#game's rated M after all

[spectrearia]

GLITCHED MAN!! 💀 (w/ @cookieg122)

[interoteme]

yeah whatever (🔞)

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[nailtagyuri]

when i was 12 this was the coolest most mindblowing shit ever i was genuinely so obsessed with it I'd read it very day like the bible. I would die for a version of this with the post 3D world content over my country

[writerpeach]

Hauteur

LE SSERAFIM Kim Chaewon x m! reader

14k words

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Read on AO3

“God, you’re so bad at this.” 

“Yeah, no shit, Chaewon.” 

“Like, really bad, you know? Like you should not be allowed to play this game bad."

You’re already down three games, struggling not to scratch again as you aim for a different colored ball this time—somewhere, anywhere, but in the goddamn pocket. Safe to say, things are not going well tonight. 

“Shut up, Chae—you’re distracting me.” 

"No fucking way I am," Chaewon fires back, not missing her mark as a striped ball clacks into the side pocket, almost mocking your failed attempt. “What’s your excuse for losing the last three games, then?” 

“I just need to get warmed up, that's all—"

"Will that come before or after the sun comes up?" she asks, planting her stick against the floor and sliding closer. "It's okay to admit you're bad at this."

You grit your teeth, fueled by frustration, and slam your pool cue so hard the table rattles as the white ball shoots forward. Almost in slow-motion, it ricochets right off the side—failing spectacularly, right back into the eight-ball that spirals into the corner pocket.

Chaewon can't stop laughing.

“Oh look, you finally sunk one in.” You're left standing there, hands gripping your cue stick so tight your knuckles have turned white. "And that's game four."

You're about to snap the pool cue in half right here, then and there. You're fuming; Chaewon is eating all of this up, covering her mouth before taking a sip out of a beer bottle that's almost empty.

"Rematch. We're going again," you hiss out.

"So I can humiliate you again? What's the point? You can't beat me. And you owe me how much, exactly? Pretty sure your entire week's pay is gonna get fucking wiped after this.”

"Then one more game. Double or nothing." 

"Oh sweetie, you're cute. I can't take more of your money. At this rate, you're not gonna have enough to pay rent.” 

"Chaewon—" you nearly growl, gritting your teeth again. "Double. Or nothing."

Her eyes widen with curiosity, an amused smile tugging on those lips of hers while you wait for an answer. This soft little sigh escapes as Chaewon takes another sip out of her beer bottle, looking you over from the other side of the table.

"That's boring. Let's make this more interesting," she proposes with a devious grin on her lips, drinking some more before setting the bottle on the edge of the pool table. Chaewon doesn't let her confidence falter, eyes never looking away from yours—leaving you wondering what devilish thoughts have taken her. “Raise the stakes, shall we?” 

You stare at her with a raised eyebrow. 

"Loser does whatever the winner says. Within reason, obviously. If I win, and I will—“ There's a mischievous spark in those eyes. Whatever it is, Chaewon wants you to bite. “If I win, I get you. For a week. When and wherever I want."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"I thought that would've been pretty obvious. One week where you can't deny me,” she starts, that annoying smug smile still plastered on her face while she carefully gathers up all the multi-colored balls into the wooden triangular frame. A quick run down the length of the green felt, and she continues, grabbing the white ball out of a little pocket and moving over to her side of the table. "Whatever I desire." 

There's something about the way she enunciates every word that makes you shiver. You shouldn't take this bet, no way—there's a hundred reasons why that's a bad idea. Because you already know the outcome. 

Chaewon turns back to meet your eyes again. "Seven days, you’re at my whims. So you can be my footstool, errand boy, or whatever else I wanna do—you don't have a say. Maybe I wanna jump on your cock whenever the mood strikes? Or make you go down on me in the middle of lunch at that cute little cafe downtown? Anything I want—you do."

That's the most preposterous thing you've ever heard—you'd have to beat Chaewon just to stand a chance, which you know is nothing short of impossible. But you can't back down, and you can't shake the urge to wipe the smirk right off that little brat's face, to find some sort of satisfaction in watching her sweat. 

Yet Chaewon can sense the hesitation and does her best to persuade you further. 

She takes her position at the far end of the table with her pool stick behind her, getting ready to break again. “If you manage a miracle and win, then consider your debt cleared. And for a week, your rules, whatever your little heart desires. Fair, isn't it?"

You shouldn’t—you know better not to agree to her proposition. Not to give the enemy an opening. And yet, your pride refuses to let you do anything less. "So, I get anything? For an entire week?"

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?" she responds, rolling the cue ball ever so gently as she decides where to position her stick.

"You're pretty confident, Chae. This could go badly for you. Maybe next time I see you, it’ll be in the tiniest bikini I can find. Or just lingerie. Something real easy to tear off."

Chaewon laughs, keeping her eyes locked on yours. "Considering the performance I've seen tonight from you? I'd say a loss is practically impossible."

Yeah, there’s no way you’re backing down from this. "Impossible? Fine, you're on. Hurry up and break so I can win." 

Oh, she's going to regret this. 

Shifting her posture, Chaewon bends over the pool table rather seductively as she lines up her shot. When she takes a glance over, your eyes stay glued to those tight fucking shorts—they hug every single curve of hers, giving such a good view of her ass. 

"Unlike you, I know what I'm doing. I’m not the same girl you knew two years ago that used to help you boost cars and drive away from cops. Now, are you gonna keep staring at my ass, or can I take this shot?"

You don't respond. She breaks hard, the crack of her stick echoing through the whole pool hall, scattering the colorful balls all over the table—two go in, one striped and one solid.

"Which one are you calling, sweetheart?"

"Doesn't matter, pick one," you respond, determined not to give up any reaction whatsoever to Chaewon. "I'm winning either way."

Chaewon just cackles, reaching over to take a sip of her second beer bottle before taking position to line up her next shot. "I'll stick with my stripes then. Can't wait to have you call me master and kiss my feet for the next seven days, loser."

"In your dreams, Chae."

"I better start thinking about all the names I'm gonna call you then," she taunts, circling around the table to find the best spot to take her next shot. "You're gonna be such an obedient little pet for me."

You stay silent, because you're not giving her a modicum of satisfaction. And with ease, she's banking shots left and right, showing no mercy and striking her next target right on. No less than three balls in a row, gaining momentum before she takes a moment to bask in the glory. 

"Don't worry, baby, we'll have so much fun. I think you'll look so good on your knees, licking my boots. Giving me foot rubs for an entire fucking week. Wow, I can't wait—"

Chaewon sounds so convinced she has this in the bag, and just the thought of her acting like you’re already her little pet gets you even more infuriated—that bratty tone, how she’s predicted that you’ve already lost, as if you're a simple means to her every desire. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself," you fire back, because you're not going to let her get in your head. That's what Chaewon is so good at, but you shove those thoughts aside, watching her land another shot into a side pocket, taking another sip of her beer afterwards. That's five shots down, only three to go—and it's all been her.

"Please, I've already beaten your pathetic ass four times. I'm not even trying anymore." Chaewon moves to the next striped ball, and with no difficulty lands it in, wasting no time after that to line up her penultimate ball—an easy angle, an effortless shot. She's merely two balls from putting you in hell for a full seven days.

You watch with bated breath as her arm raises, stick held in position before colliding hard against the cue ball��despite her near perfect technique, it rolls erratically, missing its mark as the orange striped ball veers off course, hitting the bumpers and missing its intended target.

Her brows furrow. 

You try to hold back a laugh. "Nice shot."

"Fuck off," Chaewon hisses. She takes another sip of her beer to relieve herself before staring down the table without any concern. "Angle was all wrong, that's all. Not like you have a chance anyway, pet." 

She's not exactly wrong—if you miss, Chaewon only needs two easy shots to secure the game, and you have a long road ahead of you, not even having your first turn until now. But it's not as dire as it seems, given that most of the striped balls are out of the way, leaving you with a plethora of options.

Still, you have no room for failure. Even if you manage to knock one or two in, you have no margin of error. One tiny mistake can cost you your freedom for an entire fucking week. How were you ever lured into this?

But you can’t give up before even getting started, letting those thoughts fly away. You find an ideal spot and sink your first shot, a smooth roll, falling clean into the side pocket. Chaewon seems fairly unimpressed when you look up. Not that you expected anything less. 

"Lucky shot. First time you've sunk one in all night."

Maybe it's luck that gets you a second one too. And a third one right after that. Then Chaewon's expression does start to fade into one of annoyance and disbelief, watching a fourth shot sink right in front of her. But unlike her, you don’t get cocky. All it takes is one mistake for you to forfeit the game, and the rest of the week, too. 

Halfway there. You feel the tension rising, but steel yourself, because you have no plans of getting your lips anywhere near Chaewon's fucking feet in the foreseeable future. A rival ball nearly bounces in after you sink one into the far corner pocket, rolling a razor's width before coming to a stop, sending your heart dropping for a split second.

"Cute little streak you’ve got going on. Don't get too comfortable.” 

Again, you ignore her, knowing that any response will set Chaewon off even more. The brat wants attention you’re not giving. 

One by one, you sink each colored ball, until you’re one away from catching up. Chaewon only offers the bare minimum in acknowledgement at the sound. One shot, that's all you need to take away her advantage, but one misstep will cost you everything. 

Another deep breath. Your neck is tense, beads of sweat forming on your brow as you approach the green ball on the other side of the pool table. Not even looking at Chaewon, you pull back, line up—

And miss.

The little bastard completely flies off target, bouncing in the opposite direction, right into the bumper with bad intentions, almost smacking directly into the eight-ball. 

"Looks like your lucky streak ends there," Chaewon says, hardly hiding a grin as she takes a long swig of beer. "Too bad, loser. I wonder how you'll look in a maid outfit." 

She’s hesitating, as if victory is a sure-fire thing, with no chance of any other outcome, eyes staring directly into yours when lining up her next shot, brushing a loose strand of hair back.

"I know you're gonna be a good boy for me.” 

Breaking eye contact only for a split second, she aims the end of her stick right towards the final striped ball left standing. Her grip is steady, and a few heartbeats later, Chaewon swings back, causing the little white ball to roll down the felt field at a sharp speed.

Clack.

She doesn't give it a second glance, her eyes staring into yours—lips parted with that annoyingly smug smile on her face as the ball spins its way home, leaving you in dreaded anticipation.

But that lone striped ball betrays her. 

To Chaewon's absolute dismay, she looks down, waiting for the purple striped ball to plummet into the abyss, only to see her victory denied. It taunts her—merely grazing the corner pocket, still standing upright, close enough to convince you both that it could drop with so much as a sneeze. 

Neither of you can even fathom what's just happened. Her hands grip her pool cue stick tightly, as she looks around, clearly trying to find someone else that must've screwed this up for her. Surely, no way could her perfect little plan fail now.

"F-fuck. Fuck!" she protests out loud, still in awe as the ball remains in position, mocking her in defiance. "This table sucks! It’s broken, stupid piece of shit!"

"Too bad, loser."

"Shut the fuck up! As if you have a chance of winning. I'm still gonna enjoy having your head between my legs, all week, idiot," she fires right back, seething with every word that leaves her lips. Defeated by hubris, Chaewon's demeanor shifts fast. But you don't have time for her tantrum, approaching the table to end this all. 

Three balls stand in your way, and now you have the same chance Chaewon did moments earlier. You’re going to silence that bratty mouth once and for all.

She's fallen prey to arrogance, which is a mistake you're not making. With intense concentration, you ignore the foul swears that overpower the surrounding music, and line up your shot—then gently tap your way to glory. Another successful shot, a few colorful curse words from Chaewon, and you're free to move to the next. The final obstacle: the eight ball.

"Wait, w-wait a fucking second—hold on. Time out. Let's talk about this," Chaewon says, desperately, stumbling on almost every single syllable. "What if we just call the game here? Call it a draw and just walk away?” 

Oh, she's desperate. Once the realization hits, Chaewon goes into total panic mode. That calm, cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by this girl on the verge of losing it all, watching your pool stick line up one last time. 

And your smirk only grows when you look back up at her.

"No. This was all your stupid idea in the first place, brat. Eight-ball, corner pocket." 

Your cue hits the last ball with force, shooting right past Chaewon—who can only watch it careen its way into the corner of the pocket you've called, the white ball right on its tail, dropping the eight-ball in behind with a loud, satisfying thump.

She stays silent.

There's no immediate response. Her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes glaring at the last two balls scattered all over the felt. And not a single one belongs to you. 

Chaewon looks devastated. "Y-you," she stammers out. 

Her smirk is gone. Her cocky attitude washed away, reduced to an expression of pure, unadulterated rage. "How—how the fuck did you—"

“Lucky shot, I guess.” 

“For the entire fucking game? No, you—you hustled me! You fucking cheater!”

You take another swig of the beer bottle you were sipping on earlier—almost finishing it as your eyes remain locked, focused. Chaewon's hands tremble with anger, knuckles tight around the pool cue as she holds it between her hands, pointing it towards you like a knight’s spear. 

Her expression darkens with a furrowed brow and clenched teeth. And she's fuming, ready to explode any second, yet can't find the words to lash out—

“I’m fucking awful at this, just like you said. Right?"

Chaewon goes silent—or maybe too angry to reply as she stalks you closer, stealing the beer bottle right from your lips and finishing it off with a few big gulps until it’s empty. And then she slams it so hard on the felt surface you worry it's going to shatter all over the place. 

"I don't know how you managed to pull it off. I was clearly winning the entire fucking game, how could you have possibly—"

You cut her off mid-sentence. "Nobody likes a sore loser, Chaewon."

"I'll show you a sore loser, you little—" 

She holds the glass bottle like a dagger, threatening you with it as your eyes narrow on hers, refusing to show a moment of weakness. You're not going to give her that satisfaction.

"Just admit it. You lost. Rules are rules. Be a good girl and accept it, Chae."

"Fuck the rules! This isn't even fair—"

"Seems fair enough to me. You wanted this bet in the first place, didn't you?"

"Yeah, because you're so fucking bad at pool!" 

"And yet somehow I managed to win, didn't I?" you continue, savoring the frustration in Chaewon's eyes, which she so poorly conceals. "I'm so looking forward to this week."

She's shoving the bottle right into your chest now, glaring intensely, inching closer and closer until there's not a sliver of space left between you two. But eventually, she relents, grits her teeth, and inevitably accepts defeat.

"Fine—asshole. A deal is a deal. What do you fucking want?"

You take a moment to savor the sweet taste of victory. “Your tight fucking ass. In that bathroom over there. Hope you still keep that bottle of lube in your purse.”

A momentary silence comes, no argument, no protest, no further refusal. So out of character for her, but it's the sort of obedience that you don't take for granted, because who knows how long it'll actually last. "Whatever. Lead the way then.” 

So without hesitation, you do—Chaewon finishes her beer before grabbing her handbag off the counter. You take her by the wrist as the two of you wander out of the bar, heading for the public restroom across the way. It’s late enough in the night that you’re not concerned with it being occupied as you shove the door open, finding Chaewon right behind in no time at all. 

The lock clicks, and thankfully the bathroom is a bit more clean than you've been expecting. It's small, and barely fits the both of you together, with only black tile and dim lighting inside, a few paintings on the wall meant to spice things up. There’s only a single toilet in the corner, with a tiny sink against the back, a large mirror above it on an expensive-looking counter. It's not the fancy suite you spent last month together in, or the love hotel from last week, but it'll do. 

