step confuses him.
“Yes, Mr. Park, but I’m afraid it’s not your usual order,” you confess, stepping forward and placing the cup on his desk. The surface is immaculate, reflecting the cup and your trembling hands like a dark mirror. “The barista made a mistake and put oat milk instead of soya and a pump of vanilla rather than honey.”
He picks up the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. The contact sends a jolt through you, a reminder of last night’s indiscretion, how you wished it was his hands all over you. He inspects the label, then takes a small, unsure sip.
Playing with the tips of your fingers and tapping your knees together briefly, you wait for a scolding, yet nothing comes from it. His face insinuates that he isn’t exactly thrilled by the taste, but he isn’t throwing it in your face or firing you, so, you relax a little.
He isn’t the type of boss who lashes out at you; rather, he keeps his calm in most situations. Even that one month when you scheduled all his June appointments for July and June was filled with May meetings. That day, he simply told you that you couldn’t leave the office until everything was finalized and settled; it was a long night.
Not looking at you, he goes back to typing something on his laptop, his face now back to that monotonous glare that gives zero indication of his feelings away. Was he mad? Confused? Disappointed? You could never know by his neutral expression.
You stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, awaiting further instruction. The silence stretches on, making the ticking of the wall clock seem unbearably loud. Usually, he has a list of things you should be doing, and to get you up and in the office early seems pointless if you’re just going to stand there in your gifted black, shiny heels - gifted by him nonetheless.
Finally, you clear your throat softly and speak up. “Your meeting is in three hours, sir. Did you want me to come in early to help or…?” You trail off, unsure how to proceed.
Mr. Park looks up expectantly, one eyebrow raised as he peers over his glasses. “Or?”
The single word hangs in the air, loaded with unspoken expectations. By the glint in his eye, it was clear he wanted you to continue, to confess to your sins, which means he did hear you come undone last night. If you could jump out of his office and onto the cold concrete 39 floors below, you would; it would be much less painful.
You feel a tint of warmth along your cheeks, head bowing in a sorry gesture. There is no way you can just turn around and say ‘Sorry about last night, it should be a compliment considering no other man or porn is able to get me off quite like your Instagram does’. That is a HR appointment waiting to happen.
So instead you stay silent, much to his impatience.
Once he realises you aren’t going to use your voice box anytime soon, he shuts his laptop over before sitting back in his chair, inhaling so deeply you see his chest rise under his white Prada shirt.
As you take in his appearance, a pool forms between your legs. No matter how many times you see him in his work aesthetic; black fitted slacks, a white, tight fitted shirt, the black tie that he forms in a Windsor knot, and those silver framed glasses that you’re convinced are just for aesthetic and not functional, you still can’t control the lewd thoughts in you mind. His face with those perfect eyebrows and dark eyes only makes you draw closer to his face.
It’s worse when you’re both in a lift and you imagine it breaking down, clothes flying as you ravage one another-
“I think it’s time we had your supervision, don’t you?” Sunghoon’s question rips your attention away from your filthy thoughts and back to reality.
“But, Sir, I just had my supervision last month,” you recall. Every three months, Sunghoon calls you in to track your progress, give you direction on how to further progress as an employee, and list areas you can improve on. It is also a time to bring up any issues he might have with your performance.
Last month, like all the other supervisions you have dreadingly attended, had a positive outcome, with no complaints from your boss despite your mistakes. You’re beginning to think he might not be as harsh as he seems, the CEO stereotype of cold, mean, and detached sometimes clouding your perception of him. Sure, he can be scary, but isn't that true of every boss?
“I must have lost the file,” he says, sucking his teeth in a feigned apology. “Please, have a seat.”
Sunghoon gestures to the black leather chair across from him. His pupils expand, and his tongue swipes past his lips as you sit, crossing one leg over the other like you have many times before. Your skirt hikes up to mid-thigh, exposing more skin than is office-appropriate.
Sunghoon adjusts his glasses, peering down at some papers on his desk, scanning through them as if they contain all the questions he needs to grill you on. You know they don’t because he keeps all his files electronically; it's easier for him to find and navigate, plus he hates adding unnecessary pressure on the environment. You discovered his soft spot for the earth after he asked you to double-check his bank statement and you saw multiple transactions to various environmental charities.
“So,” he begins, reading the nonsense papers, “How do you think you’ve performed over the past few months?”
The questions are always the same, so you always answer them the same way; how Sunghoon wants them answered. “Good, Sir. I think I have made progress, but there is always room for improvement.”
“And what would you improve?”
“I believe my performance is steady, but it would be good to challenge myself. The opportunities you’ve given me to explore different departments have been invaluable. It could be beneficial to work closely with you and bring forth ideas in pre-meeting discussions between us.” You repeat what you said last month, just in a different order. Your boss loves it when you subtly praise him; it always causes his eyebrows to rise and a small, tight smile to grace his face.
Except this time, he smirks - a look he only adopts when he’s either about to obliterate someone in the boardroom or win an argument. Neither scenario fits your current conversation, leaving your mind swirling with uncertainty.
The atmosphere has turned thicker with heat. Maybe it's your own problem as you tighten the grip on your crossed legs, watching his large, veiny hands flick through a stapled booklet, sometimes licking his finger for grip.
Should you be looking at him like this after what happened last night? Probably not, but you’re just a woman with needs, and you crave Sunghoon to curb those needs as quickly as possible, no matter the working relationship.
But this is how you got into this mess - letting your thirst for him take over your state of mind. Now, you’re facing an unnecessary supervision that could lead to your termination or a department transfer. You work under Sunghoon as his assistant, but he has allowed you to grow and learn in ways a typical boss wouldn’t. Instead of fetching coffee and running errands, he’s included you in meetings, let you make some decisions, and introduced you to department heads, especially the graphic design team, the field you wish to progress into.
Perhaps that’s the source of the heated atmosphere - not your uncontrollable lust but your fear.
“And would you say you have a good working relationship with others at work?” he asks, his shoulders tenser than before.
This is a new question, one you haven’t rehearsed an answer for.
“Uh, yes?”
He stops shuffling papers at your lacklustre response, clearly unimpressed, and gives you a moment to elaborate. “I mean, yes, I do get along with most people here. I try to maintain professionalism and have a healthy balance along with friendships.” It’s a generic answer, but mostly true.
“Do you think we have a good working relationship?” Sunghoon hasn’t looked at you this whole time, but you can see him fighting the urge.
“I believe so, Sir. I think we get along well and have a solid foundation built on respect,” you answer honestly, omitting the times you’ve thought about him in a less-than-professional light.
Sunghoon takes off his glasses, pushing his chair back slightly. “I see.” His words are sharp and contemplative, making your chest tighten. He’s absolutely firing you today, and he has every right to do so. He probably feels disrespected and disgusted by what he heard last night.
Circling his desk, he leans against the edge, his body now close to yours, radiating an air of dominance. You can feel the heat of his presence, the way his gaze pierces through you, making the room feel even smaller.
This isn’t going to end well for you.
“So, what was it you used to get yourself off last night to the sound of my voice?” he asks, his tone low and menacingly curious.
The question hits you like a freight train. You choke on your own saliva, eyes bulging, mouth turning drier than a Ritz cracker without butter. Your heart pounds in your chest, echoing in your ears like a drum. You try to form words, but your mind is blank, overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of his question and the implications it carries.
Sunghoon's eyes narrow slightly as he watches your reaction, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His demeanour is composed, but there's an underlying intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. He seems to relish your discomfort, his confidence only growing as he maintains eye contact, making it impossible for you to look away.
Your thoughts race, trying to find a way out of this situation. The room feels suffocating, the silence between you stretching endlessly as you struggle to regain your composure. The memory of last night flashes in your mind, the sound of his voice in the background as you gave in to your desires.
Sunghoon shifts slightly, his stance more relaxed, yet every movement is calculated, deliberately exuding power. He taps a finger on the desk, the sound sharp and precise, mirroring the tension in the room. His eyes glint with a mix of expectation and something darker, making it clear that he won’t let this go easily.
“Do you need a moment to answer, or should I repeat the question?” he asks, his voice dripping with mock politeness.
You swallow hard, your throat dry, and manage to find your voice, though it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”
He pokes his tongue to the side of his cheek, fighting the urge to smirk fully. “Don’t play coy with me. I heard everything. Now, answer my question.”
Your mind scrambles for an escape, but there’s no way out. You’re trapped, cornered by his authority and your own actions. The room feels like it’s closing in on you, the tension thick with something unspoken. You know you have to say something, anything, to break the silence and diffuse the situation, but words fail you.
Sunghoon’s gaze remains fixed on you, unrelenting. “Well?” he prompts, his voice a dangerous whisper. He rolls up his sleeves devilishly slow, giving you a show of his veins and strong yet soft hands.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable. “It was a mistake, Sir. It won’t happen again,” you manage to say, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay calm.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your response. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he says, leaning closer, his presence overwhelming as his eyes fixate on yours. “What did you use?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You can feel the weight of his expectations, the demand for honesty. There’s no escaping it. You have to confront this head-on, no matter how humiliating it is.
Taking another shaky breath, you finally confess, your voice barely audible. “I used a dildo, Sir.” You want the world to swallow you whole, to never see the light of day again because how could you possibly admit to that in front of the Park Sunghoon?
His smirk deepens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “What size?” he asks, his tone almost casual but laced with a dangerous curiosity.
Your heart pounds even harder. Every beat is a reminder of the humiliation you’re enduring. “Six inches,” you whisper, your face burning with shame. Now your boss knows the size of your dildo. Great.
Sunghoon's eyes gleam with a predatory satisfaction. “And was it me you were thinking about?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. The question pierces through the remaining shreds of your composure.
You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, feeling the weight of his stare. “Yes,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking about you, Sir.”
Sighing with feigned disapproval, Sunghoon crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Y/N, I am very disappointed in you.” That is the last thing you want to hear; the respect you have for him as a boss and a professional makes the words sting just a little bit more than if it was anyone else.
You bow your head in shame, rubbing your knee to comfort yourself against his harsh tone. “I’m so-”
“It should have been at least eight,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to snap to his, widening in shock.
His words hang in the air, and the implications send a shiver down your spine. He pushes off the desk and moves closer to you, his presence even more imposing. “You see,” he continues, his voice low and controlled, “if you’re going to fantasise about me, you should at least get the details right.”
Your heart races, the mixture of fear and anticipation almost too much to bear. Sunghoon leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “Now, let’s assess your performance. I expect complete cooperation from you moving forward. Understood?”
It’s a subtle way of asking your permission, knowing that once whatever is about to transpire in this office happens, there is no going back to your previous assistant and boss relationship, especially if his hungry eyes and your pulsing core have anything to say about the matter.
Nodding, you agree quickly, granting him your consent, but that isn’t good enough for him.
“Y/N, one thing that constantly comes up in these supervisions is your development of communication skills,” he says, tutting with a mocking glare. “Use your words.”
You take a deep breath, your pulse racing as you summon the courage to speak. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”
A satisfied smile crosses Sunghoon’s face as he takes in your words. “Good,” he murmurs. “Now, bend over the desk.”
You comply, standing up and leaning forward until your chest is pressed against the cool surface. Your skirt rides up, exposing your thighs, and the vulnerability of the position sends a shiver through you.
The energy in the office is charged with anxiety and anticipation. The gentle hum of the air conditioner does little to alleviate the heat emanating between the two of you. The familiar surroundings suddenly feel exotic and infused with new vitality. The mixture of the light from the world waking up outside and the glow of his desk lamp creates an intimate, almost clandestine ambience.
Sunghoon’s imposing desk, usually a symbol of authority and professionalism, now serves as an altar for your transgression. The smooth, polished wood feels cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your body. Papers and office supplies, once orderly and mundane, now seem like silent witnesses to the unfolding drama.
Sunghoon steps closer, his presence looming over you. The scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly him envelops you, mingling with the faint, clean scent of the office. His hand smooths over your exposed skin, gentle but possessive, sending goosebumps over your delicate skin. He hikes up your skirt so your ass is exposed and ready for the inevitable.
“You need to be taught a lesson, to help you improve your vocal skills, wouldn’t you say?” he asks, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that cuts through the silence.
Without warning, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasp, the sting of the impact radiating through you. He doesn’t give you time to recover before delivering another smack, then another, each one firm and precise.
It’s electric and better than anything you could have conjured up using your imagination alone. His spanks are harsh but not unpleasant, each vibration of his hand to your cheeks rippling down to your core. It aches to be touched, wetness glistening over your folds to exhibit your desperation.
Pressing himself against you, you feel his bulge prominent against you. Fuck, you really did underestimate how big he was. Even concealed, you know he’s packing so much that your dildo pales in comparison. His hands now soothe your scarlet ass, giving you some relief.
However, the calm is short-lived. “You’re going to tell me everything you fantasise about, no detail left unturned. Got it?” His voice is dark, his breath warm against the back of your neck, and his lips so close to your skin that you almost whimper out in need.
You can’t believe this is happening. All those months of wishing he would touch you, spank you, punish you, praise you, and do literally anything to you are all coming to fruition right now. Maybe you should have slipped up earlier, maybe those chances to touch his thigh at meetings or drunkenly kiss him at work nights out would have gotten you in this position a lot quicker.
It does beg the question, how long has he wanted this? Has he thought about you at all in any way other than his assistant? Perhaps this is a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing or could he want you just as badly?
“Yes, Sir,” you answer his previous question, cheek pressed against the cool desk as your body heats up.
“Good,” he murmurs, his hands tracing over the redness of your ass, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. “Start from the beginning.”
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I fantasise about you, Sir,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “I think about you touching me, I want to please you in every way.”
His hand comes down again, a sharp reminder of his dominance as he leaves a lingering sting. “Be specific,” he demands. “I want details.”
Your mind races, trying to find the words because what haven’t you thought about? You have imagined him in every possible scenario; loving you, hating you, cuddling you, punishing you, and most importantly, fucking you into oblivion. Even last night, you thought about him punishing you exactly how he is right now.
“Sometimes I-I think about you punishing me, spanking me until I cum,” you admit, your voice quivering with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. It feels incredibly dirty to vocalise your fantasies, yet Sunghoon seems more than thrilled by the idea you paint with your words.
He has always been the controlling type, commanding respect without arrogance, a quality that naturally makes people want to please him. Unfortunately, you've taken that want and twisted it into a filthy need.
Your boss delivers another firm smack to your ass, causing a gasp to escape your lips and a slick of your arousal to drip onto his polished shoe. He notices, but any reprimand is postponed; for now, he's focused on your communication skills to help you improve as an employee…of course.
Sunghoon’s touch is deliberate, each spank is a calculated act of dominance that leaves your skin tingling and your thoughts scattered. His hand moves with precision, alternating between stinging slaps and soothing caresses, creating a rhythm that both punishes and rewards.
He is nothing if not fair.
“Just spanking?” he teases, his fingers hooking into the band of your panties as he plays with it, feeling the lace on his skin.
You quake at his touch, caught off guard by his question. His fingers toy with the delicate fabric, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The air around you crackles with tension, thick with unspoken desire and the heady scent of arousal.
“No, Sir.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. This is the one time to make your fantasies come to life, whatever you tell him now will probably be what you receive. You need to make sure this is everything you truly want, it could be the first and last time. “I imagine your fingers inside of me, calling me a good girl as I cum.”
Sunghoon’s jaw tenses, eyes closing behind you as the dirty confession sends an electric current through him. His hand tightens on your panties, a possessive grip that both excites and reassures. His controlled demeanour cracks slightly, revealing a raw hunger beneath the surface.
“You want my fingers inside you, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “You want me to make you cum, to be my good girl?”
His words send a thrill through you, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. Sunghoon’s touch becomes bolder, sliding the lace of your panties aside to tease your folds, his fingers brushing against your wetness.
“You’re so wet,” he observes, his tone both approving and teasing. “Did my spanking turn you on this much?”
You nod, unable to form words as pleasure coils tight in your belly. Sunghoon’s fingers explore your slick heat, his touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume you. The desk supports your trembling form as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear.
“I’m going to make you cum,” he whispers his voice a promise that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “But first, you have to beg for it. Prove to me that you can use your voice.”
You whimper, the command sending a jolt of need through you. “Please,” you gasp, your voice pleading and desperate. “Please, Sir, I need it. I need your fingers inside of me, making me ready to take your cock.” You should be humiliated by how easily the sentences tumble from your mouth but the cocktail of your lust and his teasing touch make you weak.
Sunghoon’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his fingers finding your clit and circling it slowly. “That’s it, you always have been a fast learner,” he murmurs, his touch sending sparks of pleasure to your heart. “So good for me.”
His words fuel your desire, the intensity building with each stroke of his fingers. Your body responds eagerly, hips pushing against his hand in a silent plea for more. His touches are slow and precise, giving just enough attention to your nub to make you want more before he drags his fingers down your folds and plays with your aching hole.
Sunghoon’s eyes darken with intent, his fingers delving deeper into your slick folds. The teasing pace shifts, his touch becoming merciless as he thrusts his fingers inside you with an intensity that makes you gasp. Sunghoon’s control is absolute, his touch expertly bringing you closer to the edge.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asks in a deep, governing tone. "Is this what you begged for?"
You can only groan in return, your body arching towards him, yearning for more. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mixed with your frantic whimpers as his fingers curl within you, finding the point that causes your vision to blur.
"Look at you," he says with a satisfied tone in his voice. "So eager and desperate. My good girl."
His words add another surge of pleasure and your hips move in sync with his unrelenting fingers. Every time he calls you a good girl, you swear a piece of your pussy and heart is imprinted with his name. The sensation is overpowering, with each stroke of his long fingers drawing you closer to the brink. You can feel your release building, like a coil of fire tightening in your centre.
Sunghoon’s thumb finds your clit, adding to the exquisite torment. He rubs it in slow, deliberate circles, the dual sensation making you cry out. The pleasure is almost too much, your body trembling with the intensity of it.
“You’re going to cum for me,” he demands, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to feel you tighten around my fingers. I want to hear you scream my name. Be vocal, don’t hold back.”
His directive is all you need. With a final effort, the cord inside you snaps, and your release crashes over you in waves. You shout out, his name on your lips, and your body convulses with delight. Sunghoon keeps moving his fingers inside you, prolonging the climax until you're a shaking, gasping mess.
You are so happy no one else in this building can hear you.
As your breathing slows, Sunghoon withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, savouring your taste with a hum of approval. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with a mix of satisfaction and lingering hunger.
“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor where droplets of your release have landed on his shoe. “We can’t have that, can we?”
Before you can respond, he grabs your hair, yanking you up from the large desk. His body is still pressed behind you, his lips ghosting your lobe as he breathes heavily. “The next part of your assessment is following instructions. Clean it up,” he commands, his voice brooking no argument. “Use your tongue.”
Your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, but you nod, obediently lowering yourself to your knees. The sight of you on the floor, eyes filled with submission, seems to please him. His fingers trace your jawline before guiding your head downwards.
The leather of his shoe glistens with your essence, and you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lap at the droplets. The taste of yourself mixed with the leather is intoxicating, the saltiness of your release mingling with the rich, earthy flavour of the leather. You can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning into you, watching every movement with rapt attention.
“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a low purr. “Make sure you get every drop. Lick it spotless.”
You work diligently, your tongue tracing over the shoe, cleaning every last bit of your release. The texture of the leather is smooth under your tongue, each lap bringing a mix of shame and excitement. You should not be this willing to humiliate yourself, especially in front of a man, but he makes it so easy to fall in line.
Sunghoon’s hand rests on the back of your head, a constant reminder of his control. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging and petting gently as you continue your task.
Once you’re finished, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him with pride and submission. Sunghoon’s eyes soften slightly, a hint of warmth breaking through his dominant facade. He crouches down, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips.
“You’ve done well,” he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. “But we’re not done yet.”
He stands, the glint of authority returning to his eyes as he begins to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking sends a shiver down your spine, your gaze locked on his hands as they work with deliberate slowness. The belt slides free, and you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, the desire to touch him overwhelming.
As your hand moves forward, Sunghoon’s reflexes are swift. He catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Not until I tell you to,” he warns, his tone stern. “Don’t make me tie you up.”
Your eyes widen slightly, and you nod, drawing your hand back to your side. The threat of being restrained hangs in the air, adding another layer of excitement. Part of you wishes that he would take that sleek black tie from his collar and wrap it around your wrists but you know that if you can’t touch him, you’ll go insane.
Sunghoon releases your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes down his dress trousers and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection.
The sight of him, thick and pulsing with need, makes your mouth water. It’s fucking beautiful, so much more exquisite than in your sinful fantasies. You lean forward, eager to please, but he places a hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Patience,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You’ll get what you want, but on my terms. Don’t make me tell you again.”
He steps closer, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. The warmth and hardness of him send a thrill through you, and you part your lips, ready to take him in. Sunghoon taps himself on your outstretched tongue a few times before he guides himself into your mouth, the taste of him filling your senses. You begin to suck gently, your tongue swirling around the head, savouring the salty tang of his pre-cum.
Sunghoon’s hand finds its way back into your hair, gripping tightly as he begins to move his hips. He pushes deeper, his cock sliding over your tongue and hitting the back of your throat. The sensation makes you gag slightly, but you relax your throat, allowing him to press further.
“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a husky whisper. “Take it all.”
He thrusts into your mouth with increasing intensity, each movement making your eyes water and your throat constrict around him. The feeling of being filled so completely is overwhelming, a mixture of discomfort and pleasure that sends a rush of heat through your body. You can feel him hitting the back of your throat, his cock sliding in and out with a rhythm that leaves you breathless.
Sunghoon’s grip tightens, and he begins to fuck your mouth with a relentless pace. Your hands clutch at his thighs for support, the muscles beneath your fingers tensing with each thrust. His breathing grows heavier, each exhale is a rough pant that tells you how close he is to coming undone.
“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice strained with lust. “Just a little more.”
With a final, deep thrust, he holds himself at the back of your throat, his cock pulsing as he reaches his climax. You feel the hot rush of his release, his cum spilling down your throat as he groans your name. You swallow eagerly, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he slowly withdraws.
Sunghoon looks down at you, satisfaction evident in his eyes. He brushes a thumb over your swollen lips, smearing a bit of his cum across them before guiding you to stand. He kisses you deeply, the kiss a mix of dominance and raw need, a reward for your obedience. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting himself, which only drives him deeper into arousal.
The intensity of the kiss deepens, his hands roaming your body with a sense of urgency. He grips your hips, pulling you flush against him, the heat between you igniting. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and with a swift motion, he tears them away, the sound of the fabric ripping only adding to the raw desire between you.
You gasp into his mouth, the sudden exposure sending a thrill through your body. Sunghoon’s hands are everywhere, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your skin. His touch is both possessive and reverent, each movement fuelled by a hunger that matches your own.
It’s wrong, he knows it, he should have stopped it at the spanking; he shouldn’t have started this at all. But when he heard you last night, moaning his name and cumming over the phone to his voice, it erupted a desire in him he hasn’t had for anyone in such a long time.
Sunghoon has kept you as his assistant selfishly because he knows you are better suited in a lead role somewhere else in the company, your ideas and suggestions invaluable to the work that goes on here. Your potential is wasted by his side but he can’t let you go, not now, not ever.
He has never denied your beauty, a bonus to the intelligence you harbour inside of you. He just could never act on it, knowing that even a slight brush of his hand against yours could send him spiralling out of control.
And that is exactly what is happening now. He started with complete control and now he just wants to fuck you against every surface of his office, make you beg for more, and ruin your pathetic fantasies with the real deal.
Your hands find their way to his shirt, fingers fumbling with the buttons in your haste to undress him. Sunghoon’s mouth moves to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he helps you, shrugging off his shirt and letting it fall to the floor. Clothes fly and shoes scatter as you both lose yourselves in his office.
His hands grip your waist, lifting you with ease as his lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and over your breasts. Your legs wrap around his torso, seeking friction against the growing hardness pressing against you. You writhe in his hold, your body desperate for more, your arousal slicking his skin as you move to gain any sort of friction on your cunt.
Your mind, much like always, is going to places where he devours you and makes you his, only driving you to complete desperation. All those months of longing for your boss's cock and knowing that it’s simply inches away from your pussy makes you mewl out.