Chaewon pushes past towards the mirror in front of the porcelain sink, and you watch her intently searching through the contents in her bag until her fingers grab hold of something to bring it to your view.

"My ass? That's all you wanted?" Chaewon asks, catching your gaze in the reflection as she waves a familiar bottle of lube at you, unceremoniously placing the little bottle beside the faucet.

"Among other things, yeah.” 

Staring into the mirror, Chaewon is smart enough to know where things are heading, and wonders what she’s gotten herself into. The look on her face is a mix of irritation and pure lust when she turns around, eyes traveling south as she anticipates your next demand. "Get on your fucking knees, slut."

Here’s the first test—and Chaewon passes with flying colors. Moving away from the sink, she drops to her knees right in front, as if she's expected this outcome. And again, no protests, no attitude. 

"I knew you'd be a good girl and obey all week. Doesn't cute little Chaewonie love that?"

"Fuck you," she snaps back, with venom laced in her tone while her hands reach to unbutton your jeans, wasting no time to yank them to down your ankles. And there it is—that defiance, the same fiery expression you're so familiar with on her face that you've grown to know and love at the same time. You just watch, almost too amused, as she yanks those boxers down next, not even waiting a second to let your cock free.

That stare of hers lingers for an extra moment while her delicate hand takes hold, giving slow strokes up and down, grip tight, a thin coat of precum along every inch. "Can't believe I let you put this fucking cock in my asshole, almost every goddamn day of the week."

"Luckily for both of us, your tight asshole loves my cock."

Chaewon can't hide that blush on her cheeks—it's practically impossible to hide the cute little grin on her face as her hand continues stroking, steadily increasing her pace the harder your cock gets in her fingers. She just ignores you and spits on your shaft, pumping her fist all up and down with each stroke, grip as tight as possible. 

Another few moments and she's running her tongue along the length of your shaft—all slow and sensuous, a little breathy sigh before her pretty lips wrap around the swollen head of your cock, parting effortlessly as they welcome you into that sweet heavenly warmth. 

Her piercing eyes glance back up at you, guiding you deeper into her mouth as Chaewon takes as much of it as she can—down to the hilt in a swift, expert motion. 

"Shit, Chaewon—“

Hearing the way you moan her name, Chaewon can't contain her satisfaction as her head bobs up and down, lips moving slowly and carefully as they keep a tight seal, tongue flicking around the sensitive underside of your cock with each movement. You've become so used to this, the wet heat enveloping around you, soft lips providing so much pleasure, gliding all the way down, nose nestled against your abdomen for just a moment until it all repeats. 

You're lucky enough to experience this on the daily—because nobody gives a blowjob better than Kim Chaewon.

Oh, she's a fucking natural, taking every inch effortlessly down her throat without so much as gagging, tongue swirling and exploring as her hand fondles your aching balls, sucking and slurping lewdly as spit dribbles down from her pretty red lips.

"Your fucking mouth, god—I get this pretty fucking mouth all to myself all week." 

"Not like you'll be able to handle me for that long," she replies, with a lewd, exaggerated slurp around your cock as she pauses to catch her breath. 

"You talk so much for someone on their knees sucking my fucking cock, shit—that's so good."

And for once, she's not bothered by that remark. It just urges her to slurp harder, bobbing faster up and down with those hollowed cheeks, never letting your sensitive tip escape her warm depths. Her technique is completely unmatched. Each and every movement, she seems to know exactly what you want most. 

But you want something else, need something even more as you reach out, grabbing her head to shove her right back onto your shaft, to the very hilt—so fucking deep in the back of her throat.

Still, she hardly chokes, only briefly, a loud, lewd sound filling the room. Chaewon seems almost thrilled to be right back down that deep. 

"I like you much better when you're nice and quiet with my dick in your mouth."

The silence is fleeting—but the glare given as soon as those words leave your lips can speak volumes, knowing this peace is only temporary. Her warm mouth is all yours to enjoy, your hips thrusting without restraint, feeling those soft, full lips slide perfectly along your shaft as deep as they’ll go. You get a tight grip into her hair, indulging in her heavenly mouth, fingers all tangled up in her beautiful auburn locks. 

Nothing would ever make her admit it, but Chaewon absolutely loves this—so eager to please, clutching to your thighs as she takes you, struggling to control her breathing with your entire length sliding deeper and deeper while she lets you fuck her face. 

"God, your throat—your fucking throat is too good, baby, such a good fucking girl," you groan out. Her nails dig deeper into the back of your thighs, trying so hard not to choke whenever you decide to hold her down, forcing that mouth of hers to swallow the entire length of your shaft.

"I'm in the middle of a public bathroom sucking your dick," Chaewon murmurs, short of breath as she pulls away from your cock to respond, strands of drool dripping from her swollen lips. "So clearly—I'm not a very good girl."

"Shame. Then I guess you don't want this dick in your ass, brat."

Chaewon can't even retort, staring down at your glistening, spit-coated cock throbbing inches from her face. Her hand is on your shaft again without hesitation, pumping slowly while her lips trail kisses along the side, pressing lightly in an agonizing tease as her tongue licks your length.

"I didn't fucking say that, idiot," she replies, trailing your length further as those luscious red lips envelop your sensitive balls, slow and deliberate, slobbering on them while her delicate hands move back up towards your shaft. "I know you're dying to shove this inside me, god—you're throbbing so much. How long would you even last with me bent over this sink, with this big fucking thing plunging deep into my tight little asshole?”

"Guess we'll find out,” you respond, taking your cock away from her grasp and slapping her pretty face with it, making a mess as spit decorates her beautiful features. “Get up, face the fucking mirror."

"Be gentle,” Chaewon says, wiping saliva from her chin as she slowly rises to her feet, 

"That's a new one. Is that what you really want?"

"Fuck no. You better destroy my asshole,” she replies in the mirror with this sinful little expression, like she knows you’d never do anything else. So you bend her forward enough until her ass is high up in the air, her palms resting on the cold porcelain surface as you stand right behind with your cock resting against those tight fucking shorts. 

She feels so tiny beneath you, that petite frame and curvy ass waiting to be taken, all at your mercy to ruin. "How bad do you want my fucking cock? Beg for it."

“Beg? Fuck you, asshole. You’re nothing more than a convenient toy for me to sink down on that I use for my own enjoyment. Not the other way around—“

Even when she's bent over a bathroom sink about to be fucked senseless, Chaewon still can't shut up. “Is that so? I'm your toy?"

"Absolutely—and that fucking cock is the only reason why I bother keeping you around."

That’s amusing, to say the least. You don’t give it another thought as you get a quick grasp on those tight shorts and yank them down so fast her head spins. Underneath lies a skimpy little pair of panties that gets tugged down just as fast until they rest around her creamy thighs, leaving you to admire those full, pale ass cheeks.

You grope them and get a nice handful, so enticed by her shapely ass that without warning your palm raises high, a loud slap crashing against her bare flesh. Chaewon jolts against the sting, whimpering and biting her lip, aching for more.

"I want it so fucking hard. Hurry up.” Chaewon grinds her ass back, pushing right up against your erection, doing everything she can short of begging for your length.

“So you do wanna beg? Didn’t take much.” 

Chaewon squirms underneath as your palm slaps firmly again, gritting her teeth when it comes down with more force the next time. "Just get the fuck in me before I—“

Another smack cuts her off, the sharp noise echoing against the tiled walls as your palm squeezes roughly at her soft flesh. “So fucking needy.”

You’re both lucky the bass thumping in the distance can drown out the cries that spill out from Chaewon’s lips, as her exposed, reddened cheeks absorb every smack of your palm, the recoil so deliciously mesmerizing. 

Her creamy skin marks up so easily, bright red where you've smacked her delicious ass over and over. She's growing restless beneath your palm as you deliver more slaps, the noise louder and louder, with no warning for when and where. "Sh-shut the fuck up! I need it right now, god, just get that thick cock in me, please—“

So easy for her to surrender. 

Chaewon braces for another hit—but it never comes, replaced by a much different sensation as your slicked up finger traces against her tight asshole. So fucking tight, so greedy, eager to accept what's coming. 

"You're pretty demanding for someone who's going to be on their fucking knees for me all week."

She clenches around your wet fingertip when it plunges in, almost involuntarily. It’s insanely difficult just to ease the slightest bit inside her ass, fighting through that incredibly tight, hot grip.

"No more talking. Shove your dick in my asshole or I swear I’ll—“ 

"Patience, sweetie. My cock's going to live in your ass for the entire week—learn some fucking manners."

"No. Fuck you."

This girl is unapologetic, even at a time like this. She's borderline infuriating to be around at the best of times, so you’ll just have to do what you always do best—fuck the brat out of her. 

You pour a generous amount onto your cock, giving it a few full strokes before moving between those cheeks and plunging another finger back in. This time, it sinks in easier with little effort at all, knuckle-deep within that tight opening. Half prep, half teasing as Chaewon shudders, moaning so loudly while you spread that cold liquid, pumping two digits in and out. "Jesus, hurry the fuck up, asshole, I can't—"

"Can you stop being needy for like, five seconds? Relax. Be a good fucking girl."

"Try and call me that again and see what fucking happens—"

Her empty threats don't deter you from pushing the tip of your cock against that pretty, puckered hole, ceasing any further complaints as she lets out a needy, satisfied moan in response. One shallow thrust is all it takes to get right past that slippery tight entrance, stretching her right open to sink into those familiar depths.

"Ch-cheater," she mutters, while adjusting to the fullness, the overwhelming stretch of your cock as she grips the sink tighter. "You still fucking cheated. I can't believe you, fuck—oh my god."

You're barely in her ass and yet Chaewon is already stuttering, taking deep breaths as you watch your cock disappear between her pillowy cheeks. There's no other feeling quite like it—the heavenly vice grip on your length as her ass welcomes you right in and every single inch gets swallowed up.

"It's not my fault you choked at the last fucking minute." 

As you wait for whatever she’s going to spit back, you bottom out—those soft, round cheeks pressed against your body. A perfect fit, nice and snug inside that impossibly tight asshole that you savor before drawing the entire length out of Chaewon as she sucks you back in again.

"Why does your stupid cock always have to feel so fucking good?" she groans, already losing the fight with her pride, as your thrusts steadily increase in pace. Her perfect fucking asshole clenches hard, resisting every attempt to slip out, just devouring your cock without complaint. "Just like that—fuck, oh my god, harder, you cheating asshole."

And nothing could be easier to oblige. Every ounce of spite and aggression vanishes from her tone, replaced with pure bliss every time your shaft bottoms out. No part of you stays idle, one hand gripping those supple hips while those slaps on her backside echo, each sting so agonizingly satisfying as her tender, red cheeks ripple with every rough impact.

"You really love my dick in your ass, don't you? Look at you, trying so hard not to beg for this."

"Shut the fuck up," Chaewon growls, her mind preoccupied by bliss, overwhelmed by the pleasure, mouth wide open and moaning loudly without a care in the world as you just stare at her in the glass reflection. "Just fuck me harder, god—pound my fucking asshole and shut up."

The way she’s stretching so nicely around your cock, it's impossible not to do anything else. Nice and deep, sliding in and out of that perfect fucking asshole, groaning from how warm and tight it is as your thrusts start to get progressively out of control. 

Your hips crash against her body repeatedly, flesh on flesh echoing through the walls as your length pounds into her greedy little hole, fingers digging into her hips. Chaewon's sweet whimpers, little groans, and desperate pleas for you to give her even more grow louder, more frantic as your pace picks up, and she falls further and further apart.

"I fucking won and you're just a sore loser." 

Your palm is harsh against her soft ass, firm slaps that leave her delicate skin more tender and sensitive. In fact, the more red her pale cheeks get, the more aroused the sounds escaping her get. With her head thrown back, Chaewon watches you claim her in the reflection with heavy breaths as she stares back into the mirror, reveling in every inch pounding away deep inside her ass. 

"Please," Chaewon mumbles in such a pathetic tone, staring into your eyes in the reflection. Her fingers cling to the cold surface of the sink, desperately clutching for stability against your merciless thrusts. "I need—just use me and fucking wreck my asshole."

She can't hide the satisfaction on her face while you’re slamming right into her tightest hole, hard, deep, unforgiving. This is how you really like her, all pretty, fucked out beyond comprehension, practically incoherent and totally taken apart by your cock.

"Holy shit, shit—shit, don't stop. Give me more,” Chaewon whimpers, unable to tear herself away from the mirror and the depraved scene on the other side. Her tiny frame shakes, clinging so tightly to the sink for some sense of control as you drive your length deep, a loud slap on her reddened cheeks an exclamation point on every harsh thrust. 

There's really no way you could stop even if you tried. 

"Tell me how good it feels."

Your cock is deep in her tight asshole and she can't think of anything more substantial than fuck and please and more. Those sweet, desperate little noises she makes when your hips ram faster against her flesh fill the entire bathroom, spurring you on, reminding her this is exactly how this entire week is going to go. 

"So big—god, I feel so fucking full, that dick in my little asshole," Chaewon says with drool coating her chin, hair an utter mess. "Feels too fucking good, that nice thick cock shoved right up my ass, fuck—“ 

"Dumb slut loves having her tight asshole stretched, doesn't she?"

"Y-yes—fuck, god, keep going. Shit, it's so fucking good."

In the middle of another rough thrust, you lift her shirt up enough to pull her bra up, letting those tits spill free. You grope at them so roughly, cupping them, then playing with those sensitive nipples, anything to push her a little more over the edge. They bounce in sync with your thrusts, and she’s so goddamn tight you can hardly take it, buried in as deep as your shaft will go.

“Can’t believe how good your cock feels in my tight fucking asshole,“ she groans out all breathy and shaky, holding onto the sink tighter each time while you plunge your cock into her greedy ass, balls deep without interruption. 

The feeling is mutual—nothing comes close to how tight her heavenly little asshole chokes your cock, each thrust bringing you closer to release with every lingering moment.

It’s all so shameless. The way your hands roam across her devilish curves, how you tease those pert nipples before trailing down along the sides of her slutty little waist and getting a firm hold on to her hips for more leverage to pummel her tight ass even harder.

Through this onslaught of harsh thrusts, there’s no complaining, no bickering, just lust and a constant desire for more. All you can do is get your hands on her scrumptious ass, refusing to slow your hips down while you manhandle her sweaty, small body, fucking Chaewon as hard as you possibly can. 

A few more slaps on her tender ass, and you’re spiraling towards the edge, unable to keep this relentless pace up for much longer. You keep your hands full of those plump asscheeks—spreading them so you can thrust even deeper than you ever dreamed possible, the tightness in your balls building and building. 

"Chaewon, baby—gonna fucking explode, need to cum in you.” 

"Then hurry the fuck up and do it. Dump your load in my tight little fucking asshole, come on, fill me.” 

One look in the mirror and she looks so eager, so ready and willing for just that. It's everything you need to get your final moment of satisfaction. Burying your cock one last time, those sweet lips part in a silent, desperate gasp when you erupt, your hot seed shooting right inside her tight little asshole. You unload everything—thrusting frantically into her ass, squeezing those plump, firm cheeks as your thick cum spills and spills like never before.

There's barely a thought in your head as your hips start to slow down, cock pulsating, every last drop of your cum pumped into that perfect fucking ass. You’re spent, slumped over Chaewon’s exhausted smaller frame on the verge of collapsing, taking a few moments to just breathe—your head resting right into the crook of her neck, still buried inside her. 

Chaewon looks beyond satisfied, leaning further into the counter with her head hung low, strands of hair stuck to her sweaty face, breathing still deep and heavy. “Shit—oh my god. Are you done? Get out of me already, how much fucking cum do you have, jesus fucking—"

"I would, if you weren't still squeezing the life out of my fucking dick. That desperate to keep me inside you?”

There’s not another word from her as she scoffs in the mirror, and eventually unclenches her muscles to let you ease out of her tight ass, her gaping little hole already overflowing with your load. You can't help yourself, getting a full, unobstructed view of your handiwork from behind, hands cupping both of her supple asscheeks, spreading them apart to revel at the mess you've made inside her. 

“Fucking asshole," Chaewon mutters, while resting her back against your chest. Even now, she can't resist a snide remark, groaning softly as she begins to gather her senses. "I can't believe—the whole week, now? Really?"

"Don’t make bets with me you can’t afford to lose, sweetheart." 

Her breath stays heavy as she processes it all, and you lazily kiss at her shoulders, the slightest hint of salt on her bare sweaty skin. 

"Shut your fucking mouth.” She turns on her heels just to glare at you, shambling over with her panties still down her legs to grab some toilet paper to wipe the white leaking down her thighs. "Maybe I wanted you to ruin my asshole this—maybe I let you fucking win."

It takes everything in you not to laugh—that same old ego of hers, trying to spin this into something she can control, still so in disbelief after all this time. "Right. Of course."

Chaewon rolls her eyes as she continues cleaning herself up, shimmying her panties over her reddened cheeks and pulling her shorts up to cover herself up once more. "God, did you really have to slap my ass that hard? I'm going to be bruised for days."

"If I recall correctly, you're the one who started begging me to stop holding back."

"Yeah, because I knew you wouldn't—" Chaewon starts, as she shuffles a little closer, hovering on her tiptoes to press her lips firmly against yours in a deep, lingering kiss, cutting off any retort before it leaves your mouth. "Forget it, you ass. Now get out. Before someone sees us.”

There's little else for you to do when your pants zip back up, so she shoves you out and pushes open the door, gesturing impatiently for you to leave as you stagger out of the bathroom. Chaewon does what she can to look presentable, running her fingers through her hair, fixing her makeup, tucking loose strands behind her ears before she tries to stay hot on your heels when she steps out. 

“Come on,” you demand, and don’t even bother to look behind you, nor do you even care if anyone is around to notice how you both look as you make a beeline towards the exit. “Or I’m leaving you behind.” 

"Hey, wait up—I can barely fucking walk, asshole!" she calls out, chasing after you on her shaky, trembling legs while her heels clack against the flooring—pulling down her shirt in case anyone turns around, desperate to keep her decency even after all this. "God, fuck me first and then you expect me to run fucking after you—“ 

That only makes you quicken your pace, not the least bit guilty about the state you’ve left this bratty girl in. “If your sore little ass can't keep up, that’s not my fault.” 

Chaewon lets out a heavy sigh and narrows the distance, grumbling under her breath but otherwise following you into a taxi, swearing as her sore backside sits in the cab. You steal a few glances during the ride home, which ends in silence—completely exhausted, having just burned the rest of your energy railing her in the bathroom.

When you finally get out of the cab, Chaewon is far behind, walking gingerly up the stairs and holding the rail as she approaches the front door of the building. You just stare at her down, debating whether or not to unlock the door—waiting for another chance to get under her skin. 

"Are you gonna fucking open the door or just stand out here all night?" Chaewon asks impatiently, glancing at the lock like she can open it with her deadly gaze alone. "Because I need a goddamn shower."

She's really making it too easy for you. So difficult to resist the urge to push every button and test every single last ounce of patience this girl possesses. "What's the magic word?"

"Fuck you."

"That's two words."

"Let me in already before I break this door down, you fucking asshole!" 

Ah, there it is—her breaking point. That famous short-fused temper so dependable to show itself at just the right moment. 

"Remind me again, Chae—what was the bet about exactly?" The question hangs in the air, and Chaewon seems about ready to kick a hole in your front door. Seeing her frustration escalate only puts a smile on your face, unable to resist her little tantrums, now more fun to push than ever. 

"Can't seem to remember. I think we should call the whole thing off," Chaewon mutters through gritted teeth, avoiding eye contact altogether. 

"No, a bet is a bet, sweetie. Whatever my little heart desires for the entire week? Think that's what you said, if I remember correctly." You pause a moment, staring her down—those flushed, rosy cheeks and narrowed eyes in your view as she fidgets in place when you lean in closer, standing directly in front of the doorway to taunt her. "Which means—if I wanted you to strip all your clothes off and do a lap around the block, then that's exactly what you'd have to do."

"Y-you wouldn't dare—I can barely even feel my legs as is," Chaewon attempts to argue, nearly falling over trying to take a few steps closer.

"Does that sound like my problem?" There's a long, torturous moment of silence, Chaewon seemingly lost for a snappy comeback or a witty retort—unable to string together a decent response for once. You see that her expression softens, eyes darting to the sidewalk outside, as the thought of taking a walk of shame runs through her mind.

"You're bluffing.” 

"Am I, though? Like you said—anything I want, you do.” 

The fact that you’re using everything against her, turning that confidence into vulnerability, brings nothing but pure, elated bliss. There's no denying her frustration, the irritation etched on her features while she looks ready to unleash every curse word imaginable under the sun.

Chaewon’s hubris is all her undoing, and she knows there's no way out of this, not when you've backed her up in a corner. It takes a good minute to gather her thoughts and actually put together an answer, but the more she ruminates, the easier it is to know exactly where her mind is going. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m waiting.” 

In the end, she lets out a defeated sigh—and unfastens the belt around her waist. Right in front of the door. Outside, in public. It’s late enough in the evening that the block is fairly dead, but she seems to realize there’s no getting out of this. 

"I can’t fucking believe you—f-fine, whatever, let's get this over with," Chaewon murmurs out, looking quite sheepish as she tugs her shorts down her bare legs and struggles to balance in the dim light, stepping out one foot at a time. Without even thinking, her black top comes next, lifting it up over her head as she gives a quick look around the street before throwing it down on the ground. 

And that's when Chaewon just stands there, sulking under her breath, completely exposed in the cool, breezy night in only her underwear, barefoot on the cold pavement. There's little you can do besides enjoy the view, that amazing body in nothing but a saucy pair of lingerie that you’ve gotten a closer look at, shamelessly baring it all. 

Her face is flushed, eyes glued to the concrete, taking a deep breath before undoing the clasp on her bra—but that's as far as she gets before you reach a hand out to interrupt her impromptu strip show.

"Jesus, Chae—I wasn’t being serious," you blurt out, laughing uncontrollably and watch her pretty eyes go wide as the realization sinks in. "You were really about to run naked through this entire neighborhood?"

She shoots you that familiar icy glare and crosses her arms over her chest, doing little to hide the hint of her nipples poking against the fabric of her bra. "Oh my god—you absolute fucking jackass!" Chaewon balls her fists, finally working off that last little bit of restraint keeping her temper in check, immediately scrambling to scoop up her discarded clothing before anyone catches sight of her. 

"Red looks good on you, by the way."

You're expecting one of those balled up fists to land squarely on your jaw any second—but they don't, and Chaewon simply strides by through the door you’ve finally unlocked, intentionally shoving a shoulder into yours. She storms inside, tossing her shoes and clothes on the ground, seething the entire way up the stairs. That's the last you see of her that night, hearing the shower turn on immediately when she finally slips into the bathroom.

✦ ✦

It's the next day when the fun really starts. 

Chaewon is barely even dressed when the morning hits, wandering through the apartment in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely covers what little modesty her thong leaves her, digging through the cabinets to find something for breakfast. She's slept off most of the anger that lingers from last night, even so much as offering a smile when you saunter into the kitchen and pop a bagel into the toaster.

"Good morning," you say, taking a seat across from her at the kitchen table, watching her shovel down a bowl of cereal like she hasn't eaten all week. 

"Morning.” Chaewon barely looks up from a mouthful of crunch, focused entirely on the food. "What am I in store for today?"

"Dunno. Haven't thought about it too much."

It's the truth, mostly, though Chaewon has no reason to believe otherwise, knowing her day will probably be spent anxiously awaiting her next demand. "Don't keep me guessing here. What's next, blowing you in the corner of the library? Showing off my tits off to everyone on the bus? Or maybe—what, you want me to wear a plug in my ass all day?"

"Now you're just giving me ideas, Chae. But if you have a plug, maybe we can start there—"

Chaewon kicks you under the table, finishing up her cereal and drinking the last remnants of the milk. "Absolutely not. My ass is still sore from you wrecking it last night."

"I'll be nice and gentle next time." Like that's a promise you can make, unable to stop thinking about the way her body looked bent over the sink, manhandling her curvy frame and just pounding away without a care in the world. It's all so deliciously vivid—those plump juicy cheeks getting redder and redder after each impact, swallowing up your entire length. And those delicious moans, the memory alone makes your cock throb in your pants.

"I don't think gentle is in your vocabulary."

You laugh quietly to yourself, biting down on the last half of your bagel, contemplating her words. "How can I ever be gentle when you're always begging to be fucking ruined?"

"Oh, shut up—I don't fucking beg." Chaewon drops her empty bowl in the sink before hopping up on the edge of the kitchen table, sitting right in your line of sight with a view of her thighs spread wide. You have trouble focusing on anything else but that body, unable to deny how captivating it is to see so much exposed skin, all these sinful curves inviting your gaze in when that flimsy material barely covers up anything between her legs. 

"Did you forget last night? When you were so desperate and needy—begging me to fucking fill your ass?"

With that, you finish up the last bite, pushing your seat out and stretching for a moment. Chaewon takes notice and slides into your lap, thwarting any plans you have next—straddling you, knees firmly placed on either side with hands around your neck as she draws closer. “What did I just fucking say? I don’t beg. You must be misremembering things.” 

Nothing else gets said for a moment as Chaewon holds that heated stare. The fact you're able to maintain it, even for this long without breaking, is an achievement in itself—such a fiery look in those eyes when she leans forward to press a hot, heavy kiss against your lips. 

"Why would I beg when you give me what I already want, all the fucking time?" Chaewon peppers quick, teasing kisses all across your neck as she speaks and presses her palm flat against your crotch, gently massaging through the thin fabric of your shorts. 

"Yeah? And what's that exactly?"

Chaewon gets right against your ear, pressing those perfect breasts firmly into your chest and nuzzles your neck, placing the slightest kiss to your jaw. "Pounding my little cunt until I cum on your thick fucking cock. Until my thighs are shaking—until your fucking balls are empty."

Shifting her weight, she lingers on your lap, dragging those long fingers through your hair and deliberately grinding her clothed core against the obvious tent forming in your pants. Already, you can feel the fabric darken and soak through—making a bit of a mess that you’re happy to contribute to. 

"And what if I said no? Told you to stay still—be a good girl and wait. Patience and all."

"Then I'll tell you that'll never fucking happen. I'm not a good girl and never will be. Not when I can take your cock down my throat—or ride this fucking thing until you unload in my tight fucking pussy. Good girls don't take cock the way I do."

She makes her point very clear with a hot breathy whisper into your ear, making her desires well known. The look in her eyes, that piercing stare, ready to be defiled and filled—everything about Chaewon is downright sinful.

"So, come up with any grand plans yet in that dumb head of yours or..." Chaewon tilts her head to the side as she unbuttons her shirt little by little, revealing more of her delicious tits with every button loosened.

You just stare at that exposed cleavage with little shame. "Got a few ideas stewing. And here I thought you hated me winning your silly little bet.” 

"Like I said, I let you win. I got tired of beating you too easily and decided to spice things up. So now you get to use me however you fucking please, and that's much more exciting than winning another dumb game of pool."

You don't believe her for a second, but you won’t argue about it—especially not when she's so readily giving herself away. This version of Chaewon is the best version of herself, no complaints, no defiance, just a little vixen waiting patiently to see what twisted desires come next.

"Well, what type of punishment are you going to give me today?" Chaewon gives this mocking grin as the last buttons of her shirt come undone, opening up to give the full reveal of her perky, luscious tits—round and heavy in her bra, straining the cups of the sheer material. "Go on, tell me, master." 

”You are not calling me that. For an entire week. Not a fucking chance."

"You prefer daddy, then? Sir, perhaps—"

"None of those, you fucking weirdo, god, what is wrong with you?" 

"Hmph, you're no fun. What good is bossing me around if I can't call you something special, at least once? Or maybe—" 

You don't let her have another word, lifting her up off the chair in one swift motion, holding those thick creamy thighs steady while she wraps her arms around your neck for stability.

"Shut that goddamn mouth of yours before I find a better use for it."

You cross the length of the apartment in seconds with Chaewon's small frame in your arms, heading towards the bedroom. With every step, her tits bounce through her open shirt, making you eager to rip that bra right off. There’s no time for patience—you toss her onto the bed with minimal effort, her body sinking into the soft mattress with a little bounce. 

The way she moves makes the springs creak as she fully tosses her shirt off her shoulders, exposing the black lace number underneath, her breasts nearly spilling out. Again, you just stare—that gorgeous pair bouncing when her back falls flat, her hands roaming across her own bare skin.

"What's master going to do to me?" Chaewon asks, unable to resist teasing and taunting, giggling quietly to herself. She’s so proud of herself for turning the tables back in her favor, every bit eager to toy and rile you up as much as possible.

"I swear to god, Chae—" 

You're quick to discard your own clothes, leaving only your boxers as you step closer to the foot of the bed, enjoying the view of Chaewon's gorgeous body stretched out on full display. Those full breasts, ample hips, delicious creamy thighs—there's so much of her to take in, even the delicate features of her face, pouty lips that belong around your cock.

Chaewon bites her lip—eager to show off, squirming when those slender fingers roam across her toned stomach, before she brings one hand to fondle one of her tits while the other travels between her thighs, teasing herself with the slowest movements. "Does my body make your dick nice and hard?"

Her underwear is almost completely soaked when the two digits she has between her legs press deeper, rubbing in a slow, tantalizing manner that drives you crazy with anticipation. "What do you fucking think, brat? Do you even understand what your tight fucking body does to me?"

It’s a confession that materializes so easily, because you're fucking throbbing at this sinful little display she's giving, aching to be buried deep in any part of Chaewon's delectable body. With her gaining the advantage, she opens her legs wider, spreading them until you can see just how damp that useless little thong is—her touch getting bolder, bra clasp already popped and hanging by her shoulders. All that’s left is for those fingers to slip under the damp fabric that sits between her thighs, moving inside her sensitive slit, whimpering gently at her own touch. 

"Then hurry up and put your dick where it belongs."

There's a dangerous level of temptation from those words alone, enough to forget about anything else when Chaewon scoots towards the end of the bed, settling into position on her stomach and reaching out to slide your boxers down enough to let your stiff length free. 

Her wet little tongue darts across your slit, followed by an eager hand pumping around your shaft, stroking up and down as if it belongs to her (and it might as well). She falls into place with ease, focusing all her attention on pleasuring your aching, needy cock, her head bobbing up and down for a few moments—just enough to get it nice and slippery wet, dragging the warm slick of her saliva from tip to base. But that's all she gets to have, for now. "No, not like this. Face up. So I can use that pretty fucking mouth of yours."