“Sir-”
“You want to beg some more?” he says cockily, smirking as his lips pepper kisses down to your collarbone and just above your top breast. Sunghoon’s mouth finds your nipple, sucking and biting gently, causing a moan to rip from your throat. His teeth are applying just enough pressure to hurt but not scar, tugging and rolling your nipple until you’re begging him.
“Please, Sir, I need you, I need your cock so badly.”
“Yeah? What perverted fantasies are twisted in your mind now?” His question is laced with curiosity and mockery, knowing exactly all the lewd thoughts that could cross your mind.
His words send a shiver down your spine as he carries and pushes you up against the tall windows of his office. The cool glass contrasts sharply with the fevered heat of your bodies, making you gasp. The city skyline stretches out behind you, a silent witness to your passionate encounter.
He snarls at you, not in a demonic way - although his dark pupils could have fooled you - but no, he’s snarling like an animal looking at his prey, ready to pounce and ravage you in whatever way you want.
Glancing behind you, you see the city and even though you know you are too high up for anyone to see you, a gleam of embarrassment shines from your face and your naked body cowering into itself as you hide from the outside world.
Noticing your sudden change in manner, Sunghoon scoffs, forcing you to look at him as he brings your face to meet his gaze, pressing you further against the window with his body to ensure you don’t escape. “What’s wrong, Y/N? You didn’t seem to mind an audience last night.”
You whimper, shaking your head. Of course, you didn’t mean to answer his call during your private session, letting lust take over your senses. But you somehow still have a fraction of your senses left, enough to know that drones fly by daily in this city, and what if birds actually do have cameras in their eyes? They could record you and post it on Twitter or something.
Your mind doesn’t just come up with elaborate scenarios for fucking your boss.
Sunghoon sees your focus drift to what-ifs and wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing tightly to draw your attention back to him. His eyes are hooded, and the CEO that you know so well is gone, replaced with a primal man needing to devour you right in front of the city he so proudly claims as his home.
“You think anyone out there cares? Or can even see you?” he hisses, tightening his grip slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. “You wanted these fantasies and I am being more than kind in fulfilling them considering I could have fired you, called HR and made sure you could never work in this industry again. But I’m fair, aren’t I? Generous, almost.”
“Yes, Sir,” you manage to gasp, your voice trembling. He has every right to say all of this to you because it’s true; he could have easily fired you and blacklisted you from every marketing company in the country, never mind the city. Yet, here he is, granting you your deepest fantasies and not firing you.
“That’s better,” he growls, his lips crashing down on yours in a bruising kiss. His hand moves from your throat to hoist you up further, so your cunt is in perfect alignment to meet his thrusts.
The cold glass against your back is a sharp contrast to the feverish heat radiating from both of your bodies. The city sprawls out behind you, an array of lights and buildings that seem distant and irrelevant compared to the intense connection you’re sharing with him. Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
His cock slides into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, each thrust a powerful reminder of his control over you, in both business and pleasure. The way he moves, precise and relentless, has your head spinning. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, is overwhelming, but you crave more, arching your body to meet his every thrust. The slick sounds of your bodies coming together are loud in the quiet office, accompanied only by the occasional grunt or moan escaping his lips.
Sunghoon’s eyes are dark, almost predatory, as he watches you. There’s a hint of gratification in his gaze, knowing he has you completely at his mercy. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you to the perfect angle where every thrust hits that sweet spot deep inside you. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot, and it builds with every movement, a tight coil of desire that threatens to snap at any moment.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry out, nails clawing into your boss as his hips buck ferociously, the head of his cock dragging against the bumps of your walls so perfectly. It’s like his cock was made for you and you curse your dildo for never preparing you for how intense and good this feels.
His right hand crashes against your cheek, stinging across your skin. You moan out, relishing in the feeling. The CEO just slapped you and you fucking liked it.
“Don’t swear in my office,” he demands, slapping you once more but leaving his hand there to ease the pain. He adores punishment but also soothes you straight after.
Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, the window fogging up behind you from the heat of your exertions. The cityscape outside is nothing more than a blur, your world narrowed down to the feel of his cock driving into you, the hard press of the glass against your back, and the delicious ache in your thighs as they wrap around his waist tighter.
“Such a fucking slut,” he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. “Sucking me in so good. Is this what you pictured while you fucked yourself with that pathetic excuse of a dildo? It’s nothing compared to my cock, is it?”
The words send a thrill of humiliation and arousal through you, making your cunt clench tighter around him. Of course, your toy is nothing compared to his long, thick cock. The pink dildo never hits up into your cervix like he does, and it certainly doesn’t bulge out your stomach. You didn’t think dicks like this existed except in books or porn, so to have him filling up every inch of you, is enough to send you reeling into a sex-crazed insanity.
His pace increases, thrusts becoming more forceful, and you can feel the desk beneath you shuddering with the intensity. Each stroke is a blend of pain and pleasure, reminding you that this is a punishment, a lesson you need to be taught.
You can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of sensation that starts low in your belly and radiates outward, making your toes curl and your vision blur. Sunghoon’s hands move to your ass, lifting you higher, allowing him to drive even deeper. The new angle has you crying out, the pleasure almost too intense, and you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down to stifle your screams.
The rhythm of his thrusts becomes erratic, and you know he’s close too. The thought of him losing control, even just a little, is enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you, a violent wave of pleasure that has you shaking and crying out, your walls spasming around his cock.
He wraps his hand around your neck once again, squeezing tight as he claims you, your euphoria heightening as the air struggles to filter to your lungs.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N. I want to be buried inside your tight cunt forever,” the admission throws you off balance, intensifying your high even more. His head rests on your shoulder as you grip his hair and tug at it, nodding in agreement. You never want him to leave, always attached to you in some way.
His words, raw and possessive, echo in your mind, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body. The heat between you is overwhelming, your bodies slick with sweat as the world outside the window fades away, leaving only the two of you in this feverish bubble of desire.
He follows you over the edge, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he empties himself inside you, the sensation of his hot release only prolonging your own pleasure. The feeling of his seed filling you, marking you, sends another wave of ecstasy through your body, your walls spasming around him, milking every last drop.
He stays buried deep within you, his body shuddering with the aftershocks. Even though his muscles ache from holding you up, he doesn’t let you fall, his hands gripping your throat and waist tightly. There’s an intimacy in the way he holds you, a possessiveness that speaks volumes about his intentions.
You’re both panting, the air between you thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Sunghoon’s gaze is still intense, but there’s satisfaction there now, a smug pride in knowing he’s thoroughly claimed you. He doesn’t want to say he owns you, but he definitely is never, ever letting you go.
His eyes scan your flushed face, taking in every detail, the way your lips are parted, the dazed look in your eyes, the way your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s so glad he called you yesterday and so glad you answered. This, this moment, was worth every risk, every potential consequence.
Sunghoon slowly pulls out of you, both of you wincing at the loss of connection. He carefully sets you down, your legs shaky as they touch the floor. You lean against the window for support, your body still tingling from the overwhelming pleasure.
“I’ll clean you up and then we need to go to the meeting. My notes?” He asks, the CEO persona in him slipping back into focus almost effortlessly.
“In the L drive of your computer,” you mumble, exhaustion taking over. He fucked you so good all you feel is relaxation in your spent body. You almost forget you have a whole day’s work to complete.
Sunghoon kneels to your limp body, caressing your face gently. “I’ll get you a coffee on the way there, I need you to be alert.” He leans close, his fingers dipping between your sore folds, gathering your mixed juices and plugging them back inside of you. “And you better be ready, I also think I lost the file for your appraisal.”
You shiver, knowing exactly what that means - your sins are far from over...
perm tag: @immortalvee , @snoopypupp, @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
too sweet 𐙚 abby anderson
a/n: smut!! fingering & oral (r|receiving), implied strap usage // men & minors dni!
imagine being a fem little girlblogger in all of your free time. always at the library, or a local coffee shop, leeching off of the free wifi just to make girly posts on tumblr. the pretty blonde barista stands nervously behind the counter, glancing up at you every now and then.
abby writes her number on your cup that day, and keeps her phone within earshot so she can be the first to hear the beautiful ding of your phone texting hers.
you talk, and talk, and talk, and eventually you're texting so much you don't have any time for your girlblog. you know how much you love being girly and creative and how easy it is to do it online, so you offer to stop by the cafe so when abby clocks out you can leave together.
something about being so feminine around such a boulder of a woman makes you clench around nothing all night, until abby finally clocks out.
on the drive to her little apartment, you can't help but rub your thighs together, trying not to alert abby to the growing wet spot in your panties. you chew on your lip, hoping for a moment of peace as abby pulls into her parking spot.
if abby noticed, she never gave you any indication of it.
inside, abby presses a heavy kiss on your lips before she changes and settles into the couch. you feel the throbbing in your cunt grow heavier, louder, as she casually spreads out on the couch.
"coming?" she asks, and you can't help inwardly shrink at the double entendre.
there is a lazy, bored smirk pulling at her lips as you sit beside her, clearly worked up and just begging for relief.
"what's on your mind?" she questions, as if unaware of the flush of your cheeks and the heat radiating from you. she flicks through netflix boringly.
you shrug, words failing as that incessant clench of your cunt around nothing nearly chokes you. you manage to whisper, "just thinking."
"about?"
the glint in her eyes sparks something deep within you—in a place only she's ever touched. no way were you going to let her win this easy.
"i haven't blogged a lot recently, i might have to stop at the cafe tomorrow, too."
"are you sure its for the blog?" she raises a brow. "i think i saw your eyes on me more than your computer screen."
"so why don't you do something about it, anderson?"
"cause i think i want to hear you say it first." she drops one of her hands to your thighs. she grasps a handful of the flesh and squeezes it before smoothing your skin flat
"i-" she squeezes your thigh again, tight, before her fingers drift higher. you swallow hard.
she drops her head so that her lips are right by your ear. "if you say it i'll fuck you right here."
"i want you to. please." you sound desperate as you finally answer.
"want me to what?" the tips of her fingers ghost along the apex of your thighs. your throat tightens.
you inhale sharply as she puts pressure right above your clit. she removes it as soon as a wave of pleasure fills your belly. "jesus, abby. i want you to fuck me."
her lips ghost your earlobe before she begins placing soft kisses along the side of your face, your cheek, your lips, your neck. as she trails lower, she slides further down the couch. your breath catches in your throat as she presses your back against the arm of the couch.
"that's all you had to say, baby. wasn't that hard, right?"
you shake your head desperately, shimmying your pants to your ankles as she settles her thick hands on your thighs. you nearly choke at the sight of abby already splitting you open just by being in between your legs.
she squeezes your thigh in reassurance before her tongue ghosts your panty-covered core. you whine. it's so good, but nowhere near enough for you. she kitten licks your cunt once more before she flattens her tongue against you. her hands hook under your ass, thumbs pressing your inner thighs away from your heat.
with one finger, she pulls your ruined panties to the side, almost marveling at the sight of you dripping before her.
she wastes no time before diving in, tongue exploring and caressing every fold and crevice of your hot mound. you can't help but whine and moan, can't hold it in anymore. you've been pent up all day, you and abby know it isn't going to be much more before your first orgasm.
she pulls your hips impossibly closer to her face just as she dips her tongue into your dripping hole. a heavy moan rips through you as she works the thick muscle in and out again. her nose rubs up against your clit so perfectly you thread your fingers through her hair.
she groans as you tug her hair, the sound reverberating through your cunt. you moan again, bucking your hips against her.
when she removes her tongue from you, you feel the pad of her middle finger press against your warmth. she circles your clit with her tongue as she slides her finger in.
she works it in slowly as you tug harder at her hair. she lets you grind into her face, whimpering and whining for the release you've wanted all day.
"such a good girl waiting for me, asking me so nicely." abby mutters, hardly able to take her mouth off your pussy long enough to get the sentence out.
you moan sharply as she presses another finger into you. "please, abby—" she works the two in and out of you, feeling your walls clench tight on her.
"so fucking wet for me."
you can't find it in you to but do anything but sob as she sucks on your clit and curls her fingers deep in you. you are so, so close. you could see stars behind your eyes and feel the heat of your climax as she pounds into your sensitive spot.
"my pretty girl." and you nearly break.
you come with a shout, abby's hand never stopping, her tongue still on your clit. you buck your hips against her and ride out every delicious wave of pleasure that hits you until you ache and have to wrap your hand around abby's to get her to stop pounding into you.