It's an order that leaves little room for question—and she's quick to roll over on her back, pausing only long enough to discard the bra off her body. She tosses the offending garment across the bedroom to expose those beautiful tits as her head hangs slightly off the edge, right at the perfect level for your cock. You watch her hand resume those gentle pumps, taking pleasure in how much control you have over her at this very moment. "Use me, use me like the little slut I am. Use your pretty toy for whatever you fucking need."

Her eagerness to please is so damn arousing—it makes you pause as you look at that gorgeous face upside-down, stepping in a bit closer, aligning your stiff cock with those perfectly glossed lips and can't help but rub your tip all over them. 

"Don't fucking tease—let me taste this fucking cock."

You’re quick to indulge her as your cock sinks deep into the back of her throat, your entire length pushing in at once, balls nudged up against the bridge of her nose. You just rest there for a moment, savoring the heat and wetness surrounding your shaft, right down to the base. “My god, Chae—” 

Chaewon is completely ready and willing, hands grasping at her tits, pinching those pretty pink nipples between her fingers. As you draw your shaft backwards, a trail of drool and spit follow your length, as this needy girl runs her tongue across every wet inch. "C-come on, I can fucking handle it. Don't you dare go easy on me."

Oh, you would never. The second she takes a moment to breathe, you're slamming right back in, watching those pretty lips engulf every inch you give. She hardly chokes at all, throat accommodating your length without issue. 

It doesn't take long to find yourself completely engrossed with the way her sultry eyes look up, those pouty lips accepting each and every inch. You can't help but moan whenever you bottom out, keeping a hand resting at her slender neck, so you can feel it bulge just the slightest with each movement.

"Goddamn, baby, I’m all the way in your fucking throat. You love that don’t you?" you ask, knowing damn well she can’t answer as you pump into her, the image of your shaft plunging repeatedly between her plush, thick lips too unforgettable. Chaewon can do little but sneak a hand down into her ruined panties, playing with her pussy once more while you use her hot, eager mouth—not holding anything back. 

There’s nothing better than using this brat in every way you want, fucking her mouth with such little care—this is heaven. It’s impossible not to bury your cock so deep into that tight throat again and again. She only makes it better when her warm tongue drags against every inch, and her tits look positively mouth-watering from this angle that there’s no way you can leave them alone for a moment longer.

All you have to do is lean forward and grope both of her delicious breasts, kneading the supple flesh between your fingers. You handle them with no sense of mercy, using them as leverage for every thrust, to slam even deeper down her throat with your shaft filling her up completely. 

If only Chaewon could speak right now—

Instead, her eyes gaze upward, pleading as drool continues to spill from her mouth. And it's such a lovely mess, tears forming as you get rougher with every deep stroke. There's no better sight, your hands full of those delicious tits that you massage and fondle, jiggling the faster your hips move against her face. While you’ve got them underneath your fingertips, your palms smack against the sensitive flesh, right across her stiff nipples repeatedly, just enough to enjoy the sound it makes. Not quite as satisfying as the way they feel. 

"These pretty fucking tits, baby—I could play with them all fucking day,” you say, pinching each of her swollen nipples before returning another harsh slap that ripples the pale flesh so deliciously. And while she can’t respond, you feel it around your cock, these constant vibrating moans whenever your hand smacks one of those perfect tits, causing a slight red mark against the skin. 

You hold a steady pace, and keep these unrelenting thrusts going, taking one look down at those ruined panties. They cling to her sticky thighs, giving such a sinful view of her fingers jammed inside her needy cunt. "Don't even need to win a bet for this. You're just a greedy fucking slut who loves getting used all the fucking time, aren’t you?"

"God yes—" is the only thing that comes out when you finally pull your dick away, a messy string of spit hanging right after. Her lips immediately latch onto your balls, licking and sucking each one with such fervor, that ravenous mouth not ready for your cock to leave quite yet.

One glance is all it takes, as Chaewon pants heavily and works at your sack with her wet tongue, but your cock is meant for far better use. So much to her dismay, you move out of reach, earning a needy little whine when you take a few steps back away from the bed and beckon her over. 

She obeys, so eager and desperate to know what you plan next as she hurriedly slides those wet, useless panties the rest of the way off. That leaves her completely bare, tits out, juices leaking down her thighs, and you don’t even get enough strokes in as she slowly crawls on the floor, finding her position in front of you.

You're far enough from the bed now to do whatever you'd like, with Chaewon inches away from you, naked, on her knees, makeup slightly smeared from the tears spilling down her cheeks. The options are endless—and yet you can’t help staring, unable to stop looking at her gorgeous face, and this tight body, everything perfectly sculpted and flawless.

"Stand up, slut." 

It's a simple command she's quick to follow, unfolding her legs and standing straight up as her bare feet land against the ground. You tower over her small frame, with only one thing in mind—and it's like she can read your thoughts, so excited for what's about to happen when her perfectly manicured toes come off the carpet. And just like that, you've got her hoisted in the air, held up with your hands securely on her ass as you drop her right back down on your hard shaft.

"Holy fucking shit—your cock,“ Chaewon groans out, and instinctively wraps her legs around you, lips parted, so lost in bliss when you’ve got her impaled on your length, impossibly deep with every last inch buried in her wet little cunt. You get a good grip on her body, squeezing those pale, plump cheeks enough while she locks her arms around your neck, her weight perfectly suspended in the air. “Pound me—pound me like the greedy little slut I fucking am."

She lets out such a desperate moan when you give that first thrust, the one that’s always the most powerful, stretching her in the most delicious ways. There’s nothing to support her but your own strength, and she’s practically helpless in your arms as you bounce her on your cock, so slick and tight and hot all around you. 

It’s every bit overwhelming, in all the right ways. 

"Such a tight little fucking cunt,” you say, before slamming into her heat so mercilessly, spreading her cheeks wide to make her sink down on your cock without pause. You know she can handle more, and that’s exactly what you’ll give before she starts to beg for it, impaling her to the hilt as you slide so effortlessly inside. 

Chaewon is needy, wet, whimpering against your ear with her body pressed against you, tits pressed into your chest. It’s like she weighs nothing as you pound into her, these desperate cries for more that fill the room with a sinful symphony of flesh slapping together. 

“F-fuck, just like that! Use me, just fucking use my pussy!” She's completely at your mercy as she takes everything you give, her tight hole welcoming your harsh thrusts, moaning so shamelessly while she holds on for dear life and buries her head in the crook of your neck. 

"That's the fucking plan, baby.” 

Her body is so easy to handle, so easy to keep your cock sheathed that you could carry her around anywhere until your arms give out. Not an ounce of mercy for your aching cock buried to the hilt, pounding her on your length just like she craves. 

"Shit, shit—g-gonna cum," she whimpers out, barely able to give warning before her cunt clamps down on you almost painfully so as her moans spill into your ears. "Gonna fucking cum on your dumb big fucking cock—"

Everything becomes so, so tight, as Chaewon soaks your length, falling apart so quickly with your cock pounding her senseless. Those creamy thighs wrapped around you shake and tremble, toes curling, the suffocating heat of her drenched pussy so overwhelming it spurs you to fuck her straight through this intense climax. 

"I've barely started fucking you and you're already creaming on my cock? Needy fucking slut." 

"Sh-shut up, asshole," Chaewon says, a quick return to her old self even before the bliss subsides. "Not my fault your dumb fucking cock can get me off so easily. I'll cum all I fucking want—" 

That attitude doesn't last long before you double down on your efforts, a blur of heavy thrusts into her slick depths with ruthless abandon, intent on making her a writhing, quivering mess. Chaewon can hardly complain when she’s this insatiable,having fallen right into her next climax with almost zero effort on your part—everything just too hot and slick as you pound her greedy pussy relentlessly.

"Your fucking cock, oh my god—" Her voice shakes, words interrupted with another string of moans, her warm, messy cunt drenching every last inch of your shaft. She just takes it all and clings desperately to your body, bracing for another explosive orgasm while you keep her mid-air, your unrelenting hips driving her to an all new level of pleasure and sensitivity. “G-gonna cum, fuck—oh my fucking god, gonna cum again on your stupid big dick—"

When Chaewon falls over the edge again, she’s an absolute wreck—breath shaky, body shuddering, little gasps each time you give an especially deep thrust. She’s downright delirious with parted lips and heavy eyelids, helpless to defy the pleasure that keeps running through her body. “How many times is that, baby? Four, five? Getting real greedy, aren’t we?” 

"N-not greedy—it's not my fucking fault your cock feels so fucking good. Need you to cum too—in me, fill my fucking pussy. I’ve earned it."

That's all she can think about right now, sounding more and more pathetic with each slurred word. As if that's not already on your agenda. You keep her steady as you thrust a little more gently now, giving some recovery time as you carry her over towards the bed. Chaewon pants heavily when she’s lowered flat onto the mattress—still on her back and legs spread open, looking as beautiful as ever. 

She takes this moment to catch her breath—just long enough for you to toss her closer to the center of the bed, folding her in half, legs up towards her shoulders as you get positioned. “Use me to cum—ruin me. Shoot your hot load in me, make a fucking mess inside, please—” 

And how could you possibly resist that? The respite doesn't last long with her knees bent, feet dangling high in the air. One thrust, and she's nearly screaming as you plunge right into that hot, welcoming cunt, your cock engulfed in all this perfect wetness. 

"So deep—so fucking deep, holy shit," she gasps, and you quickly fall into a ruthless pace, knees sinking into the soft mattress when you pound her heavenly cunt with everything you have, now focusing on your own release. 

“Love your fucking cunt, baby—You want my cum? Want my balls fucking emptied inside you?” 

She’s frantically nodding, and each thrust comes harder than the last, slamming every soaked inch as deep as her cunt will take it. You can barely slow down, when Chaewon is so slippery wet and suffocatingly tight, taking every punishing thrust and welcoming the next. "That's what my tight fucking cunt is for, isn’t it? Taking your thick cock and never letting go until your cum is filling me, that hot fucking load so deep.“ 

That’s the dam that breaks when your carnal desires get unleashed and she watches you hammer her cunt, so deliciously stuffed as she whines with satisfaction with this hot squelch flooding the room. The bed shakes beneath her helpless little frame, balls slapping hard against her asshole each time you bury yourself deep as you can go, getting utterly relentless with your hips and hoping the mattress holds. 

“Oh my fucking god, cum inside, fucking cum in me, I need it." 

Chaewon is long past desperate as the ecstasy builds up higher and higher, and you're on the verge of emptying deep inside any moment, adjusting your angle while her slick cunt aches for your release. She’s shaking with anticipation, every stroke a promise of your seed, pumping right inside where it belongs. 

"Now, now, cum in me now—" Even all folded up, Chaewon tries to keep some semblance of control, with the springs protesting beneath her sweaty body. You can’t fight this urge, your body far past your limits when the pressure keeps building, until a loud guttural groan is the only warning she gets before one last deep, relentless thrust—

One last look at her face all contorted in pleasure, and you're emptying your load deep, pumping her pussy full with hot spurts that fire one after another, making her insides all white and sticky. But it's not enough to just fill her. You have this overwhelming ache to fuck your cum deep into her, ensuring she gets every last drop while your climax lingers, your shaft violently pulsing inside those wet, messy folds.

Even when the sensitivity becomes too much—you ignore it, because Chaewon feels too warm and wet, too perfect to leave such a heavenly grip, these slick walls that cling to your length and refuse to let anything escape her messy depths.

Chaewon looks more than satisfied as your hips start to falter, pumping through all the exhaustion until you can’t. 

"You came so much, fuck," she lets out with a weak voice, and you can hardly argue with her there, easing out of her little by little until this thick mess leaks out, slowly dripping out onto the sheets once every inch slides out. "It's all in me now, all your hot fucking cum in my little pussy like I deserve.” 

That cocky little smirk is back as you settle back and enjoy the bliss, left with a perfect view of the full mess inside Chaewon when her own hand wanders to those soaked folds, playing with this sticky warmth while she pushes whatever escapes back into her hot, messy cunt. 

"You really are a little cumslut." She offers nothing but a smile, tired gasps and heavy pants, two fingers sliding so deep in her warm cunt like she’s proud to show off how much she can make you explode. The sheets underneath remain an almost a bigger mess than her, stained by an ocean of fluids, but neither of you show any genuine concern, lingering in that euphoric sensation and content to never move. 

"S-so fucking what? Don't pretend that you don't love filling my pussy."

Before you can even take another breath, Chaewon pulls you right on top of her—your body crashing into hers as your lips meet. There's nothing left to argue about when the two of you lock in a lazy make-out session, tongues exploring mouths, not a care in the world about the mess pooling and staining everything below. 

When Chaewon breaks away, you're left mesmerized by those pretty eyes, so round and full of satisfaction. "So, I guess… the bet is over now, right?"

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous that Chaewon thinks she's getting out of this so easily. "Please, you think this is over? We’re just getting started, sweetie. I haven't even begun to run out of different ways to ruin you."

Chaewon just rolls her eyes, shifting her weight a bit more comfortably into the mattress to steal another kiss. "God, like we need a stupid bet for that."

She's not wrong, but that doesn't mean you're dropping your claim to the rewards anytime soon. Five whole days with Kim Chaewon, with the freedom to do absolutely anything you'd like to her. Not a chance you'd give that up. "What's the matter? Not confident anymore, Miss-I-can-take-anything?"

"Shut up," she whines, burying her face against your chest in feigned irritation. "I'm totally fine. I just need to make sure your balls hold up. Five more days of you fucking me all day... hope you've got a good supply. Maybe we should take a couple of days off to let you recover."

"It's okay to admit you can't handle me for that long. Maybe it's your tight fucking cunt that needs the recovery time. Poor little Chaewon, I've just been using your pussy too much—"

"Asshole!" Chaewon gives a light slap against your arm that barely registers, considering her frame compared to yours. "Now get off me and help me to the fucking shower. I need your filth out of me."

"Not unless I'm joining you.” 

Another eye roll from Chaewon as she bites down a smile, attempting to sit up as best as she can with you still hovering over her—without much luck. "God, no, I swear I need an actual shower. You're just going to pound me against the glass until I can't even remember my own fucking name, and then we're never going to get clean." 

"I don't see the problem here."

"Oh my god," Chaewon sighs, attempting and failing to squirm her body out from under yours. "Fine. You can join, but keep your dick out of me." 

“No promises. Where's the fun in that?"

"Ugh, you greedy little bastard. Is your cock ever satisfied for even a moment?"

"No."

Chaewon lets out this exasperated groan as you help her off the mattress and onto her wobbly legs—grasping her hips, helping guide her over towards the shower across the room. She looks less than amused. "You're such an ass, there's no way you have anything else left. My pussy can't take it—god, you're gonna destroy me."

"Again, don't see the problem here."

You've never seen her more annoyed. It's the closest she's looked to admitting defeat. "Of course you fucking don't—look, I'll let you fuck my soapy tits in the shower, alright? But your dick is not touching anything else until we get clean."

"That's really not part of the bet though—" 

"It's either that or you jerk off in there alone, asshole!"

There really is no arguing with that tone of hers—and there's no way you'll even pass on the opportunity to shove your cock between her delicious tits, all soapy and slippery wet.

"Fine, fine—I'll behave." 

"God, good," Chaewon sighs again as the two of you stumble into the shower. She gets her moment of solace under the hot running water, taking a minute to rinse away all the mess of sweat and bodily fluids collected over the past while. Once you're both clean, you make good on your promise—so does she in return, pouring a generous amount of body wash over her chest, the suds lathering up her tits to create this perfect friction to slide through and let you do your thing.

And god, it's wonderful, every bit as euphoric and satisfying as when her lips wrap around your cock. Chaewon hardly has to do anything in particular, just keep a firm grasp on either side of her soapy, soft breasts in place for you to fuck into at whatever pace you'd like. It's not a long process—she barely has to squeeze her chest around your shaft, that wonderful slick friction enough to make you unload in no time, shooting a generous load all across her cleavage.

The perfect cherry on top of an already satisfying morning. A morning that feels like a blur, because it feels like you’ve been going at it for weeks. 

Once you turn off the water, dry off and find fresh clothes, you make your way back to the couch, exhausted and drained, with Chaewon draped over your body. It's oddly cozy, lying here together, not talking, not bickering, just enjoying each other's company with your limbs entangled.

It's probably the closest to romantic you two have ever gotten. Maybe you've finally fucked all the fight right out of her.

"Can't believe you actually kept your hands off me this time," Chaewon says and shifts over, resting her head on your chest, eyes looking straight up at you. "Normally, you can’t control your dumb fucking cock around me for thirty seconds."

You simply glare at her—not much energy left to deny that claim.

"You sound so disappointed."

Chaewon simply laughs, snuggled up in her position across your chest. "Don't flatter yourself. Just surprised is all."

She's right about that—it really is an impressive show of self restraint from you, holding yourself back from railing her against the shower glass and shooting another load inside her. Then again, you've got the rest of the week to indulge in all your fantasies and desires. No point exhausting yourself out so quickly. "Oh, don't you worry. I've got plenty of things planned for later. All week."

"Oh good. I can't wait," Chaewon sighs and eases back into your body, getting all kinds of comfortable. "Maybe if I'm lucky, you can bring a friend along next time and you can double team me."

Of all things she could say to surprise you, somehow that one manages to. "Like I'd ever share you with anyone—"

"Trying to keep me all to yourself? How romantic. Or jealous that someone might get me off better than you, then?"

"As if that'd ever fucking happen."

"Well, then I guess we're just stuck with each other forever then," Chaewon says with a tired smile, fingers casually stroking through your hair. "Stuck with my tight fucking ass, stuck with these perfect tits, stuck with my pretty little mouth that loves swallowing your cum. Poor you."

"I'll have to endure somehow."

Chaewon smacks lightly at your shoulder in jest. "God, what a fucking sacrifice."

With that, it prompts the smaller girl to push herself up off the sofa, shaking her head as she heads back towards the bedroom.

"Don't forget, we still need to change the sheets, you ass. No falling asleep yet."

"Fine," you grumble, following her swaying hips into the room. "It's not my fault you cum so much."

"Me? Have you seen how much fucking seed comes out of your dick? You’re like a fucking faucet, I swear,” Chaewon says, pointing a finger accusatively at you. “I'm not shampooing it out of my hair again, just because you can't learn the concept of proper aim.“ 

"Don't be so dramatic, brat. You're acting like you don't absolutely love being covered in it."

"Whatever. Your balls have like an infinite amount of cum, god—“

“That’s definitely your fault. Look at that fucking body of yours, how can I not resist blowing a load whenever I’m around you?” 

"Jesus, you're fucking insatiable. It’s called having self-restraint."

"Maybe, but that ass—"

Chaewon just groans, having far too much of this absurd conversation for her liking. “Look, if you prefer, next time I can just gush all over your couch and save you the trouble, then."

"Wouldn't be the first time you've ruined my furniture with your messy fucking orgasms anyway—"

"Stop blaming me! Oh my god, shut the fuck up, like you didn't ruin my favorite bra because you can't fucking help yourself from jizzing all over me!" Chaewon plants her hands on her curvy hips and glares as hard as she possibly can. And you have to admit, anger is a good look on her. 

But those messy sheets can wait. 

Because why would you bother with that when there's a dozen different places you can fuck her before the day is over? Why spend your time doing anything else but pinning Chaewon's lithe little body against the bedroom wall, and shoving your cock right back in her ass with a hand wrapped tight around her throat?

After this week is done, you're probably going to need a whole new bed.

So the sheets can fucking wait.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Teach Me How To Play Coach Miller

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Austin Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,275 Summary: You're home alone, relishing a lazy day when your hot neighbor knocks on your door. Seems his TV is out and he really wants to watch the Rangers game. You know nothing about baseball... maybe he can teach you a thing or two? Warnings: smut, porn with very little plot, age gap (reader's college aged, Joel's in his 30's), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v, riding, baseball terms, Joel's a filthy liar but it benefits all of us, mentions of voyeurism and masturbation, big balls Joel Miller in gray sweatpants, no use of y/n, not beta read.

Masterlist

---

It’s another famous hot September afternoon in Texas. Too damn hot to do anything besides walk outside, roll your eyes at the sweltering temperature, turn around and walk back inside. The thick humidity and overbearing heat makes your skin slick and clothing stick in all the wrong places– or maybe the right places– it depends on who’s looking. 

A ring of the doorbell interrupts your lazy day movie marathon. The house is yours for the weekend, your roommates are all gone for a festival and your coursework is all done, so naturally you’re laid on the couch taking a reprieve from the overbearing temperature.

Another ring.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you grumble. 

You open the door, your knees buckling at your bad luck.

GOD DAMNIT. OF COURSE IT’S JOEL MILLER. *THE* JOEL MILLER. The hot DILF you and your roomies all lust after. The broad, golden skinned GOD of a man that you all argue over who’s going to get to bed one day. 

“Joel? H-hey,” you say, attempting to hide your embarrassment over how you look. It’s 4 PM and you’re still wearing what you woke up in… an oversized Rangers shirt of your ex-boyfriend’s over a pair of lace boyshorts… it’s too freakin’ hot for actual clothes. 

“Afternoon–uh–so my cable box just stopped working and it’s the clenching game for the playoffs,” he nervously huffs, putting a hand to the back of his neck. “I know it’s crazy to ask, but can I watch the game on your TV?” He lifts a six pack of beer enticingly, “I brought this as payment.”

“Oh,” your eyes widen in surprise. Joel Miller… on your couch? Yes! Joel Miller on your couch! You open the door wider and step aside to let him in. “Of course, make yourself at home.” 

He walks into your house… this is a dream come true, he’s in GRAY SWEATPANTS and they hug his thick body perfectly. 

You take a precursory look around your living room, silently thanking yourself for picking up the house yesterday. Now the hunk of a neighbor you’ve touched yourself to while watching him mow his lawn is closer to you than he’s ever been.

You quickly stroll over to the coffee table, picking up the remote and handing it to him. 

“Thanks for this, appreciate it sweetheart,” Joel says, sitting on the couch, taking up a whole cushion with his broad body. 

Ohhhh, sweetheart. His eyes darken at the sight of your breath hitching, before his eyes gaze lowers to your bare legs. 

“Yeah, o-of course,” you nod, feeling very underdressed with your handsome neighbor taking a seat on the couch you were just laid out on a few minutes ago. “I’ll go get an opener.”

Joel turns the game on and settles his back against the couch cushions, “Thanks sweetheart.” 

__

The ceiling fan chains clang against one another, it only does this on high, it drives you crazy but the soft breeze it sends down is worth the annoyance. Your skin’s too overheated sitting only a couch cushion’s length away from Joel. Your foot nervously taps against the carpet while you try to focus on the book you’re reading. You’re overwhelmed by his presence, hearing his lips form around the beer bottle and taking a swig, the movement of his body against the couch cushions, the smell of wood and coffee he’s brought into the house. You sigh, turning your attention to the game, maybe today’s the day you’ll learn about America’s pastime. 

“Why is it called a shortstop? Do they have to be short?” You ask putting your book down. 

“No,” Joel chuckles, “s’just what the position is called.” 

“Ah, and every team has one?”

“Yes,” he shakes his head, “what exactly do you know about this game, sweetheart?”

“Um, I know I like their tight pants.” 

“Oh really?” Joel looks over at you, crooking his eyebrow up. 

“Yep, and the guy throwing the ball is really tall and cute.”

“That’s called a pitcher sweetheart,” he shakes his head at your ignorance.

“And he throws to the…” your finger taps your cheek while you mock contemplation, “catcher?” 

“That’s right,” he nods, his voice dropping an octave. “What else do you know?”

“I know there’s bases and home runs, adorable mascots and Cracker Jacks.”  

“What bases?”

“Hmm. First base, second base, third base, and home.”

“Good girl,” he grins, “you’re a smart girl.”

“I know I am,” you smugly smile at him. “First base is kissing. Second base is above the waist, third base is bel—“

Joel’s laugh cuts you off. “Is that right? Seems you know all about baseball, you’ve… ‘played baseball’ before?” 

“Mm,” you lean towards him, “I like playing baseball… I just haven’t in a few months… you know besides practicing with myself.”

He shakes his head, a devilish smirk lights his face as he angles his body towards you. “You practice a lot?”

“Yeah, especially when my hot neighbor is outside mowing his lawn and he gets all sweaty. My bedroom window looks right out on his lawn.” Joel’s eyes widen at the realization that you’re talking about him. “Sometimes he lifts the hem of his shirt and wipes his brow, I get to see a peek of his stomach, it’s super hot.”

“Funny,” he puts his beer bottle down and licks his lips. “I have a hot neighbor too. I’ve, uh, ‘practiced’ before while thinking about how good she looks running in her tight shorts and tiny tank top.” 

Your core begins to pulse at his words, desire lights inside your body. Joel Miller has noticed you *and* gets off to the thought of you?! And now, he’s on your couch, sending you a lascivious look. Let’s ball. 

“Can I play?” you ask, head tilted with a smirk before scooting closer to him.

“Yeah?” his eyebrows crook up. “You want to play with an old man like me?” 

You nod. “Put me in coach.”

“Batter up baby,” he growls, grabbing and lifting you to straddle his lap. You’re thankful for your measly lace panties, less layers between you and Joel’s dick. “You wanna show me first base?”

You gulp, pouty lips agape begging to be kissed by Joel Miller. “First base,” you nuzzle your nose against his, “is kissing.”

“Mm,” he nips at your bottom lip, “then kiss me, pretty girl.”

You pull away, angling your head to look at the TV. “But what about the game?”

“They’re losing by four,” he grabs your chin, turning your head back towards him. “Plus, I don’t think it’s possible to care about the game when a pretty girl like you is on my lap.”

Leaning forward, you plant a soft kiss and suck his plush bottom lip into your mouth. Your heart flutters inside your chest when his mouth opens inviting you to lick into it as he lifts the hem of your shirt. 

You swipe his hand away, “Not at second base yet.”

“Fuck,” he pants. “Been wanting to see you since you moved in last year.”

His confession rolls through your body, sending waves of want through your limbs. You want to rock your hips against him, you want to feel your bare skin against his, you want to feel him inside you, but you also love the game you’re playing and it’s not just every day your hot neighbor comes over to watch a ballgame and winds up with his tongue in your mouth.  

You deepen the kiss, moaning against his lips as your tongues collide and explore each other’s mouths. Raucous shouting of the announcers on the TV interrupts your makeout session.

“Mmph, will you look at that? Rangers just hit a grand slam ’n tied the game. You wanna celebrate now?” Joel grabs the hem of your shirt and angles his eyebrow up.

“Show me second base Joel.”

Your shirt is lifted and tossed aside, your nipples pebble under the cool fan air and Joel’s attention. He stares, eyes wide in astonishment as he takes your bare chest in. 

“Second base is above the waist stuff,” you direct. His large, calloused hands mold around the weight of your flesh. 

“Mm, knew you’d be soft,” he rasps in awe. His touch drives you crazy, just an hour ago, you were dozing off on the couch to Romy & Michelle’s High School Reunion, now Joel Miller is holding your tits in his hands. He rubs the tips of his thumbs back and forth across your nipples. “Can I use my mouth on you baby?” he asks, his gaze moving from your chest to your eyes pleadingly. 

“God yes,” you pant, rising up to bring your chest to his mouth. He clasps his lips around your nipple, sucking and pulling, swirling his tongue around the peak before letting it go with a pop. Your back arches, your weight settling firmer against him when he nips his way across your chest, taking your other breast into his mouth and suckling. Your hands snake underneath his shirt and run across the plush of his stomach petting your hands across the smattering of hair across his belly. 

Joel buries his face between your breasts, breathing you in and groaning against your skin, his hands grab your hips and push your body firmer against his half hard cock still clad in his sweatpants.

He’s fully dressed, your teensy pair of lace panties do very little to stop your cunt from dripping onto the light gray fabric of his sweatpants. Your hips begin to grind against the shape of him, begging for contact. He ruts his hips up to tap against your core pulling a moan from you. 

He snickers teasingly, “We goin’ to third base already baby?”

You whimper a measly yes, rocking yourself harder against him. Fuck the pace of game, it’s going to be a quick one. You’re so needy for him, you can’t believe this is happening with Joel “hot dad” Miller. Your roommates are never going to believe you. 

You reach for the hem of his shirt, bunching it up before he chucks it off and throws it across the couch. You lean back, eyes widening at the sight of him. Good LORD, he’s perfect. His skin glows in the late afternoon light beaming in from the front window. His shoulders and arms are toned from all of the manual labor you always watch him accomplish. Your hands roam his soft muscles, exploring the plains of his body. He’s the whole fucking package. He looks at you with a smug smirk while you take him in. 

You want to taste him and see if he tastes like the sweat and sunlight. Your lips find his collarbone, licking and sucking, tasting the slight salt of the sweat the heat leaves on everybody’s skin on days like today. Delectable.

His throat groans against your tongue, he shivers underneath you, you’ve never wanted someone so badly before. 

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, “please.”

“Not yet, not yet baby, we’re still at third, you’re still learning all about baseball. I need to enjoy a game as sweet as you,” he implores, sliding a hand between your legs and petting your soaked panties. “This all for me?” 

“Yesss,” you hiss, licking your way up through his scratchy beard to his mouth. 

You gasp against his lips when he slides a thick finger inside. He chuckles a deep breath against your mouth, “So fucking wet aren’t you pretty girl?” 

Your only answer is a garbled moan and a clench around his second finger that stretches you. 

His fingers languidly fuck you while his thumb teases soft circles against your clit, you’re writhing from his touch, breathing mews into the air. He licks into your mouth swallowing every shattered breath that escapes from your throat. So many nights you’ve fallen asleep to the thought of this moment laying alone in your bed, gazing out the window at the Miller household. What would Joel Miller’s overworked hands and plush mouth feel like against your body? Well, now you know, and it feels even better than you could have ever imagined.  

He licks his way down to your neck, asking “Can I taste you?” against your skin. 

“Yes,” you cry out. 

Joel lifts you with a grunt and lays you down against the couch cushions. He stands over you, running a hand across your body, mapping his way from your breasts down your stomach to the trim of your panties.

“You’re gorgeous,” he muses, his eyes turning black as he pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to him. You spread your legs open encouraged by the possessiveness of his stare. He tosses your underwear behind him before settling on the couch between your legs with a deep growl. Your legs are lifted over his shoulders. “Fuck,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your thigh, “you’re so fucking hot. Let’s get to third base sweetheart.”