"so fucking pretty, baby." abby leaves sloppy kisses against your thighs, cleaning your release with her tongue before catching you in a soft kiss, still tasting of you. "c'mon, open up, pretty."
her wet fingers press against your lips and you open your mouth for her, letting her slip her fingers inside. you lick yourself off her fingers, savoring the weight of her on your tongue, the taste of you.
as she leans forward and presses her covered cunt against yours, you feel a bulge tickle your clit.
"are you thinking what i'm thinking?" she asks teasingly, pulling her fingers from your mouth.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Fast Car Chapter One (of four)
Masterpost
Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian.
It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.
Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.
Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery.
“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over.
He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over.
In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing.
He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”
“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”
Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.
‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre.
He had the sense that Victor was tense.
‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’
Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.”
Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease.
Danny waited a moment.
Victor cocked his head at him.
“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.
There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt.
“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car.
Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.
They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.
“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”
Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’
Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”
“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.
He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.
He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry.
By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind.
The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.
He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.
Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.
His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.
‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”
He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”
Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.
Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.
997 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cherry Pie
A wondering happy birthday to my sweet Cherry @soapsgf who wanted some soft and sweet romantic smut with big dicked Simon. This one's for you, darling <33
Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader (Cherry)
Summary: It's been a while since you've been intimate with a partner, and Simon takes good care of you.
CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, consent checks, first time between partners, big dick Simon, unprotected piv, creampie
Word Count: 4.2k :))))
Simon was your first partner after a long, long stint of failed dates. You’d met him by chance, out one night with a group of friends when you’d bumped into a solid mass of muscle walking out of a bar. He’d caught you, set you right on your feet with a few words of being careful of your surroundings before seemingly melting into the shadows, despite his size.
The next morning, you’d stopped by a local cafe. The barista called your name and you grabbed your drink, spinning around quickly only to have a heavy set of hands grip you tightly. Panicking for a moment, you looked up, ready to try and fight off your attacker, when you took in the strangely familiar face.
“You’re… you…”
“That’s twice within twelve hours, sweetheart. Starting to think you’re making a habit of this.” His voice was accented, deep, and gravelly, making your hair stand on end.
“I didn’t meant to— I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine, doll. You couldn’t take me out even if you tried.” He huffed out a chortle at that and you felt your face shift into an expression of mild amusement. Then, with a surge of confidence you weren’t even aware you possessed, you met the heavy gaze of his dark eyes.
“No, but I can give you my number, and then maybe you can take me out instead.”
The man blinked, the smile still ghosting on his cheeks as he tilted his head, watching you. Suddenly, it felt like he was scrutinising every aspect of your appearance and you ducked your head, feeling your face heat.
“Ah forget it, sorry, I just—” You’d moved to exit the cafe, but a firm arm wrapped around your waist.
“I’ll take you up on that offer, if it’s still on the table.” Blinking in surprise, you looked up at him. One corner of his lips was twitched up into a smirk, his brow slightly raised and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a grin as you nodded.
“Name’s Simon.” He told you as you quickly scribbled your number on a piece of paper. As you handed it to him, he opened in and frowned slightly. “No name?”
“Take me on that date, Simon, and you might be lucky enough to get it.” The smile that broke out on his face made your stomach flip, and somehow you knew this was the start of something.
•
Several months down, you and Simon had settled into a steady routine. Whenever he was back from deployment, he slotted himself neatly into your life, as if he hadn’t missed a beat. It was refreshing, to have someone like him, someone who was willing to work through things, instead of ignoring them.
Including sex.
You’d first breached the topic with him a few months in. He’d come back from deployment and there was something about him in his gear, still sweaty and dirty from his time out. Simon had stood there, leaning against your doorframe as you’d opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up.
The look in your eyes had clearly sparked something in him, and he surged inside, kicking the door closed and pressing his mouth to yours. He steered you towards the couch pressing you against the back of it before one of his hands ran up the back of your leg roughly, hitching it around his waist.
In a moment of panic, realising where this was going, you broke the kiss, a firm hand placed in the centre of his chest. Though his brows furrowed, he acknowledged the look on your eyes, and slowly let you down. Fear bubbled inside you at the thought of possibly upsetting him, but he placed a reassuring hand on your cheek.
“It’s alright, doll. Just talk to me.”
“It’s… been a while.”
“We don’t have to do anything,” He said gently, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Not until you’re ready.”
“But you want it—” A thumb pressed against your lips, stopping your words before you could finish your sentence.
“It doesn’t matter what I want, lovie. If you’re not feeling it, or you’re not ready, I’m not going to force it.”
Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his earnest eyes and realised that, yes, he’s different from the rest.
“I still want to kiss you, though.” Your words were softly spoken, but were met with a chuckle as Simon tilted your head back, cupping your head.
“Kissing I can definitely do for you.”
•
The time came a month or so later. Simon had messaged in the early afternoon, telling you to get all dolled up and pretty because he was going to take you out for the evening. He turned up at your doorstep, dressed in cleanly pressed black pants with a black button-down shirt he’d rolled up to expose his thick forearms. You couldn’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly as he leaned against your bedroom door, watching you as you fiddled with your hair.
Turning around, you got a better look at him, allowing your eyes to unabashedly trace over his broad, thick body. Chuckling, Simon stepped forward, making his way over to you. As he stood in front of you, the soothing scent of cologne wafted over towards you. Unable to stop the sound, you let out a breathy whine and he smirked.
“See something you like, doll?” His hands slid up and down your sides before leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “Come on, we’ll be late.”
He’d made you feel spoiled, treating you to an exquisite dinner at some ridiculously fancy place. You were unable to stop your eyes flitting over to him and admiring just how damn attractive he was as the pair of you sat in the low ambient lighting of the restaurant. Finally as you were headed back home, you were struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt ready. Simon had always made you feel safe, why should this be any different?
When you arrived home, Simon knelt down, lifting one of your legs up gently to remove your shoes. Placing a soft kiss to your knee, he gently lowered it back down with a hand on the back of your calf. He repeated the process on the other leg before pushing himself up to press a kiss to your cheek. He made a move to walk away, but your hand on his wrist stopped him.
Though you didn’t talk right away, Simon stood there patiently, waiting for you to find the words.
“Simon...” You murmured trailing off as the words evaded you, choosing to flutter your lashes up at him instead. He looked at you, eyes darkened, tilting his head slightly as he calculated his next words
“What’s on your mind, doll?”
“I want you.” The words were soft, but firm. Simon, the tease that he was, lifted a brow in mock surprise.
“You want me to do what?” He smirked, staring down at you expectantly. The grip you had on his wrist tightened.
“I’m ready. And I want— no— need you to fuck me, Simon.” You could see the change in him, as if a switch had flicked over in his mind.
“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, layered thickly with desire, but still present enough to look deep into your eyes. “Need to hear those words again, pretty girl.”
“Yes, Simon,” You assured him, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily, “I want you.”
The words broke his resolve and he dove in to seal his lips against yours, moaning softly at the contact. He’d kissed you countless times before, but even you could feel the difference in this one. It was intense and heated, his hands sliding up and down your back and squeezing at your body before he quickly pulled back, panting.
“Anything that’s too much— too quick— too rough, you tell me, promise?” The gruffness made your hair stand on end, and you shivered in his arms.
“I promise, Si.” Groaning, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he nipped along the column of your throat.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good lovie, I promise.” Letting out a soft whine, you ran your hands down his chest, squeezing the soft flesh around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, pressing your hips forward. Simon’s breath hitched before he let out a growl.
“Bedroom. Now.”
The pair of you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other’s as you finally felt the doorknob and pushed it open. Having barely stepped into your room, he broke the kiss, spinning you around so he could tug down the zipper of your dress. Moaning softly, he allowed his hands to caress your bare skin as he mouthed up your neck once more. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you almost bare compared to his mostly clothed body.
He spun you around and, with frightening ease, Simon lifted you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he strode quickly over to the bed. Placing you down gently, he pushed you back so you hit the pillows. Nudging your legs apart with his thighs, he ran his hands over your legs, cupped your ass before sliding up your back.
“So fucking pretty for me.” He whispered, eyes heady as they stared down at you, hair fanning over the pillow as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to hold himself back, Simon threaded a hand through your hair, gently pinning you to the bed as he lowered his mouth to your neck once more.
Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open so you could get your hands on the glorious expanse of his chest. His skin was rough, littered with lumps from old cuts and scars, and you wanted to map every bit of it. He seemed to be doing the same to you. His large, calloused hands tracing up and down your body, worshipping every inch of skin as his mouth kissed down your chest and stomach.
“Lemme taste that pretty pussy of yours.”
Pulling up, he lifted your hips and tugged your underwear off, before pausing, eyes drawn down to the drenched fabric. Running a thumb over it, you watched as his face pulled into a smirk before he tucked the panties into the pocket of his slacks.
“Still feeling alright, lovie?” A brow was raised in question as he looked at you, fingers tapping on your hip as he waited for a response.
“Yeah. Please.” Reaching for his hands, you squeezed them gently, causing him to let out a chuckle.
“Good girl.”
Settling down between your legs, he pushed them apart before dragging his tongue up your wet slit and moaning as he did so. It was wet, messy, and sloppy, but god it felt good to have someone tonguing your pussy like they knew how to.
Drawing your lip between your teeth, you cut off a moan that was threatening to break free when Simon pulled away to stare up at you.
“None of that now, doll. Let me hear you. All of you.” He grunted, sealing his mouth back over your cunt with determination. As he moaned, the vibrations ran through you, making you shiver and gasp. Hearing the sound of your breath hitching, he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you harder against his mouth. That action made a moan break from you, hands threading through the short, blonde hair as he ravished you.
It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar, toe-curling feeling you’d only been able to give yourself and your breathing change, morphing into soft pants and pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair. Instead of changing his rhythm like you’d had other partners do, Simon kept the same, allowing you to press and roll your hips over his mouth and you needed to find the right spot.
When you did, your whole body twitched as you let out a moan, arching your back as your legs shook. Simon practically growled into your cunt, eyes flashing open to stare up at you, taking in every slight reaction you gave him. Looking down, you stared into his eyes, dark and hungry which caused your stomach to flip.
Brows drawing together, your body shivered and you reached down to grip one of his hands as your mouth dropped open as you felt your orgasm wash over you with a cry of his name. Simon grunted, letting out a moan of his own and held you tight to his mouth as you climaxed.
Breathing heavily, you groaned softly, pushing at his head, but he refused to move, mouth moving down so the ridge of his nose pressed against your clit as he tongued your cunt. He pressed a thumb to the hood of your clit, flicking over it as his other hand kept tight hold of your leg, pressing his tongue deep into you.
Groaning at your taste, he didn’t stop until he felt your walls shaking around his tongue and your hands tugged more viciously at his hair as you moaned loudly. Managing to get your foot into his shoulder, you shoved him back, looking down to see his smug grin, chin wet and shining with your slick.
“Still good, lovie?” Though his face was feral, his voice was soft and questioning. Choking out a laugh, you clapped a hand over your eyes.
“Yeah… just… fuck.” He hummed in approval, pushing himself up to slide up next to you, his hand tracing lightly up your thigh.
“Need a break?” The smug grin was back as he looked down at you, earning him a slap to the chest.
“No, but I can help you—” Before you could even begin to reach down for his trousers, he gripped your hand and pinned it above your head.
“No need, pretty girl. This is about you.”
“But you—” He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as you tasted yourself on his lips. Tracing a hand over your chin, he pulled away, looking down at you.
“This is about you.” He repeated, with more sincerity. “For you, at your pace. Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” The reply was quick your mouth, barely before he’d even finished the question. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his hand gripped your hip.
“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, hand moving to trail his fingers between your legs. Circling your clit slowly, he breathed soft words of praise into your ear as you whined for him, rolling your hips to meet his rough digits.
“Look at you. So soft for me. So pliant. You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you? Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna make it so good for you.”
As if it were the easiest thing for him, he brought you closer to another orgasm. You could feel the heat coiling in your gut as he kept rubbing over the sensitive bud, pinning your legs apart with his.
“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. Let me see everything. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel, how wet you are for me.”