His eyes flutter shut at the first taste of you when he parts your folds with his tongue. Everything about Joel Miller is wide- his fingers, his shoulders, his chest. Right now, his wide tongue is driving you crazy as it swirls against your clit. He devours you, licking and laving all over your drooling pussy, drinking you down and savoring you like you’re his last meal. His eyes stay on your face the whole time, watching you fall apart against his mouth. Your fingers wrap around the dark waves of his hair pulling him in closer, hips undulating against his mouth getting yourself off on the feel of the bristle of his beard against your sensitive flesh. His tongue flattens and runs up and down the shape of you before he dips two fingers into your entrance and buries them knuckles deep. Your back curves at the overwhelming sensation of his tongue on your clit as your soaked walls clench around his thick fingers. 

“Mm, close,” you whimper while your feet thud repeatedly against his strong back. He nods against your core, dark brown eyes still focused on your face. Your heart races at the way he watches you under his thick eyebrows creased in concentration. Of course Joel Miller is good at eating pussy, he’s a hard worker. You wail his name out when you orgasm against his mouth, your body tightens as you flood his fingers and throb for him. He kisses your swollen clit gently, letting a deep moan and chuckle out while you spasm underneath him. 

Joel’s face glistens with you when he lifts his head up, “Welcome to third base.” 

“You haven’t gotten here yet,” you arch an eyebrow and lick your parted lips, still panting for air.

He kisses each thigh with a loud smack before getting up. 

He looms over your blissed out body on the couch and yanks down his pants and boxers, a gulp rolls down your throat at the sight of him. So fucking thick and engorged with a sweet drop of precum rolling down his shaft.

“Wow,” you gasp, rolling to your side to bring yourself eye level to his twitching cock. Your eyebrows rise in awe when he wraps his hand around himself and strokes.

“Yeah?” his voice smolders through you. 

“I’ve thought about what you looked like naked, and now that I see it… wow.” You can’t believe the confession just left your mouth.

“Funny,” he collects a drop of precum on his fingertip and rubs it against your bottom lip,” I thought the same thing.”

Your tongue darts out to taste him, salty, bitter, so fucking manly. You want to taste more of him. 

You bring your lips to the crown of his cock, kissing the tip and running your tongue along the length of his shaft. He gasps, leaning forward to rest his hands on the sofa back. 

“Fuck sweetheart, that’s good,” he drawls when you suck him into your mouth engulfing the thick length of him in the wet heat of your mouth. 

You cup the heft of his balls in your hand… thick cock, big balls, of course Joel Miller has big balls. 

“You’re good at this sweetheart, really fucking good,” he huffs, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as you hollow them and suck him to the back of your throat. 

Your eyes flutter up to watch Joel snarl down at you while his hips buck into your drooling mouth.

“Can’t keep lookin’ at me like that sweetheart, or else we’re not going to get to homebase.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, begging to be filled like your mouth. It’s as if Joel can read your mind, his hand lands in between your thighs and begins petting your aching cunt. 

“Feels like she needs to have my cock in her, doesn’t she?” he says, tapping his fingers against your entrance. “Think maybe we should get to homebase?”

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and lifts you off the couch into his arms, he’s so fucking strong. 

He leaves a searing kiss on your lips before settling on the couch, still holding you close to him. 

“You ready for homebase?” he asks, gazing into your eyes. 

“Put me in coach, I’m ready to play,” you smile, giddy at the anticipation of getting fucked by Joel Miller.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fuck me,” his drawl drips in arousal as you slowly sink yourself down on him, gasping at the feel of his thick cock stretching you. 

Your hips rock back and forth to adjust to the size of him spreading you open. 

“Knew you’d feel so good sweetheart, knew it as soon as I saw you,” he says, peppering kisses across your face and neck. “So pretty, so soft, feels so fucking good.”

Joel Miller always seemed too intimidating, too closed off, too attractive to ever be interested in a neighbor much too young for him, and yet here he is ignoring the baseball game he wanted to watch, instead burying his cock into your pussy.

You ride him, your pace turning more frenzied and desperate the more he chants your name.

The ticks of the fan chains clanging against one another accompanies the sound of your pussy bouncing up and down on his dick. Hips meeting hips, skin hitting skin, breath gasping breath, chain knocking chain. Your fingers wrap around his curls pulling his head up to kiss you. Your breaths puff against his, you can’t hide the blissed out smile that lights up your whole face as he pounds into you.

Your body begins to tingle and quiver when his cock hits the gushy spot that makes you see stars. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” Joel grits against your neck biting and sucking, marking you with his mouth and owning you with his cock. 

You scream a choked sob when your orgasm lights through you, your walls clutch Joel’s cock as you come undone. He grips you harder, pushing you into his chest and holding you as close as he can with his tense muscles as he lifts you and pulls out painting your pussy lips with his cum. You collapse against him, gasping for air against his sweaty skin, darting your tongue out to lick some of the sweet salt so you can always remember the taste of playing ball with Joel Miller. 

“Can I tell you something?” Joel asks, his voice radiates through your ear resting against his chest. 

“Hmm? Yeah,” you sigh.

“My TV still works,” he sheepishly says. You sit up at the shock of his words. “I just really wanted to watch the game with a pretty girl.” He sends you a sultry, guilty smirk that you cover with your lips. 

___ Tagging people who showed interest in my WIP a couple weeks ago for this. Along with my camp coven friends who helped.

@luxurychristmaspudding, @sizzlingcloudmentality, @sawymredfox, @magpiepills, @yxtkiwiyxt

@beefrobeefcal, @ace-turned-confused, @yopossum, @mothandpidgeon, @bitchesuntitled

@maggiemayhemnj, @jennaispunk, @timelordfreya

[littlejuicebox]

You'll stay still, won't you, little love?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex

Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀

-----

You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.

When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction. 

Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give. 

For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.

“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.

“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.” 

He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this. 

“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.

You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.

“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers. 

“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight. 

“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.

“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent. 

“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.

“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.

Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”

You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.” 

“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”

You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.

“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”

Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”

“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.

“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.

He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.

His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself. 

In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.

“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.

“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.

Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.

You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth. 

You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.

“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.

You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.

His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.

“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.

You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.” 

And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.

Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.

Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.

“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.

“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.

As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.

He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.

Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.

“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.

“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”

“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.” 

He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.

[sailorrhansol]

Amnesia | c.sc (m)

❀ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

❀ Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

❀ Word Count: 11,920

❀ Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers 

❀ Type: Smut, Angst if you squint 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes. 

❀ A/N: This was absolutely not what I originally imagined when I wrote this fic - it was supposed to be angsty and frustrating and a lot of back and forth and instead I wrote two fucking idiots who obviously like one another just being down bad. I don’t know how or why I got here, but here we are. Also - Jeongcheol coming out with billiards content after I posted the teaser for this is fucking sENDING me, thank you for making Pool Shark Seungcheol canon. 

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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DAY ONE

You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face. 

Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says. 

Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan. 

He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt. 

It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though. 

“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”

“You have no idea. Wait until game night.” 

“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?” 

“Every Sunday. Do you like games?” 

Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.” 

“So am I.”

He grins. “I look forward to it, then.” 

Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism. 

Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group. 

Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap. 

Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin. 

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.” 

“No, no, you are. Thank you.” 

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.” 

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.” 

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.” 

“I like winning.��

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do. 

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.” 

“I’m down.” 

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back. 

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.” 

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.” 

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?” 

“What will you give me?” 

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful. 

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more. 

You already do want more. 

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment. 

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

-

DAY SEVEN

“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”

You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”

Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes. 

“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.” 

“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.” 

It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet. 

He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”

“You too.” 

-

DAY TEN 

Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :)  You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho  You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here

Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home  You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!  

-

DAY TWENTY THREE

You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad?  Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :) 

-

DAY THIRTY

You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you hungry?” 

You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?” 

“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?” 

Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?” 

“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”

“Alright.” 

-

DAY FORTY THREE

He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.

Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.

Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.

So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.

Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out. 

At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control. 

Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine? 

Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot. 

Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar. 

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not  Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees… 

You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass. 

He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something. 

The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be. 

DAY FIFTY TWO

“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.” 

Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.

Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.

“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.” 

“I do have a shower.”

“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.” 

Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.” 

His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.” 

After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom. 

Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine. 

And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick. 

It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance. 

Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder. 

He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door. 

Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.” 

“Too bad.” 

Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck. 

“I was promised a shower.”

“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.

He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.” 

“Hmmm. I’m listening.” 

He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.  

“I’ll massage your shoulders…” 

“Hmm.” 

His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.” 

Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.

But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him. 

Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.” 

This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.

You always do. 

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily. 

“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom. 

Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on. 

Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin. 

He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs. 

Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?” 

“Shut up.” 

Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door. 

“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.” 

It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing. 

Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist. 

Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves. 

A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns. 

Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth. 

Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.

As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy. 

He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”

“We’re in the shower.” 

He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.” 

“The only crime is pride.”

The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?” 

“Antigone by Sophocles.” 

“What’s that one about?” 

Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.

Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.” 

“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.” 

“The guy who fucked his mom?”

Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”

“Craaazy family.” 

“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”

“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.” 

Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs. 

“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”

Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh. 

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit. 

One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently. 

Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.

“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.” 

“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”

“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”

A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”

Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up. 

When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.

Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you. 

“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy. 

Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance. 

Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it. 

He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm. 

It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.

“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”

“My knees are fucking useless right now.”

“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.” 

You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come. 

“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily. 

Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.” 

“Yeah?”

“All good.”

“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”

“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.

He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance. 

Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.” 

Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin. 

He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.

That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him. 

Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.

When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you. 

“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.” 

And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass. 

He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you. 

For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish. 

Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”

“It’s cute.” 

“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.” 

He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.” 

-

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”

“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”

“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”

“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.” 

Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable. 

“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.” 

“Alright.” 

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” 

You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.” 

He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.” 

Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?” 

That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”

-

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT

“Want to do me a huge favor?” 

You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily. 

“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?” 

“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”

That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.

Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.

But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget. 

So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to. 

Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”

“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber” 

Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs. 

You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it. 

“I suppose I can be convinced.” 

“Oh? What can I do to convince you?” 

You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s- 

“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.” 

He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.” 

His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!” 

-

DAY NINETY TWO

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”

And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing. 

Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you. 

It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.

You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs. 

Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.

He wants to. 

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches. 

When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes. 

He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you. 

Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs. 

Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.

The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much. 

All it took was meeting you.

“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator. 

Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.

You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation. 

When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table. 

“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him. 

His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.

Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements. 

“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.” 

Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.

“This way, wifey.” 

You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.

Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar. 

Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.

He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey. 

Seungcheol wants this. 

He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you. 

Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you. 

The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd. 

His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.

You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by. 

When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.

Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss. 

When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants. 

-

DAY NINETY THREE

“Be my girlfriend.”

The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”

Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.

Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop. 

Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too. 

Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.” 

“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”

His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.” 

“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”

He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”

“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.” 

Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving. 

Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status. 

The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky. 

“Gonna suck something else, huh?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?” 

“Huh?” 

He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”

You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body. 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“You should have seen your face, though.” 

“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”

His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”

“No, but you should have seen your face.”

The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket. 

It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway. 

Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours. 

Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there. 

Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you. 

“Hi,” he breathes. 

“Hi.”

Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire. 

Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch. 

You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.

“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?” 

“Fucking anywhere will do.” 

Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.

Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.

“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.” 

You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.” 

“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”

Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it. 

Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.

Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off. 

“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.” 

“You’re a work of art yourself.”

Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”

Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.

He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily. 

“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.

What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips. 

“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him. 

“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”

“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.” 

You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you. 

Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his. 

Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you. 

“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.” 

You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.

He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft. 

Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth. 

Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.

A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers. 

“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”

“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?” 

“Please give me something.”

He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”

“I can take more.” 

“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter. 

Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you. 

“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.” 

You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you. 

“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over. 

“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.” 

His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.

“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.” 

Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously. 

“Mmm.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?” 

Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.

Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.” 

You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.” 

Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are. 

You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping. 

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.” 

An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.

You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached. 

“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?” 

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.” 

With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little. 

He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself. 

You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you. 

A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you. 

It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours. 

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come. 

You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle. 

Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears. 

When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch. 

“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you. 

Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand. 

“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”

He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”

“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.” 

“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?” 

Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.

“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”

“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”

“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.” 

“Sure thing, wifey.” 

“Ugh. Is that our thing now?” 

“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.” 

A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.” 

“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.” 

You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.” 

“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.” 

“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.” 

“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.” 

“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.

“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.” 

-

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[distantdarlings]

STRAY FROM ROUTINE // m. riddle

RATING: R / 4.5K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* You wake up with an evil plan to ignore Mattheo Riddle until he cracks.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, spanking, thigh-hitting, dom!mattheo, sub!reader, mean mattheo, slight breeding kink, controlling mattheo, reader is resisting (but she's doing it on purpose), toxic relationship values, name-calling, degradation, language, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ride or Die, Pt. 2 - Sevdaliza (I can't get it out of my head :'))

- - -

The inspiration that struck you as soon as you woke up was one of some kind of age-old genius. The motivation that came with it seemed to cloud your mind like some kind of drug, flooding your mind and inhibiting all other thoughts that attempted to enter your brain the rest of the day.

You had always been a bit of a shit-starter when it came to Mattheo Riddle, but today, you were feeling downright sinister.

Your eyes flicked across the room to catch the dark boy’s oaken eyes. His strong hand lifted from the counter to toy with his bottom lip teasingly. Every move was calculated, down to the way his shoulders moved when he took in a breath.

He skirted through his usual routine of tracing his eyes slowly down your body, then flicking them back up to steel his eye contact. For the first few months of your relationship with him—if that’s what you wanted to call it—that whole intimidating facade had worked on you effortlessly. But now, you knew he was more bark than he was bite. That was, as far as you could tell.

You supposed that after sleeping with him so long, he’d have lived up to his whole King Mattheo act, but he'd fallen short. You were disappointed, to say the least. The majority of the entire student body, including some teachers, were terrified of this boy that currently stared you down, but you seemed to be missing something.

Was he good in bed? Hell yes. Could he get mean? Also yes, but where was the difference? As far as you could tell, he didn’t fuck any differently than any other Slytherin boy you’d been with. They were practically all the same. Mean, dominant, and rough. They usually had some kind of ego to keep up—or a tiny dick to compensate for. Whatever it was, Mattheo didn’t seem any different.

He was mean, dominant, and rough. The only thing that had surprised you about him was how gentle he was beneath it all. With every bruising thrust, his fingers cradled your hips gently where others gripped with their nails. With every mark he sucked into your skin, he darted a tongue out to soothe where others let it simmer. He was a rough lover, but he was still a lover. The others were just rough.

That was what had kept you going back to him so many times. But you were getting impatient. It was time for Mattheo to step his game up, or you were going to get bored. You wanted him to prove to you that he was different. But you didn’t want to have to ask for it. You just wanted him to know to do it.

By the time the last of the breakfast crowd had dissipated and the campus prepared for their first periods, Mattheo hadn’t broken eye contact once. Nor had you. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do—for Mattheo or any one else—it was back down from a challenge. If he wanted to tease and stare and frustrate, you’d do the same.

Finally, he stood with the rest of his group of friends. They headed toward the door but his focus remained on you.

The tip of his wand peeked out from the edge of his uniform sleeve and, with a few mumbled words, a small slip of paper had collapsed from the tip of the wooden object. It hit the floor silently, and weaved through the swarm of feet marching through the Great Hall. Once it had reached you, it stopped just before your shoes beneath the table.