“Simon…” Your back arched, hand reaching out to grip his body for support. He drew you into his chest, fingers unrelenting between your legs as he held you against the firmness of his chest, covered by a soft layer of fat. Tipping your head back on his shoulder, you gasped out another moan as you came yet again.
“Fuck yes. My good girl. Look so pretty when you come for me like that. Gonna finger you now, yeah? Stretch that tight cunt out nice for me.”
Mewling in his arms, you turned your head, shaking it slightly.
“Cock, Simon. Want your cock.”
“I know you do, greedy girl. But patience for me, yeah?”
“No!” Whining, you pressed your hips back against his. Letting out a huff, Simon moved quickly. Pushing you down onto the bed, he nestled himself between your legs, dress shirt crumpled as your eyes trained down to the swelling bulge in his pants. Smirking, he raised a brow.
“Yeah, pretty girl. That’s why. Gimme your hand.” Grabbing your wrist, he pulled it down so your palm was pressed against his crotch and he thrust his hips forward. Squeezing your hand around him, you took in the full weight and thickness of his cock, and swallowed thickly.
“Fuck you’re big.” You blinked your eyes up to him, and the corner of his lips twitched into a wider smile.
“Exactly, my pretty doll. Need to make sure you’re all nice and lax for me. Need to get that pretty cunt all soaked and messy before you even think about getting my cock.”
Releasing your wrist, he turned his attention back to your pussy, where one of his thick fingers circled your entrance, collecting your slick. Smirking darkly, he leaned down and spat directly on your cunt, making you jerk and moan at the feeling. Spreading his saliva, he plunged his finger into you, and the pair of you moaned in sync.
He was a vision between your legs. Still mostly clothed, but looked debauched with his shirt pulled open and the sleeves rolled up. The black ink on his tattooed forearm rippled as he thrust his fingers into you. Grunting, his jaw clenched as his eyes were trained on your pussy, watching the wetness soak his finger.
“Look at you, so fucking eager for it. Can feel you clenching around me. Think you can fit another finger?” Without much preamble, he slid in a second finger with a low breath. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. God, you feel so good. Can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy round my dick.”
Squirming underneath him, you clung to the sheets, keeping your legs spread for him as your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure.
“Fuck, Simon… oh my god.” The erotic, slick sound of his fingers entering your cunt repeatedly filled your ears. Panting, you reached out a hand and gripped his shirt.
“No no no, not done yet. You’re getting another in you. Come on, pretty thing. You can do it, you can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, yeah?”
You couldn’t resist. Between the sound of his voice, the way he pinned you so easily against him, the way his fingers curled inside of you…
A third finger pressed at your entrance and you sucked in a breath, eyes flashing open as you stared into his eyes. The fist you had clenched in his shirt tightened, pulling him down as you grit your teeth. Simon lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours as the third finger slowly pressed in.
A guttural moan broke from your throat at the burn of the stretch, but also from the orgasm that he pulled out of you. Swearing, Simon grunted, his fingers plunging into you a little faster as he took advantage of your climax.
“Good girl. Fuck, look at you. Shit, the sounds you’re making…” His voice cracked as he moaned, breathing turning shaky as you writhed in his arms, pussy pulsing around his fingers.
With a low growl, Simon pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he yanked his belt off with one hand and pushed his pants down. Gathering yourself enough, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. As his cock sprang out from his underwear, you let out a shocked gasp, eyes widening as you took in his cock.
It was long and thick, with a ruddy head. His balls hung heavy, making you shift your legs wider in anticipation. The action wasn’t missed on Simon, and he grinned hungrily. Spitting on his hand, he used the combination of your slick and his saliva to pump his cock as he ripped at his shirt, pulling it open so you could admire his soft belly.
The main that left your lips was whiny and pathetic as you stared between his gorgeous body and that glorious cock of his.
“Simon please… fuck please don’t tease me.”
“Believe me, doll. Couldn’t tease you right now even if I wanted to. Need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me now.”
Shuffling forward onto the bed, he settled between your legs, tapping the flushed head of his cock on your sensitive clit, making you jerk.
“You sure you want it, sweetheart? Last chance to back out before I’m filling your tight little cunt.” With your chest heaving, you looked up at him through your lashes.
“Fuck me, Simon Riley. And don’t you dare pull out.”
The look on his face turned feral as he hauled you closer, lining his cock up with your wet entrance before pressing in. Your mouth parted wide, but no sound came out as the burning stretch of his cock overtook your senses. Simon let out choked off grunts, fingers clutching into the sheets as he slowly pressed into you.
Shallowly thrusting, he sunk deeper and his hand moved to cup the top of your head, rubbing affectionately before he finally managed to sink in all the way with a low groan.
“I know it’s big, I know. Doing so well for me, takin’ it so nicely.” Resting his forehead against yours, Simon inhaled deeply before opening his eyes, staring down at your face. His expression softened as he reached down to wipe a stray tear with his thumb, caressing your cheekbone in the process
“Simon!” You mewled, rocking your hips as your walls clenched, the initial stretch of his cock slowly fading and the need for more slowly rose in you. However, before you could get a rhythm going, a firm hand pressed onto your hip, halting all movement and you blinked your eyes open.
Above you, Simon’s eyes were squeezed shut with his brows pinched together. His breath was coming out in short pants as sweat beaded on his brow. Frowning, you went to push yourself up to talk to him, but the movement made him release a choked off moan and both of his hands clamped down on your hips, effectively pinning you to him.
“Don’t— fuck— don’t fucking move.” His voice was rough, on edge as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh surrounding your hips. “Jesus fuck, you’re gripping me tight. Don’t— don’t think I’m gonna last.”
Reaching out, you gripped his strong bicep and squeezed lightly.
“It’s okay. Just fuck me Simon please!”
He didn’t need any further prompting. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Simon began to shift his hips forward, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly.
“I know, princess, I know.” His voice was hoarse as he ground himself deep into you, the rough hairs on the base of his cock brushing pleasurably against your clit as he circled his hips.
“My pretty girl,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, almost whispering the words to you, “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good, lovie. So tight around me.”
Moaning your assent for him to continue and dragging your nails down his chest, nails that he’d paid for, he finally snapped. Lifting your hips, he angled you how he wanted, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders as he began to fuck into you. It felt like the wind was being punched out of your body with every thrust, but you couldn’t stop yourself crying out with every stretch of his cock.
“Simon… god fuck! Please, need it.”
“Fuck, baby I know. I know you do. Feel so fucking good. So fucking tight and wet around me.” Groaning, he pushed forward, placing a hand next to your head as he folded your body and thrust into you hard. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, using it to anchor yourself as you moved your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts, moaning like you were being paid for it.
“Pretty girl… so pretty on my cock… feels like fucking heaven.” He grunted, panting as he kept his eyes fixed to your face, watching every subtle shift of pleasure that etched itself onto your expression.
“Need to fill you. Make you mine.” His voice was becoming ragged and airy, signalling how close he was to his release.
“I am yours, Simon. Only yours.” Whispering into his ear, you clenched your walls around his cock, making the pace of his thrusts stutter as you felt your final orgasm of the evening get pulled from your lax body, making you gasp breathlessly.
“Oh shit.” Simon moaned, voice cracking as your walls fluttered around him. He grunted, hand gripping onto your hip as he slammed his cock deep into you once, twice before you felt his cock kick inside of you, and he came, his warmth filling you. Lowering his head, he rested it into the crook of your neck as his warm breath fanned over your skin.
It took several minutes before either of you were coherent again. Simon was first, slowly pulling out of you, rolling you over so he could nestle behind you, holding you against his body.
“My good girl. My sweet little cherry.” Soft kisses trailed down the back of your neck as he hummed softly, contentedly, his heart beating steadily against you. This was perfect, you thought, and you couldn’t be happier.
Happy Birthday to you xx
#crash writes#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#ghost x reader#ghost smut#call of duty smut#ghost cod
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).
heart to heart.
ln x fem!reader
in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.
oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3
songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco
warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader
1.4k words
you’ve been friends for years.
sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.
you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.
“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.
“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.
“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.
“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.
you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.
pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.
“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.
“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.
time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.
“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.
“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.
“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”
and he does.
you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.
“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.
two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.
lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.
“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.
you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.
“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”
“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.
“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.
“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.
“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.
“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.
“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.
“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.
finally.
“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.
“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.
shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.
you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.
“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.
“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.
“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.
the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.
but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.
“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.
he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.
when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.
you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.
“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”
“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.
“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.
-
i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops
-
taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane
removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris oneshot#f1#f1 smut#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#f1 fic#lando norris fic#my requests#writing things#ask#anon#formula 1 smut#formula one smut#formula 1 fic#formula one fic#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 fanfic#f1blr
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii I’m loving Thawing out so far and this is kind of a bland request but I feel like it would be cute if Remus shows up to practice late one time and when he gets there reader and Sirius are working on like footwork or anything else really but they’re just so much isync together and he’s just staring at them in awe. Anyways it’s totally up to you if you want to use that and where you want to put it but yeah :)
Thank you lovely!! And everyone say thank you to Elle for her genius "Pads" idea ;)
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12
cw: modern au, chronic pain, implicit mention of traumatic injury, blasphemous and untrue comments about Sirius' butt
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words
Sirius is a few minutes late to pick you up the next morning. A few more and you would’ve assumed he overslept, texted him to meet you at the rink, but Remus doesn’t make one comment about it. It seems that, like you, he finds that quips at Sirius’ expense aren’t as much fun when he’s not around to gripe at you for them.
When Sirius does come it’s with drinks, one in each hand and a third nestled in between his elbow and his side. He had to have gotten to the coffee shop only about the same time as the baristas if he’s getting them to you this early. You plant a kiss on his cheek, reading the meaning behind the gift, the apology he won’t say aloud. It’s quite the sacrifice for him to wake up that extra bit earlier. By the way Remus’ eyes soften as he takes his drink, he reads it, too.
Of course, once you set off the teasing commences.
“Do you not own a scarf?” Remus asks, eyeing Sirius’ wind-flushed cheeks. “Or a proper coat?”
“Oh, don’t come for his jacket.” You grin at him. “He’ll lose all his cool points if he trades that in.”
“I can either look good, or I can be warm,” Sirius says stiffly, though you can tell by his expression he isn’t truly offended. “You can’t have both.”
Remus doesn’t hesitate. “I’d rather be warm. You look like you have ice crystals forming on your nose.”
Sirius huffs. “Can I smoke now?”
“No,” you say primly. Remus appears to be hiding a grin.
Sirius rubs the bottom of his nose and lets the two of you rag on him all the way to the rink.
Practice is the same steady improvement, except for the death spiral. Remus is letting you grasp Sirius’ hands with both of yours for now, but you’re not bending your knee enough and Sirius’ leg is too far back. You haven’t even begun to tackle the jump you’re supposed to be launched into afterwards yet. But Remus is patient with you, and Sirius is more receptive to feedback than he has been since Peter. With the rest of your routine going so well, you’ve got time to perfect this one thing.
You’re whipping out of one of your other turns when a particular sort of smile breaks out over Sirius’ face. It’s one you know well, reserved only for one person. You don’t even need to look as he starts skating towards the edge of the rink.
“James,” you say, following him, “what’re you doing here so early?”
“I was given very strict instructions to make up for what happened yesterday.” James holds out a paper bag to Sirius, wrestling him into a hug. “It seemed best to comply.”
“I hope your gift comes with an excuse,” you tease, though when it’s your turn you hug him too. You love having James around. He brightens everything he looks at, especially Sirius.
“Well, it was Cam’s birthday,” James says as he squishes you to his front, “and he had to pick his mum up from the airport during our usual practice time. But my main excuse is that I didn’t realize it was yours we were stealing.”
Trust James to disrupt his entire team’s practice—and yours—for one guy’s birthday.
“You’re not forgiven,” says Sirius, popping a doughnut hole into his mouth. He sounds too pleased for his grudge to be even a little believable. “We couldn’t practice at all yesterday because of you.”
“Alright, then I’ll just have those back.”
Sirius moves quick to keep the doughnuts away from James, though he does hold one out to you.
“Mm, as I suspected,” James hums. “Anyway, I have to arrange practice for twenty three guys. You only have two, and from what I just saw you hardly need it.”
“Three,” you correct him. “But you haven’t met our new coach. This is—”
“Remus!”