At risk of being caught by your friends, you refused to glance down at it. But, just like he always did, Mattheo had thought of everything. With a shiver, you felt the piece of paper slide up your leg like a slithering snake.

It slunk over the curve of your knee and seemed to wait for you to grab it. Ignoring the thought that it seemed to be alive like some sort of bug, you slipped your hand beneath the table and pulled the slip of paper toward you. Discreetly, you opened it up and looked down at it.

How do you want me to take you today? was scrawled in heavy, broad strokes across the sliver of parchment.

You bit back a smirk. That little fucker.

But, no. With the inspiration you had today—the inspiration to push Mattheo Riddle as close to the edge as possible—you weren’t going to allow him the satisfaction.

In fact, you were going to ignore him entirely until he cracked. That was the plan and you were settled with it. While this likely wasn’t the best thing for your own health, you weren’t too concerned. Mattheo Riddle was an asshole, but he wasn’t a murderer. You were pretty sure, anyways.

Satisfied with your decisions, you smiled lightly and pushed the piece of parchment into the first pocket of your school bag. As soon as you returned to your room, it would be placed with all of the other notes he had passed to you. Even though you weren’t wildly impressed with Mattheo’s performance so far, it was still nice to have the dirty, little notes sitting around for a rainy day.

- - -

And throughout the rest of the day, you stuck to your plan like glue. Every stare, every sneaking touch, every whispered word from Mattheo was met with a brick wall. You simply weren’t interested in any aspect of his usual antics, today. He needed to earn what he refused to admit he wanted so badly, which was you.

And by third period, you could tell he was nearly ready to explode. His jaw was clenching and unclenching, his fists were wrapped so tightly together, the knuckles were almost completely white. He was fucking angry—possibly angrier than you had ever seen him. And that was exactly what you had wanted. You wanted him to know that you were a million times different than any of the other girls he’d romanced so far.

He tried once more to entice a little desire from you just toward the end of class. The two of you sat in the last two rows at the very back of the classroom.

The room was elevated with the back rows at the highest point of the room, overlooking the rest of the class. Any secret movements were noticed simply by the backs of heads and a nonchalant teacher.

Mattheo sat directly behind you with one of his unnamed friends to his left, and another to that boy’s left. You were alone on your row. The class was not that big. But this was exactly the kind of environment a sly boy like Mattheo Riddle loved. He would take any opportunity he could to slide his dirty lips against your ear and whisper any deviance that popped into his head at the moment. And that’s what he’d done.

His head had settled just beside yours. You’d heard his breathing before even notice the heat from his skin radiating onto yours. A shiver passed through your body at his proximity. Annoyed at your body’s involuntary reaction to the dark boy, you slipped your arms beneath the table to hide the chills sprouting across your flesh.

He must have seen them, though, because a small breath of a smirk passed across his face in your peripheral.

“I don’t know what your game is, little girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you’d better straighten that attitude up, or I swear, I’ll fix it myself.”

He didn’t say another word before he leaned back against his own seat, leaving you to wonder whether or not this was a good idea. You reminded yourself that intimidation was his shtick. That was the majority of the reason everyone was so frightened of him. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually beaten anyone up or done anything to anyone who’d wronged him. Like you’d said, he was all bark.

Still, despite his threatening words, you simply flipped your hair over your shoulder and completely ignored him. He scoffed, seemingly suppressing a laugh. He was mad. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you right now.

Besides, you were sure you’d never hear the end of it once it was all said and done.

Once the teacher had announced that class was over and recited the homework assignment to a crowd of deaf ears, you gathered all of your things quickly and made a beeline for the door. You hadn’t even given Mattheo a second to gain a bit of awareness before you were out the door and halfway down the hallway.

You didn’t have a fourth period, but Mattheo did. He had Potions for the next hour, giving you just enough time to spruce up your appearance a bit and prepare for the storm that was brewing. You knew Mattheo well enough by this point to know how this evening was going to go. He would threaten your body within an inch of its life, ask if you ‘knew who he was,’ then he’d fuck you. Just like he always did. There was too much of a pattern. Not enough spontaneity to keep you occupied—you needed more. Hopefully, today was what did it for him.

The dormitory you shared with your mates was completely barren due to their schedules. Out of the five of you, you were the only one that had chosen fourth period as your free period. It seemed odd to you that they would rather have a late start to the day, than an early end. In your opinion, you’d wake up as early as you had to, if it meant you did not have to yawn your way through the last classes of the day.

You dropped your bag onto your bed and made for the small desk that was positioned just beside the headboard. It was stocked with all of your personal hygiene products—organized impeccably—and various bits of stationery for schoolwork. It served as both a desk and a vanity for you while you were getting ready in the mornings—or getting ready to see Mattheo.

You hoped he would be desperate all through his class. You hoped his eyes would be flickering around nervously, his knee bouncing rapidly, sweat dripping down his throat. It would be a sight to behold.

Mattheo was gorgeous—there was no denying that. It was just his attitude that needed adjusting. You smirked to yourself before taking a seat at your desk, glancing at your appearance in the small mirror you’d propped up against the stone wall.

And before you were even able to apply a second layer of mascara, the large wooden door in the corner of the room rattled violently. Three aggressive knocks permeated the silence so roughly the dust motes illuminated by the sun shuddered wildly.

A chill of anticipation settled in your stomach. Surely, that couldn’t be him. Fourth period had barely even begun.

You rose from your desk and crossed the length of the room, every step echoing through your body like a cannon. Why were you so nervous? The possibilities of consequences of your own actions were really starting to rattle around in your skull.

Your fingers wrapped around the bronze door handle and pulled.

Sure enough, on the other side, stood Mattheo Riddle. A malicious smirk was printed across his lips. He glanced around a few times, seeming to scan the surroundings of your dorm.

“Hi, is there anyone else here?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet. The courteous role he was playing made you all the more nervous. He never acted this way, even when he’d come to your dorm in the past. He was usually just as brash as he usually was, no matter who was in the room.

“No, there’s not,” you said, your voice annoyingly shaking just a bit. “And if you don’t mind, I’m actually pretty busy—”

Just as you started to push the door closed again, Mattheo’s foot slammed against it, completely blocking its path. You tried to push against him, but he was much too strong for you to defend against.

“I’m sure you can spare a few moments for a quick chat,” he nearly growled, never dropping the fake smile planted on his face. His strong arm pushed against the door, rendering your protection of it completely useless. He pushed through and into the room as if you’d never been holding it in the first place.

He kicked the door shut behind him as soon as he stepped through, the door clunking shut with a rough thud. You suppressed a flinch at the loud sound, refusing to show any sign of vulnerability. You couldn’t pull away from your plan now that you were feeling his anger—that was cowardly.

“Mattheo, I’ve asked for you to leave,” you warned.

“Yeah? Just answer one question for me, baby…” he said, stepping directly into your personal space and invading it in every way possible.

As if asking for permission, he raised his hand slowly and let it hover just next to your cheek. When you did nothing, he placed his fingers along your jawline. They stroked gently across a small surface area, insisting that you felt every searing second of contact.

His face came impossibly close against yours. His warm breath fanned slowly across your cheek, hints of fire and cinnamon lingering beneath your nose. The feeling of his lips skirting slightly over your skin on the way to your ear sent a myriad of chills down the length of your arms and a pool of heat between your thighs. You silenced a shudder on its way through your lips.

“Did you act that way on purpose?” he whispered. His lips caressed the curvature of your ear, his hot words curling around the room. “If not, I’ll find a new girl to open her legs when I want. But if you wanted this, I will make you regret ever having turned away from me.”

You swallowed thickly, the sound piercing the blanket of silence that fell around the room the minute Mattheo stopped speaking. It irked you to no end, that the entire world seemed to hold its breath to wait for this boy. This dark, irritatingly impossible to resist boy. It was more than you were able to handle, no matter how determined you were to prove a point.

“What I wanted…,” you trailed off coldly. “Was for you to prove to me that you’re not exactly like every other Slytherin that waltzes in here, comes in ten seconds, and then asks me if I’ve finished. I’ve been waiting for that special something to jump out at me, but it just hasn’t. I’m getting bored of you, Mattheo.” You took a deep breath, gaining enough courage to flatten your face and select your next words perfectly. “Speaking of, I was wondering if your friend, Enzo, was single.”

You struggled to not smirk at his reaction. If you didn’t know Mattheo, you’d have assumed he was going to crash out and leave the room. But you knew him and his destructive tendencies. His rage, though extremely stigmatized, was something to be in awe of, and you were ready to see it. And to be the target of it.

His eyes darkened until they were barely reflecting any of the dim light around the room. His lips parted slightly, just enough for an evil smirk to stretch across his face. He was all dark eyes and sharp canines, and it looked as if he were desperate to sink them into your flesh.

“You’re fucking done,” he whispered menacingly.

Then his hand was around your throat, firm and bruising. He walked you backwards until your back roughly hit the stone wall, the cold rock biting into your shoulder blades. His lips met yours with a fervor you’d never seen before.

His tongue cruelly parted your lips and laid claim to the entirety of your throat. You could hardly breathe with the pressure he was applying around your neck and the force of his kiss. Yet, still, you could not deny the heat building within your stomach and radiating downwards.

His free hand wrapped around your waist, the fingers slipping slyly beneath the waistband of your uniform skirt. Just as always, in the midst of the fiery storm, his fingers were able to imitate some form of softness just long enough for his hand to prepare to rip your skirt away. Despite the roughness he provided everywhere else, his fingers were gentle as they slid along your skin so as not to pinch it against the wall. It was just thoughtful enough to melt your heart down into a broiling golden puddle.

His strong hand gripped the material of your bottoms and pulled them roughly down, revealing the absence of anything beneath, save your blackened tights. When he lifted his hand once more to tear your panties away, he recognized the lack of material within his fingers and growled against your lips.

“You fucking wanted this, you dumb slut,” he spat, his pearlescent teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip. With a whimper and flash of white across your vision, he finally released you, leaving behind a thin slathering of blood across your teeth.

“You wanted me to tear you to pieces,” he whispered, his hand finally freeing your throat, but only to get to work on ripping your uniform shirt apart. The buttons clattered wildly across the floor, rolling freely each in their own directions.

You moved to protest but Mattheo shoved you back against the wall. He shook his head as if in disbelief you’d even try to get away from him at this point in time. In his mind, this was well-deserved punishment. If you were his girl, you were going to fucking listen to him. You knew what you were getting into when you first laid your lips on his.

With your shirt split down the middle, the only thing standing between his lips and your heaving body were a lacy bra and a pair of tights. The cold, gray air hit your soaked body so aggressively, you thought your teeth might start clacking together.

“All this going to waste because you couldn’t ask me for what you wanted,” he whispered. “I’m going to have to destroy this gorgeous body, when it should be worshiped.”

To your disbelief, he sank down to his knees and placed his hands gently on the back of your thighs. His scorching mouth made contact with your thighs—still covered in the thin material of your pantyhose—and he began to place wet, biting kisses along your flesh. He moved slowly from just above your knee to the top of your thigh. Each mean kiss ached as if they were done by a wild animal, but—just as he always fucking did—he soothed them with his skilled tongue afterwards. Never letting you hurt for too long.

Once he reached your core, fluttering in anticipation, he took a deep breath. The scent of your desire filled his senses as if it was his last meal. Just from how he’d loved in the past, you could tell that he was refraining from devouring you. But this was a punishment. No matter how sweet or caring he so often was, he was never going to let you have what you wanted.

“But that won’t do today…” he whispered against the surface of your tights just above your core, so close that his lips brushed across the sensitive skin. You withheld a whimper.

“Seems like it wasn’t happening any other day, either,” you chuckled breathlessly. You weren’t dropping this fucking routine. You wanted this and every inch of teasing Mattheo wanted to give you.

He laid a biting slap across your left thigh. The sound of it echoed throughout the room, only being interrupted by the cry that left your lips at the sudden abuse.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he demanded, his hand soothing the sore flesh.

He pressed one more kiss to the blossoming handprint, before sliding a short nail against the hosiery, ripping it instantly.

You gasped at the sensation, watching as he pulled on the material. It shredded down your leg, exposing your bare thighs to the pale light. Flaming red fingerprints bloodied the soft flesh and marked you as his.

Despite your annoyance at his lack of excitement during the last few times you’d fucked, the feeling of possession that he’d laid on you always made an impression. You felt like you belonged to him in every aspect of the word.

Then before you were able to let another smart-ass comment fly, he slipped his hand beneath the large shear in the tights and ripped a hole right across your aching groin, baring your searing cunt to the world.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Even though he was intending to punish, Mattheo couldn’t help but appreciate your body just a little bit. Though he wouldn’t admit it just yet, he could die happily buried within you.

Seeming to realize his “punishment” was a bit too sweet, he gripped your hips roughly and flipped your body around to face the wall. You helped aloud as the craggy stone bit into the skin of your breasts through your bra. The lace mixed with the cold wall made your nipples prick almost uncomfortably.

“Gonna fuck some manners into you, baby,” he murmured, his gravelly voice echoing against the curve of your spine. His mean fingers traced each nodule of each vertebrae until he reached the dimples imprinted in the small of your back.

His thumbs pressed deep against them, rubbing an easy massage into them for just a second.

“Feel good? You got any other dumbass things to say?”

“Why waste my breath? I’m gonna have to fake my fucking orgasm in a few seconds.”

You bit back a moan as he reached through your legs, gripped the hole he’d ripped in your tights, and widened it between your thighs. He pulled it up and over your ass.

“Yeah? You fake it every time, baby?” he growled into your ear, his heavy bulge pressing into your bare ass.

“Yeah,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your hands were settled against your desk, fingers tightened around the edges, nails scratching into the wood. Your back was arched uncomfortably against his core, begging for every slight thrust he pressed into you. You could practically feel him within you already.

“You fake it every time you cum all over my cock, huh?” he asked. Behind you, you could hear him wrestling his belt out of its loops and dropping his trousers.

“Answer me, bitch,” he demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back against his chest.

“Fuck, Matty, that hurts!” you whined. It was a good, searing kind of pain but you didn’t want him to know that. Didn’t want him to know that your arousal was dripping down your legs by now.

“Yeah? That hurts?” he taunted. “That’s nothing, baby. You can take it.”

Then suddenly, his hot core was leant against the top of your ass. You were biting back a moan and running your fingers into the desk so hard they were going numb. Still, you weren’t going to give up.

“We’ll see if you can give it—fuck!”

He shut you up by slamming himself into you. The force of his intrusion hit your cervix at a sharp angle, sending stars into your eyes.

“Let me hear you fake it, yeah?” he groaned as he pulled himself out of you all the way to the tip before pushing himself back into you.

You couldn’t hide it anymore. Though you could still force some mean comments out every once and a while, you were unable to repress your moans.

“I’m basically an expert at this point!” you moaned.

“I bet,” he growled, his hips increasing in pace. “I know the way you clench around me everytime I take you from behind—” every sentence was pushed out between deep groans that echoed in your womb— “I’ve memorized every possible way you can scream my name…and I’ve learned every single thing I have to do to make that pretty pussy cum all over me.”

Following his words, his right hand snaked around your hip and pressed directly against your clit. He rubbed perfect circles into the sensitive spot, demanding a finish from you as soon as he could pull it from you.