James is looking over your shoulder, where Remus has come over from his spot at the bleachers to join you. You blink in surprise, but Sirius does a full double-take.
“Do you know each other?”
“Yeah.” Both boys are smiling, Remus faintly and James with his whole face, as usual. “Rem and I used to practice at the same time. Back when I would come out before the team to run drills.”
“A long time ago,” Remus agrees. A sympathetic bit of worry starts up in your chest, but he doesn’t have that same melancholic hue to his voice that he usually gets on the rare occasions someone gets him to talk about his skating career. He sounds almost nostalgic.
“Surprised I never ran into you,” Sirius says. He’s eyeing Remus, a familiar sort of possessiveness in his stance. You see Remus’ eyebrow lift like he notices it too.
“Wow.” James is still beaming. You’re beginning to feel inclined to follow suit. You already like Remus, but James’ stamp of approval means everything to Sirius. You’d like to see him try to hate your coach now. “When you said you got the best of the best, you really weren’t kidding, were you?”
You nod. “I told you.”
Remus’ cheeks start to pinken, and your smile becomes irrepressible.
“Right,” Remus mutters. “We’re losing practice time here. The doughnuts will be there when you get off the ice.”
“Well, they might.” James finally succeeds in stealing the bag away from Sirius, popping a squat on the bench. “I may feel inclined to snack while I watch. You don’t mind if I sit in on practice, do you?”
“No, of course not,” you say.
It wouldn’t make any sense for him to leave only to come back in half an hour when his practice begins. Plus, you know that no matter how many times Sirius skates in front of him, neither James’ wonderment nor the gratification Sirius gets from it ever wear off.
James whoops and hollers when either of you land even the simplest of jumps, and you see the two boys chatting behind the plexiglass. You see Sirius seeing them, too, his expression conflicted as he watches how well they get along.
Unbeknownst to either of you, Remus and James are watching you both with nearly equal amounts of awe, despite the fact that one of them has won heaps of gold medals in figure skating and the other couldn’t do an arabesque without falling on his face.
“God,” says James, watching you and Sirius go through the simple footwork leading up to your spin sequence, “they are good.”
“They are,” Remus agrees in a soft voice. His eyes are pinned to each of you, not analytical for once but simply appreciative. You and Sirius are art in motion. “They’re so in sync with each other, it’s incredible. I could have never done that with someone.”
He feels the weight of James’ gaze when the other boy looks at him sideways. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to hear from me after you left, but I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened.”
“It’s fine, it’s hardly your fault.” The response comes easily to Remus’ tongue, a particular sort of muscle memory, well practiced during the months of grief following his injury. “Thank you, though.”
“Is it nice to be back?”
“Yeah, actually. I didn’t think it would be, but they’ve been good to work with.” Remus doesn’t know precisely what lulls the honesty out of him, but James has always had this effect. Even when they were little more than acquaintances, he felt like he could tell him anything. “They’re amazing to watch, and they…well they keep me on my toes.”
James laughs. “I bet they do.”
A comfortable silence descends over the two boys. They only watch you, your jumps and spins and the natural, effortless way you flow around each other on the ice. That is, until Sirius falls on his ass.
He hits the ice hard enough that you can hear the oof he makes upon contact. You skid to a halt immediately, sliding onto your knees beside him.
“Did you hit your head?” you ask him, slipping your palm beneath his skull to feel around.
Sirius only groans an elongated, passionate, “Fuck,” and rolls onto his side.
“Sirius,” you say more urgently. “What did you hurt?”
“Did he hit his head?” You look over to see Remus standing in the entryway to the rink. He looks like he’s contemplating coming out on the ice.
“No,” Sirius finally answers you both, loud enough that Remus and James can hear. “Just my ass.”
“That’s alright then,” James calls back. “It was flat to begin with.”
Sirius sits up to glare at him, a smile tugging at his lips. He rubs his tailbone.
“Asshole,” you mumble, nudging his shoulder gently. “You scared me.”
“I fucking scared me, I thought I broke something. That hurt.”
“Am I going to have to get you pads like an amateur?” Remus asks as he steps out of the entryway, silently encouraging you both off the ice. James lets out a riotous bark of laughter.
“Oh my god, please do,” he begs Remus as you both skate over to them. “It would be so fun to watch him compete at the Olympics in those.”
“Who invited you anyway?” Sirius gripes. The effect is lessened when he winces upon sitting down.
Remus rolls his eyes and passes him the bag of doughnuts. “Make sure to ice it, Pads.”
You turn your face towards the skates you’re unlacing to hide your smile, but James makes no such effort. His booming laughter will probably echo through the rink for years to come.
Sirius makes sure you get your fair share of the doughnuts. They don’t even make it out of the rink with you.
“That was interesting,” you say, tossing the empty bag into the trash as Sirius holds the door open for you. “Funny that they already knew each other. James seems to really like him.”
Sirius frowns. “Apparently.”
“Probably makes you think, huh?”
“Shut up.”
#poly!wolfstar olympic au#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar x fem!reader#poly!wolfstar x y/n#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar x self insert#poly!wolfstar fanfiction#poly!wolfstar fanfic#poly!wolfstar fic#poly!wolfstar series#poly!wolfstar enemies to lovers#poly!wolfstar fluff#poly!wolfstar imagine#poly!wolfstar scenario#poly!wolfstar drabble#poly!wolfstar blurb#poly!wolfstar oneshot#poly!wolfstar one shot#remus lupin x sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x sirius black x reader#wolfstar x reader#sirius black#remus lupin#figure skater!sirius#figure skater!reader#coach!remus
506 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sundress Season - S.R
a/n: spent all friday & saturday writing so sorry 4 dumping so many works 2night lololol
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: spencer decides to come help you out with some research and gets a little more than he bargained for
warnings: fluff, thigh kink if you SQUINT LIKE SQUINT
wc: 0.9k
You crossed one leg over the other, your nails drumming against the table, while your eyes bored holes into the book that lay open in your lap. You loved reading, more than most people, but when it was something you were interested in, not when the pages were smeared with the arcane symbols of mathematical algorithms that you could not seem to comprehend. It was giving you a migraine.
At the call of your name, your head lifted abruptly, a welcome excuse the cast aside the loathsome book, expecting your coffee to be awaiting you at the counter. You weren't, however, expecting to see Spencer standing there. Your brows knitted together in a moment of confusion before you face relaxed into a warm, welcoming smile.
"Spence? Hey, what are you doing here?"
"JJ said you were researching the neural network algorithms," Spencer said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement as he pulled out the chair across from you. "I figured I could lend a hand."
“Oh, bless your heart, Dr. Reid,” you praised, hand dramatically pressed to your heart, “I could kiss you.”
The subtle rosiness that blossomed on Reid’s cheeks didn’t escape your notice, and you couldn’t deny the small thrill of saying things designed to elicit the delightful blush. It was cute.
“May I?” he asks, gesturing towards the book, ignoring your words.
You give a nod and pass it over, his fingers brushing over yours in the process. It was hard not to stare at his face, admittedly, your scientific knowledge (or any knowledge) didn’t rival his, yet surely there was some explanation for why you found him so attractive.
You watched, curiously, as he made quick work of the pages, absorbing the information with the ease of a child flipping through a picture book. Maybe that was it—his intelligence, now that wasn’t far off. I mean, who didn’t want a man who could effortlessly recite pi to the hundredth decimal?
You found yourself following the lines of his face— from the subtle shadows under his eyes to the rhythmic movement of his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he concentrated, down to the soft dip of his lips. God, he was so beautiful. And even that term barely did him justice.
Your blatant starring was broken only when you realized his lips were moving.
“Yeah, totally,” you said, bobbing your head in agreement, clueless to his actual words but hoping you said the right thing.
He regarded you with a puzzled glance, his brow raised while carefully marking his place in the book. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely.”
That famous, gorgeous smile of his spread across his face as his eyes darted around the coffee shop. His fingers patted his cheek thoughtfully in silent, teasing challenge.
“Wait, what?”
“The issue was with adjusting the weight initialization to prevent the vanishing gradient problem,” he remarked with an easy shrug. “Seems like the perfect time for that well-deserved kiss.”
His words sent a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks. Was he serious? You decided you didn’t care. Rising just enough to meet him, you cupped his face and planted a sloppy kiss against his cheek. As your drew back, you couldn’t help but delight in the sight of his ears, now tinted with a charming blush of red.
The intimate bubble burst as the barista’s voice rang out, announcing that your coffee was, in fact, prepared at last. You tapped his nose lightly before standing fully. “My hero.”
Spencer watched with a slack jaw as you walked away from the table, his eyes drawn to your thighs. The air seemed to escape him in a rush, his gaze locked on your outfit, now fully revealed as you stood up. He was so used to seeing you in dress pants, he’d never seen you in a dress, a sundress at that.
He was already burning from the feeling of your lips on his cheek but now it was spreading through every part of him as he traced your curves before landing once again on your supple thighs. God, you were beautiful, and that ass—
He was on the cusp of entertaining some rather less-than-holy ideas when the shrill ring of his phone intervened. He mentally berated the caller, wishing to preserve every detail of your image in his mind. Morgan. Naturally.
He swiped deftly at the phone, realizing it was FaceTime. Morgan’s head filled the screen, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in Spencer’s appearance.
“Morning, lover boy.”
Spencer was unsure what he meant. “Huh?”
Morgan simply flicked his cheek with a smirk. “Looks like ya missed a spot, hot stuff.”
Spencer’s face warmed with a fresh flush, hastily angling the phone away, his fingers working to erase the lipstick stain.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up, man! You on a hot date or something? C’mon, Reid, who’s the lucky lady?”
Once assured his skin was free of the pink evidence, Spencer lifted the phone again. He didn’t get a chance to ask Morgan’s reason for calling, as your face appeared behind him, curiously glancing at the phone.
“Oh, hey Morgan!”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “No way! You’re kidding me! Penelope is going to freak—,”
His words were cut short as Spencer swiftly hung up.
#spender reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds x you#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic
977 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay hear me out: should I buy a car
#i was just thinking about how much i miss driving and how i’ve never had a car of my own#and ngl being able to actually physically drive myself places would be a huge help lol#right now i am relying on the goodwill of family; friends; neighbours & coworkers; as well as the public transport system of the north east#which is.. to put it nicely NOT RELIABLE#like girl the amount of times i have been stranded in completely random places is just baffling. i once intentionally got on the wrong train#just to go SOMEWHERE because my own train never showed up#another time i was standing at a very legitimate bus stop watching bus times appear and disappear on my app and just thinking ‘where the#FUCK am i going and when’. I WAS TRYING TO GET TO A CONFERENCE#i don’t foresee any conferences in my future considering that i am a barista. but like. i work in a remote place.. i need a reliable way to#get there that doesn’t involve fleecing the people i care about#my hang-ups are 1) driving scares me 2) i haven’t driven in 5 years (because driving scares me) so therefore 3) insurance premiums will be#through the roof. i’m 27 years old so they might not want an arm AND a leg but they’ll definitely want an arm#plus 4) the car itself will be expensive and 5) i don’t know shit about cars. like i know how to drive one i think. and i know where stuff#is in theory. i know how to put petrol in it and i think i mostly remember how to check the oil and water levels#but FIXING it? fixing a flat tire? diagnosing strange noises? upping tire pressure??? i do not know about these things#i also highkey don’t want to rock up to the dealership with my family and have them talk over me and pick a car for me#but what else is going to happen?? I CAN’T GET TO THE DEALERSHIP MYSELF BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE A CARRRR#it’s kind of crazy honestly that these are my only barriers. like i’m ALLOWED to buy a car and drive it as well. wild.#anyway i might go on facebook marketplace and see if anyone is trying to sell a car#personal
0 notes
Text
sunlight kisses and featherlight touches
inspired by this request
re2!leon x fem!reader
summary: leons kindness has always been abused. in so many eyes, he's still a naive rookie who doesn't know better. he figures his life would always be that way until he met you...the barista who worked at the smoothie place down the street from his base.
tags: tooth-rotting fluff, a little post re2, non-canon, leon is hopelessly in love, krauser mentioned, mentions of bruises and scars, over worried reader, friends to lovers (?), established relationship, promise rings, virginity loss, insecure reader/reassuring leon, smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it ya'll)
word count: 5.8k (srry i got carried away)
there was one word to describe him. he was simply a gentleman, kind and soft. his manners were sharp as a knife and he knew how to take orders like any other good cop. though, his kindness and sweet smile were looked down upon.
others figured him weak and easy to step on, but in a way he was. he hated talking back, and he hated disappointing people, that’s why he always put himself on the line for others. which is how he got a bullet scar on his left shoulder. he is willing to do that just because that’s how he was raised.
but when is he going to start putting himself before others?
when is he going to forget the hole that is left in his heart?
it was you. you were the answer to his every question. his every doubt and his every want. the minute your eyes met his baby blue ones there was an instant connection. he had a small cut on his cheek and another on his lip.
you smiled up at him with a gleam in your eyes, leaning over the counter enthusiastically as you greeted him to take down his order. Leon didn’t really favor fruity drinks but he began to like them because of you. well, he only got them to see you.
over a few weeks, he slowly memorized your work schedule at the small cafe and would walk in at the beginning of your shift. you’d greet him with the same smile every time, you knew his order by heart, and you knew the sound of his footsteps by memory.
slowly, he was beginning to make more time in his day to go and see you. his visits were prolonged, he’d take his drink and go to sit down in the corner of the small cafe just so he could watch you work.
he’d lean his head onto his hand, slowly sipping away at the smoothie in his hands as he watched you bounce around. every now and then, you would trail your gaze back over to him and shoot him a warm smile.
seeing him sitting there watching you intently made your heart flutter but it also made you terribly nervous. you were constantly fixing your hair and checking in your pocket mirror to make sure you looked okay for the blonde in the corner.
you tried so hard not to look at him so often but how could you? he was looking at you so deeply with those blue eyes of his. he sat right by the large window, where the sun could perfectly cascade down onto him.
his blonde hair would begin to glow on his head like an angel's halo, shadows cast down onto his sharp features, and the sun glinting off his perfectly white teeth. how can anyone be so beautiful?
at the end of your shift, he’d walk you home. ignoring the ache in his muscles with each step. there he goes again, risking his health for someone. but it wasn’t just anyone, it was you. he was willing to walk beside you even if his legs were broken.
but his winces of pain didn’t escape your ears.
“Leon, are you hurt?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks and placing two hands on his shoulders. he shook his head, his blonde hair sweeping over his forehead.
“no, no, i’m fine just sore.” he shot you a smile to reassure you but you weren’t convinced.
it’s not like you couldn’t see the bruises on his skin when he’d walk in or the new cuts appearing on his arms and face every other week. you were worried. who in God's name was hurting him like that?
you’ve asked a few times but he shrugged it off with excuses like, ‘i was wrestling with my friend’’, the neighbor's cat got to him’, or ‘he fell’. when in reality he was being trained to become one of the best government agents of all time.
“i don’t believe you, sit.” you demanded him. he shook his head, refusing.
“no, i have to take you home.”
you shoved him onto the bench behind you two, being sure not to hurt him.
“no, i’ll get us a taxi that’ll take us both home.”
he reached out for you, taking hold of your wrist before you could walk away to wave down a taxi. he brought you close to him, spreading his legs so you could step between him. you stayed silent, looking down into his eyes and now you could finally see it.
the pain he’s been hiding for so long. your heart ached at the look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. he was tired and deeply hurt, you don’t know what and you didn’t bother to ask. you just swept the hair from out of his eyes and cupped his cheek.
“okay, just rest.”
his arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head into your stomach with a heavy sigh. his muscles were finally relaxed and his heavy eyelids were finally able to close. even if you two were in the middle of a busy street, you didn’t care.
you knew he needed this. you brought your hand to the top of his head, slowly smoothing out his hair down to the back of his neck and then rubbing the nape of his neck to get rid of any tension. he listened to the sound of you taking deep breaths and then letting them out and smiling at the sound of your gurgling stomach.
it was a comforting sound, your touch was comforting as well. if you two weren’t out in the open in the middle of a cold night, he would’ve fallen asleep right then and there. he was very close though.
your touch was so comforting. it wasn’t a punch or a blade. it wasn’t a shove or a kick. it was soft and warm.
“is he alright?”
“yeah, he is! just sleepy.”
your voice was soothing, calm, and welcoming.
it was then that Leon realized that he was very much falling for you. he couldn’t get enough. after walking you home that night, he slept so peacefully back in his small dorm. after that day, his affection became more apparent to you. his touches would linger and his eyes would travel towards your lips.
you’d catch him silently staring at you and the blush on his cheeks rising up from his neck.
it didn’t take you long to catch feelings either. perhaps, the feelings were always there from the very moment you met him. he was always on your mind, you always worried for him, and you missed him when he wasn’t around.
one night, he was walking you home. you both were walking at a very slow pace, neither of you wanting to say your goodbyes yet.
“Leon?” you asked him, turning towards him and looking up into his eyes. you wanted him to know that you were serious.
“what’s up? you okay? you cold?” he was always so sweet, and so caring. it made you all fuzzy inside.
“i’m okay,” you smiled at him, a small laugh slipping past your lips. “it’s just,” you stopped in your tracks which halted his own, he stepped in front of you placing his hands on your forearms and rubbing up and down.
“hey, you okay?”
you stayed quiet and looked up at him, your heart hurt every time you could see a new bruise forming on his face or his neck and arms. you just wanted to kiss his scars away and hug him tight.
“i want you to know that i’m always here for you and that i’m just a call away if you ever need me,”
his hands slowed and paused at your elbows, his eyes went from worry to relief and then to a soft and kind look. slightly widening as his eyebrows upturned.
“i don’t know, who’s giving you all these bruises but i’m here if you need me.” you sighed, rocking from heel to toe.
training was rough. it nearly killed him every day and seeing you were the only good part of his days. but hearing those words from you eased his every worry. he knew he could rely on you but he didn’t want to be a burden.
he never wanted to make you worry about him because you have so many more things to worry about. but you don’t believe that, sure bills and rent are a huge stress but knowing the person you love is in pain is even more of a stab in the heart.
“you don’t have to worry about me,” he smiled, bringing you in for a very much-needed hug. you hugged him back instantly, practically squeezing him with all of your strength.
“but i do,” you spoke, your words muffled into the material of his crew neck.
you looked up at him, digging your chin into his chest. he looked back down at you and his heart was filled with so much love. god, he’s in love.
he made it a goal that once he finished training, he was to ask you out. that he was going to ask you on a nice date.
a steak dinner with wine and smooth jazz. he’d wear his finest suit and you’d wear your most gorgeous dress. he’d hold your hand, look into your eyes, and he'd ask you to be his.
but who knew that the moment he finished training he was set off on his very first mission. he was terrified. again, he was a rookie stepping into an arena so foreign to him.
he had Krauser and others by his side to keep him afloat but it was every man to themselves out here.
he got back home safely, just a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist no biggie. so he instantly made his way to your condo, it had to be today.
the week-old flowers sat in the passenger seat of his car, pretty much dead but some were still okay. the box of your favorite chocolates he planned to give you was now warm and probably melted but it had to be today.
you were worried sick. Leon didn’t come to visit you at work few the past few days, you called and texted his cell but no prevail. your messages were unread and your calls went straight to voicemail. you left a dozen of messages.
each one getting more and more panicked. he told you he finished training so where in the hell did he disappear to?
your prayers were answered by multiple rings at your doorbell and a rhythmic knock at your door. you knew it was him, he was the only one that knocked with that tune. you swung the covers off of your lap and ran out of your bedroom, your feet sliding on the hardwood floors.
you were quick to undo the multiple locks on the door before swinging the door open to see him.
you were instantly put at ease at the sight of his face but then you saw a sling on his arm and a cast on his wrist.
“Leon! what happene-“
before you could spit out another word, he brought his good arm from behind his back revealing a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates.
“will you be my girlfriend?” he stammered out, “or would you let me be your boyfriend? um-“
you gave him an answer by throwing yourself at him. wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close to you, crushing the flowers in the process.
“yes yes! of course i will!” you smiled into his chest. the smell of his cologne brought ease to your heart but you could also smell antiseptic on him which reminded you that he was hurt.
you pulled away and looked up at his face, a bandage covering a cut on his cheek and his lip swollen from a cut.
“my god! what happened to you?” you cupped his cheek, swiping your thumb over the small bandage.
you led him inside, frantically taking the flowers and chocolates from him and placing them down on the kitchen table. you rushed back over to him, helping him stand upright as he slipped off his shoes.
“i’m sorry to come over so late and to ask you out like that i,” he sighed, “i had a plan, a nice dinner and romance but i had work last minu-“
before he could say another thing, your lips were on his. your lips hit his teeth at first but once he got a motion of what was going on he was quick to reciprocate. he sighed into your lips and instantly melted into your embrace.
his lips were soft and warm, you could feel his cut now scabbed up brushing against your bottom lip but you didn’t care. you’ve waited for this moment for so so long.
you both pulled away with a slow smack and you kept your hand on his cheek, “dinner or not, you’re all i need.” you said to him with a smile.
you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. both sadness and happiness. you were sad that he was hurt but you were happy he was here. even though he should be resting instead of hauling his ass to your doorstep.
“thank you,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. he could get used to this, kissing you and holding you close. he could get used to your kindness and care, finally you see him for him.
that night he told you a fraction of why he had so many bruises, how he was training to become something big and how he finally went out onto his first mission.
and you learned throughout the first few months of your relationship that this was a regular thing. his missions were tough but you knew he was strong, you knew he would always come back to you and he knew that you’d be waiting there with open arms.
Leon made sure to spoil you, with flowers every time he came over, and your favorite snacks. simple date nights that consisted of takeout and movies. it was the small things that counted for you.
you always told him you never needed fancy dinners and the best luxurious clothes and shoes. all you needed was him.
you made him feel special and more than he thought he was capable of feeling.
though tonight was special. you come home to all your lights off and the smell of vanilla wafting in the air.
“Leon?” you called out, placing the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table. a flickering orange light brought you to the living room and you were shocked to see that the fireplace had been lit, the coffee table had been moved, and replaced with a large blanket.
pillows and candles, snacks and food, and especially Leon.
he stood in the middle of the room, looking at you with a large smile on his face.
“babe, what is this?” you smiled at him, your cheeks aching.
“happy six-month anniversary baby,” he chuckled, walking over to you.
he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, cupping your jaw and holding you close, slowly swaying you back and forth in his hold. your knees went weak at his touch and at the feeling of his tongue slotting with yours.
you pulled away, biting down on your lip as you looked at the scenery in front of you.
the fireplace gave the room a romantic aura, the hues of orange and red along with the cracking of fire wood and the whipping of high flames. the candles were your favorite scent, wafting in the air around you along with the smell of chinese takeout and chocolate covered strawberries.
“oh honey,” you looked back over to him, smiling at him with your eyes. god you could marry him right now. “i thought you had work today,” you gasped at him, swatting his chest playfully.
he rocked you back and forth, leaning down and touching his nose with yours, “i lied, i’m sorry baby.”
“mmm,” you hummed before placing a kiss onto his lips, “i forgive you.”
he lead you over into the middle of the blanket, guiding you to sit down and take a look at all the little small gifts he prepared for you.
a record of your favorite album from your favorite artists. little small gummies. a new pair of fluffy socks. a few hair accesories. and a velvet box.
you looked over at him, trembling with anticipation.
“open it!” he chuckled, growing impatient and snuggling into your side, watching you intently as you opened it. inside was a small ring paired with a chain.
“it’s a promise ring,” he slowly took the box from you and slid the ring out from its wedge.
“i promise to be your love forever, i promise to treat you right, i promise to be loyal and faithful,” he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit.
he took your ring measurement one night when you were sleeping.
“i promise to be the perfect boyfriend to you and future husband,” he smiled, his eyes looking into yours as he placed a kiss over the cold ring that was slowly being warmed up by your body heat.
"and lastly, i promise to forever be yours."
your heart was filled with so much love, you couldn’t express it into words how thankful you were for him. he was a gentlemen. even if he was hurt, his muscles sore and bruises decorating his fair skin, he made sure to walk you home.
even with his busy schedule and demanding job, he made time for you and your relationship.
“i love you,” you told him. it was your first time ever saying those words to him, it took you long enough but you’re here now.
“i love you so much more,” he tackled you down onto the floor with a deep kiss, teeth clashing into each other and noses squishing together. you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him close to you.
there was much more to this kiss, much more than passion and drive. there was hunger and longing. his hands trailed underneath your his crewneck, caressing your sides. you arched into his touch, opening your mouth to him and giving him permission to run his tongue over yours.
you moaned at his taste, the taste of sweet and tangy strawberry and you felt hot underneath his touch. but then he pulled away.
“i’m sorry, i got a little ahead of myself,” he laughed nervously as he pressed his forehead against yours. you licked your lips and shook your head.
“it’s okay, i’m … i’m ready.” you whispered to him.
you watched his adams apple bob as he gulped a lump down his throat. you two have been putting off sex for so long all because he didn’t want to hurt you and you were scared at first. but now, you’re sure.
you knew in your heart and in your soul that Leon was the one. he’s patient and loving, he’s never once overstepped your boundaries or made you feel like complete shit.
“are you sure? i don’t … i don’t want to hurt you.” he whispered to you, reaching up to cup your cheek.
“i’m sure,” you squirmed beneath him a bit, “i want it.”
he nodded his head, “i don’t know if i’ll last long,” he said with a breathy laugh.
you reassured him by shaking your head, “that’s fine, i just want you.”
“okay.”
he was excited but also very cautious. his kisses were slow and tender, his touch gentle and soft. his hands made their way back up under your sweatshirt and he practically moaned into your mouth when he could feel you had no bra on.
he tested the waters by sliding a finger over your erect nipple, eliciting a small moan from the back of your throat. his cock jumped at the way you struggled to kiss him back.
his slow touched were setting you off, they felt so good and your whole entire body ached for him.
his hand left your breast, and he pulled away from your lips.
“i’m going to take this off now, is that okay?” he was out of breath, breathing heavily onto your mouth and looking only at your face.
you nodded, heart thrumming in your chest at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.
“i’m going to need your words, babe.”
“you can take it off.”
he nodded, slowly lifting the hem of your sweatshirt over your head, lazily throwing it to the side and onto the couch behind you two. when he looked back down you were covering your breasts with one arm while you were propped up on the other.
there was a blush on your cheeks and your eyes were avoiding his. part of the reason you were scared to have sex with Leon was because you were afraid he wasn’t going to like it or like you.
your body wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t like a supermodel. you had stretchmarks and cellulite.
“hey,” he sighed out, leaning back over you. he placed a hand onto your arm, slowly rubbing his calloused finger over your skin.
“sorry,”
“no, don’t be sorry.” he placed a kiss on your lips, short but sweet. “you’re beautiful okay? you don’t ever have to hide yourself from me.”
you smiled up at him and nodded slowly as you removed your arm from over your chest. he didn’t look at the way your breasts bounced, instead, he just looked deeply into your eyes, soothing you with his soft ones.
he leaned down into your ear, whispering the words, “i’m so lucky to have you.”
he placed a kiss below your ear and shivers ran down your body and fire ignited in your stomach. his kisses continued down your neck, his lips lightly sucking onto your skin to create little purple hickeys on your skin.
you writhed underneath him, grinding yourself down onto his thigh slotted between your legs, you needed more.
your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, pushing him closer to your skin and silently begging for more.
testing the waters a bit, he scraped his teeth along your collarbone earning a small gasp from you.
“does that feel okay?”
“harder.”
“yes ma’am,”
he did it again, biting down a bit harder and something deep inside you relished in the sting and also in the fact that he was marking you as his.
he continued to venture down your body, placing a soft kiss to your pebbled nipple. you liked that, a lot. his other hand worked with kneading your left breast while his mouth placed soft kisses on the other.
“Leon, stop teasing me.” you arched your back, pushing your chest further against his lips. he chuckled against your skin, before running his tongue over your nipple and bringing it in between his lips.
he gave it a soft suck earning a small moan to leave your lips and your thighs to clench around his own.
he stood up onto his knees, leaving your tit with a pop. he reached for the hem of his own shirt and brought it over his head. his beauty never failed to amaze you, chiseled muscle and veins. braodness and brood.
such a gentle face and such a godly body.
he leaned back down over you, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. he needed you now more than ever, he was filled with more than just love for you but also deep hunger and eagerness.
you itched for more of him, you knew he was being careful but you wanted more. you trusted Leon with your heart, body, and soul. you were willing to give yourself to him completely.
you moaned into his mouth, loving the way he tasted and the heat of his kiss. dominating you, taking control, guiding you.
your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. you never knew you could crave someone so much as you crave Leon. you wanted more, more than he could possibly give you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts, his eyes asking permission to take them off.
you nodded up at him with a gleam in your eyes. god he was beautiful.
how could someone look so angelic, speak so elegantly, touch so softly, and love so purely?
Leon wanted to cherish you. you were his first, he didn’t want to hurt you or make you hate him. he wanted to remember this night forever, tonight he wanted to give himself completely to you. he didn’t want to hide anymore.
the hole that was left in his heart was no longer there because of you. his scars were healed and he could never be so thankful.
you kicked off your shorts and your panties, now completely bare to him. even then, he didn’t let his eyes travel away from yours. those blue orbs of his spoke for him and soothed your every insecurity.
you were aching for him, your cunt fluttered with need and your body itched to feel him.
“let me know if you want to stop,” he said placing a kiss over your collarbone.
“just say the words and i’ll stop,” he whispered huskily against your tit. you shook your head, eagerly watching as he made his way down your stomach with wet, open-mouthed kisses.
you didn’t want him to stop, your stomach was doing flips with every kiss he placed on your skin and you felt light-headed.
when his two calloused fingers made their way through your wet folds, shivers ran up your spine and your walls clenched around nothing. he was slowly testing the waters, rubbing over your clit gently as he kissed your abdomen.
he looked up into your eyes, noticing the way your hips would buck when he focused on the small swollen bud. he circled his two fingers over your clit, watching you stutter to take a breath in.
“more,” you breathed out.
he moved his fingers away, prodding at your fluttering hole while his lips traveled down to kiss over your clit. you sucked in a small breath, looking down at him in between your legs. blonde hair sticking to your sweaty skin and hanging over his eyes.
one of his muscular arms wrapped around your thigh, while the other was positioned between your legs, his fingers working slowly.
“Leon, please…” you sighed, throwing your head back.
he placed one last firm kiss over your clit, “okay, baby, i hear ya'."
he slowly sank his middle finger in between your folds, wet and hot. the slight stretch felt so good and so much bigger compared to yours. he curled his finger against your g-spot as his tongue flicked over your clit.
and god, he was addicted right then and there. sweet and salty with a bit of tang, he moaned into your clit as he added another finger inside of you.
your thighs clenched around his head as your fingers pushed him deeper into you. his pace quickened, his fingers now thrusting in and out of you as his tongue flicked at your swollen clit. the wet slick sounds filled his ears along with your deep moans.
you were dripping all over his fingers and tongue. he was beginning to grind his erection into the floor underneath him, his whole entire body was hot and itching with the need to be inside you. he’s never felt this way before, he was eager to make you come and even more eager for you to be his first.
to see you stretched out for him with his name dripping like honey off of your lips.
“more, please…” you moaned out to him. he was quick to obey, flattening his tongue over your cut and slowly flicking his tongue at your entrance.
“that okay?”
you nodded quickly, your insides were begging for more.
he slowed down, reminding you to use your words. “yes! yes! that’s okay.”
his tongue was hot and felt like heaven inside of you, lewd wet noises paired with the whines of his name. his arms came around your thighs again, holding your hips down as he eagerly fucked his tongue inside of you.
wet and sloppy is how he’d describe it, but he was in heaven. he loved being suffocated by your thighs and your cunt, he could die just like this. he moaned into your heat, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head at the very taste of you.
your legs began to tremble and the aching feeling inside your stomach was only getting tighter. you wanted to feel him, you wanted to feel him stretch you and touch those deepest parts inside of you. you were ready to fully give yourself to him.
you were shy at first, scared even but now you were sure.
you tugged on his hair, prompting him to stop.
“you okay? is it too much?”
you shook your head, pulling him up towards you, “i need you.” you breathed out to him. he felt like the air in his lungs had been taken away, he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think either. hearing you say those words, with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, did something to him.
he nodded, gulping a lump down his throat. he prayed to the gods above that he wasn’t going to finish the moment he slid himself inside of you. he prayed he was good enough.
“okay,”
you eagerly brought him down to your lips, sucking on his already swollen bottom lip. he tasted like you and something about you kissing him right after he ate you out was so incredibly hot to him. he held himself above you as his other hand went to work his sweats off of his legs.
you were trembling with excitement, so much to the point you were struggling to kiss him back. being so close to him like this, your sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex in the air, it was heaven on earth.
a shiver shook through you as he pressed his length in between your folds, “oh my god,”
he was thick and heavy, you could feel the heat radiating off his cock and onto your clit. it was glorious.
he slowly began to grind his hips into you, the tip of his cock pushing up against your clit in the most gentle way. it earned him a moan of his name, slipping from your lips and directly into his ear.
he groaned above you, his eyebrows scrunching together and sucking the taste of you off his bottom lip. he looked down at where your bodies met, admiring the way your cunt lubricated his dick. oh yeah, he’s not going to last long.
he looked back up at you, to see you looking where he was. your lips agape, sucking in small breaths, and your eyebrows upturned in pleasure.
“you okay?”
“yeah, it’s just …. intimidating.”
he chuckled at your choice of words, leaning down and placing a deep, slow kiss on your lips. he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours, “let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
you nodded, lacing his fingers with yours as his other went to grab the base of his cock. carefully, he pressed his tip into you, his shoulders shuddering as he slowly sank into your heat. you were so wet and hot it was driving him crazy.
you back arched into him as he slowly sank into you, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open in a gasp. it stung but felt so good.
“oh my god, you’re amazing,” he gasped onto your lips, “so gorgeous,” he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.
his hips flushed against yours, and finally, he was buried deep inside of you, kissing your cervix with his dripping tip. you could feel him everywhere, in your heart, your mind, and your soul. you looked into his eyes, your legs trembling and your walls clenching.
“please, move.” you begged him.
he nodded, he was still composing himself, trying to keep himself from coming right there and then. but slowly, his hips began to thrust. pulling out and sinking back in with a slow and languid pace. each thrust of his cock got less and less painful.
and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting at a steady pace and you were moaning loudly into the air. your nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, dragging down his back to leave red lines all over his pale skin.
“fuck!” you whined.
he brought his free hand to your thigh, guiding it around his waist. his thigh moved to press down on your other leg, spreading you open for him — allowing him to fuck you deeper. your eyes shot open at the feeling of him hitting you deeper and your breath stuttered.
he was so good, so perfect, everything you’ve ever wanted.
“god Leon, that’s so good,” you moaned up to him.
you were like a dream, this didn’t feel real to him but oh it was so real. you were all he’s ever wanted in a beautiful human form. everyone has abused his kindness, he was always a rookie who didn’t know better.
to everyone in his life. all his past relationships, whether it was romantic or friendship, he spent sacrificing his goodwill. but you brought his smile back, you healed his scars, and filled the holes in his heart. you saw more than a rookie. you saw him for him.
that’s why he means it when he says:
“i love you,” his voice came out in a small moan. his abdomen was tight and he was struggling to hold on. "oh, i'm close"
“me too,” you told him. he nodded, bringing the hand on your thigh over to your swollen clit. rubbing slowly and putting just the right amount of pressure.
you clenched around his throbbing cock, moaning out his name as your back arched off the ground. he took this chance to bring your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
you snapped, stars danced behind your eyes and the pressure inside of you finally ruptured. he wasn’t far behind, groaning out your name and then sinking himself deep into you to paint your walls with his hot seed.
his dick jumped and kicked inside of you, his muscles taut and his hand squeezing around your own.
both of you took a minute to catch your breaths, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily and holding you so tight. your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping his nestled inside of you, he’s never felt so safe in your embrace like this.
“that was … amazing,” he spoke in between hot breaths. you chuckled, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead.
he pulled away from the crook of your neck, looking up at you with every emotion swimming in the pools of his eyes.
“i love you.”
“i love you more.”
(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fic#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy re2#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you
2K notes
·
View notes