“You’re a bit too cocky for my liking,” you breathed against his ruthless pounding. “I’d still like Enzo’s number.”

And with one final thrust, he pierced the bubble of pleasure that had bloomed rapidly in your stomach. You came impossibly hard, with the evidence of your high embarrassingly gushing around him. He pulled away from you and let your desire cover his stomach.

He laughed almost maniacally at the way your orgasm stretched out for what felt like hours.

And then, as you were finally coming down, he was pumping himself noisily into his hand and coming all of your lower back, painting the dimples he so loved to touch.

He moaned breathlessly, a slight crack in his voice, as he slowed his movements down and came down from his own high.

A tired laugh left his swollen lips as he trailed his finger through the remnants of his spend on your back and pushed his coated fingers into your sensitive entrance.

The overstimulation sent a flurry of ice up your spine. You cried at the sensation. Your legs fluttered before giving out.

On your way down to the floor, he caught you against his arms. Your knees were impossibly weak, but he was ever so strong.

“You faking this too, baby?” he clicked his tongue before settling you against your bed.

“Fuck you,” you sighed, your eyes fluttering against the ceiling. The lightheaded feeling floating through your skull was nearly too much for you to handle, but you were still high up on your pedestal and refused to come down.

Distantly, you could hear him pulling his pants up and rearranging his clothes.

Gently, he slid the remainder of your hosiery down your legs, unhooked your bra, and lifted you up off of the bed bridal-style. Somehow managing to cradle you with just one hand, he used his left to yank your comforter back, and settle you beneath it.

He leaned down beside your ear and pressed his lips to your temple. Just before he pulled all the way back, he began to whisper.

“The next time you wanna act like that—just remember that I fucked you to sleep, brat.”

- - -

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[nctsworld]

fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.  

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.  

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again. 

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation. 

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.  

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow. 

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else. 

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles. 

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck. 

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market. 

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm. 

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually. 

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark. 

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

[shawtuzi]

HIDE N’ SEEK FT. GOJO SATORU

summary- you and your boyfriend decide to play a little game of hide and seek at a halloween party

content warnings include- modern au, a little plot but mostly smut lmao, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, shoe humping, fingering, a little groping from gojo, sorta needy!gojo but he’s also pretty mean, unprotected sex, rough sex, tongue sucking bc i’m obsessed w it rn, squirting, creampie, geto is a perv, rushed ending, not proofread /// wc: 3.1k

a/n- hi!!! i’m back kinda from my hiatus so pls enjoy this bc idk when the next time i post will be lmao

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

gojo <3: i see you.

your heart rate began to pick up as you read the ominous text from your boyfriend. your eyes looked in every direction hoping to see someone in a ghost face mask on their phone, but unfortunately no such luck.

“why did i agree to do this . . . so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself as you shoved your phone in the back pocket of your sexy nurse costume. to add a little context you and your darling boyfriend, gojo satoru, thought it would be fun to play a little game of hide and seek at the costume party/bonfire one of his friends was throwing. you hide he seeks. the only catch was neither of you could have your location on and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the game. all you had to do was make sure gojo didn’t “tag” you before midnight. simple right? not.

you had thought nothing of it when he said he was going to be ghostface come to find out more than half the people at the party were dressed as the masked killer. it was easy to spot you of course—with your skin tight red and white dress and red stockings but trying to decipher which one of these people were gojo was simply impossible.

gojo was standing a few feet away from you, a sinister smile on his lips. he could see how frustrated you were becoming and boy was it a cute sight to see. your brows were furrowed and your red, glossed up lips were pulled into an adorable pout. you had the slightest tinge of fear in your eyes—between that and your costume he was becoming more riled up as the minutes ticked by.

you glanced at your phone—

11:42 PM

only eighteen more minutes and you were golden! you glanced at the part of the woods where it was dark and unoccupied with any party goers, without a second thought began to walk over to finish up the rest of the time. little did you know gojo was trailing behind you, quietly giggling at how silly you were for making this so easy for him.

“s’freezing out here,” your hands rubbed up and down your arms that were now covered in goosebumps. the only sounds that could be heard was the bass of the music from the party and your feet crunching against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground along with—another pair of footsteps???

you whipped around and were met with nothing but the party goers in the distance. you knew it was just a fun little game but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that overcame you. you had half a mind to text gojo and call off the game but with only ten minutes left you decided to stick it out.

after a minute your phone buzzed in your pocket.

gojo <3- found you :)

“wha-?” all a sudden your front was pushed into a tree, you felt someone’s weight press against you along with something plastic poking against your throat. “i found youuu,” gojo giggled, pressing the plastic knife more into your neck. you pushed your backside into his hard on making him groan right into your ear. “no fair ‘toru…couldn’t find you anywhere with all those people wearing the same costume,” you whined, slick beginning to stain your lacy white panties.

gojo hummed and without a second thought shoved his free glove covered hand into your panties, cupping your sensitive pussy. “c’mon baby you know i don’t like to play fair let’s not act dumb hm?” you couldn’t see his face but you knew just from the tone of his voice he was grinning from ear to ear. gojo used his middle finger to rub at your clit, giving you minor relief while he humped your ass. you both stayed like that for a moment before he began to grow bored.

“suck my dick,” was all he said, removing his hand from your panties much to your dismay. “but—but ‘toru—” you were cut off by gojo squishing your cheeks together roughly. he pushed you down by your shoulders, not caring that the twigs were scraping and poking against your soft skin. (don’t worry he’ll bandage you up later if need be <3)

“now if you recall from earlier..” be began to unbuckle his belt, “we agreed that whoever won got to do whatever they wanted with the loser right?” he waited for you to nod your head before continuing. he slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his briefs halfway down his toned thighs. “and who’s the winner?” he giggled, tracing his almost painfully hard dick against your lips. you darted your tongue out to get just a little taste of him, making satoru visibly shudder. “you, you’re the winner,” you mumbled, setting your hands in your lap.

gojo cradled your face his hands, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip off the ghostface mask and kiss you till you were breathless. “don’t look so sad babydoll, i’m about to fuck your throat and your little pussy so good let’s look alive yeah?” he gave your cheek a rough couple of pats. he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open your mouth.” you parted your lips and with little to no warning gojo shoved the digits down your throat, impressed that you had kept your gags to a minimum. he rubbed your saliva around the length of his dick and gave himself a few quick strokes before pushing the tip against your lips.

you wrapped your lips around his dick and gojo’s hand immediately found purchase on the back of your head. “yeah . . . jus’ like—fuck, l-like that,” although he was putting on a tough façade for the sake of the situation it was fading away quicker than he had anticipated. you were just so good with your mouth :(

you didn’t even care that you lost, now too enamored in the pretty sounds that were slipping past gojo’s lips. and you both certainly didn’t care that anyone could possibly catch you in the act. “i need to record this shit goddamn,” with shaky hands gojo held up his phone and started to record you, quietly apologizing for the sudden flash of light in your face. you played it out a little for the camera knowing gojo was definitely going to use this vid for times when he’s by himself. you wrapped both of your hands around his dick and worked quick pumps around the tip while your other hand moved slowly up and down the base.

satoru felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking on his balls, nearly dropping his phone in the process. “you’re s-so fuckin’ hot, so hot n’ a-all mine yeah? please say it,” he didn’t give the slightest fuck how pathetic he sounded. all needed in this moment was for you to tell him his dick belonged to you and you only and vice versa. “yes toru all yours,” you hummed leaving kisses around the base of his dick. that was all he needed to hear before he tossed his phone to the side and began to brutally fuck your poor little throat.

each time your nose pressed against his pelvis from deep throating him it just gave him more incentive to put a fat rock on your finger and never let you go. your dress had ridden up and without even thinking gojo pressed the top of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. “hump it, hump my fuckin’ shoe and cum from it,” his ‘demand’ was shaky and breathless but nonetheless you listened to your boyfriend and started humping his shoe.

between gojo still ruthlessly fucking your throat and the laces of his shoe rubbing deliciously against your clit you were overstimulated beyond belief—and it felt incredible. he loved when he could turn your brain into a pile of mush and you enjoyed it just as much. after holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for god knows how long gojo removed your mouth from his dick, finally letting you get some air. you didn’t know if it was alcohol, the blunt you took a few hits of, or just horniness in its purest form but you were feeling insatiable.

you wrapped your arms around his thick thigh and planted your knees firmly into the ground before moving your hips with quickness. gojo was surprised at your actions, his dick visibly twitching at you getting off on his fucking shoe of all things. “i’m—i’m close, can feel it toru i’m—o-oh my!” a sharp gasp left your lips when gojo began tapping his foot just the slightest. “jerk me off n’ let’s cum together,” you didn’t need to be told twice as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, suckling on the tip as well to bring him even closer to his peak (and to avoid getting cum in your face/hair heh).

you both came in unison a chorus of moans and groans leaving both of your mouths. “that—that was good, you’re so good y/n c’mere,” gojo was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed your back right against the tree that was shielding you both from any potential spectators. “i wanna kiss you so bad,” he spoke softly, cupping and massaging your breasts over your thin dress. “but i really wanna fuck you with this stupid mask on,” gojo gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease, you weren’t even the littlest but surprised when his impatient ass practically ripped your panties in half trying to get them off.

“put it in for me,” gojo muttered, blindly shoving your tattered panties in his back pocket. you complied whispering out a little ‘anything for you toru’ before slowly swiping his sensitive tip between your pillowy soft folds. just as you were about to slide him in you heard voices and footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer and closer. “w-wait someone’s coming!” you whisper-shouted but that didn’t stop gojo from pushing his dick into you with one swift thrust. a broken moan emerged from your throat and you were quick your cover your mouth with both hands.

“put your fuckin’ hands down no one’s gonna see us,” gojo hissed, his toes curling from how tight and hot you felt. you hastily removed your hands making gojo smile behind the mask. “they might not s-see but they’ll—hah! hear us toruuu,” you whined burying your face in his neck.

gojo made sure your legs were securely wrapped around his waist before yanking the ghostface mask off, he pressed his lips against yours without missing a beat. “guess i’ll just have to keep kissin’ ya to make sure you don’t make to much noise yeah?”

“yeah . . . . you’re right.”

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“do—do you guys *hiccup* here that?” a drunk, poor unknowing geto slurred out, his brows furrowing at the sound of grunts coming from the darker part of the woods. of course no one responded, too invested in literally anything else besides geto’s drunk ramblings—plus his jason mask muffled anything he had to say.

geto pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on, nearly falling over in process. “guess i’ll go look myself…dickheads,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the suspicious noises. he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a particularly loud groan and that’s when it started to click. “holy shit . . . h-holy sh—”

“satoruuu!”

if geto was in his right state of mind he would’ve turned around with a quickness and forget this ever happened—but he’s not. his feet stayed planted, not daring move an inch closer. he hadn’t even realized be was starting to palm himself over his pants—already half hard. he could feel his heart in his throat as he took one step forward . . . and then another . . . anddd another.

he stopped once he could clearly hear the schlick schlick schlick noise of gojo pounding mercilessly into your poor pussy. he couldn’t see much but he could hear everything. he could hear your cute little pants and whines as you tried to poorly keep quiet, he could hear gojo muttering what must have been dirty promises into your ear, but in his opinion the best thing he heard was how sloppily you and gojo were kissing.

anytime your moans were becoming louder and more high pitched gojo would smash his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth without warning. gojo sucked your tongue into his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest when he felt you tighten around him. “you taste like alcohol . . . you been drinking tonight love? is t-that why you’re being so—hah! fuckin’ loud? hm?” his ring and middle finger began toying with your clit and your lips started to tremble. hot, salty tears began to run down your cheeks making gojo giggle. “you’re s’cute when you cry, please cry more for me,” he cooed licking at the never ending stream of tears flowing from soon to be bloodshot eyes.

“you’re—you’re such a *sniffle* p-perv ‘toru,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his snow white locks. when you have a particularly harsh tug gojo’s knees buckled the tiniest bit, nearly making him lose his balance. “i see you’re feeling pretty mean huh? lets fix that . . . only thing i need you to feel is numb.” gojo removed his fingers from your clit and without warning shoved the digits between your lips. man oh man did you wish he would’ve taken those stupid gloves off, what you really needed in this moment was the feeling of gojo’s soft fingertips prodding at the back of your throat.

gojo slowed the pace of his thrusts, more focused on fucking your throat with his fingers. once he had his fix he removed his fingers from your mouth, smearing any excess saliva on your lips and chin. he slowly pulled his dick out, the moonlight mixed with the dim light from the bonfire making him glisten with your slick.

“n-no! no no don’t do that here someone will definitely hear me ‘toru,” you pouted, knowing good and well what gojo’s intentions were. gojo hummed as he rubbed his fingers between your soaked folds, pretending to to thinking about the consequences of his actions before giggling once more. “oh well!” he smiled, inserting his fingers into your pussy, immediately finding that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“god do you hear how wet you are? such a slutty fuckin’ pussy goddamn,” gojo growled, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. you didn’t know how the fuck he was holding you so steady with one arm but you couldn’t even bother to care, too focused on your upcoming orgasm. “p-please . . . please add ‘nother finger ‘toru i need it,” you gasped loudly, back arching against the tree when you felt gojo begin to suck at your breasts over the thin material of your dress. gojo added another finger, increasing his pace until he felt your legs begin to shake.

he brought his lips close to your ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe. “you’re so lucky we have to walk in front of everyone once we’re done or i would’ve torn this dress to pieces,” his words had your toes curling, and your eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.

while you were quickly chasing your peak geto was trying his absolute hardest not to reach his just yet. his pants were pulled down just enough to let his aching dick out and he wasted no time stroking himself to your pretty moans.

it was no secret to the three of you that geto had found you attractive—shit with the way gojo boasts about your guys’ sex life how could he not be curious??? yes curiosity. that’s all that this was. once he got off he would walk away and never think or speak of it ever. but he couldn’t help but think of the next time he sees you walking around with a limp and accidentally starts to wonder what positions gojo could’ve possible put you in . . . or wonder how brutally he had fucked your throat when he hears how hoarse your voice sounds.

his thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched moan that was quickly cut off by what he assumed was gojo’s lips on yours. he heard gojo say in a teasing tone ‘you tryin’ to baptize me over here?’ and he nearly cummed imagining your fucked out face and trembling legs.

a spurt of cum landed on your thigh and gojo tsked, shaking his head. “that won’t do, gotta be inside you now so i can finish inside,” he hummed, realigning his dick with your entrance. he pushed in with one swift thrust and that’s when your finally felt your brain turn into a muddled pile of nothing but lust and want. although it was dark gojo could still see the dazed look in your eyes and it brought a blissed out smile to his lips, which were now stained red from your lip gloss.

“c’mon baby talk to me, how do you feel?” gojo purred, pressing his forehead against yours. your words kept getting caught in your throat and all you could mutter out was a pathetic ‘feels s’gooood’. gojo could slowly feel himself begin to crumble, mumbling out incoherent sentences along with you. “i know baby i—shit, i know. feel so good ‘round me, so perfect you’re so perfect gimme a kiss,” he smushed his lips against yours with a clash of tongue and teeth—his fav kinda kisses.

“gotta big load for you baby, c’mon cum with me i know you can do it,” gojo’s words of encouragement finally brought you to your peak and this time you both just let it out. every pushed down moan and groan could be heard from anywhere if anyone paid close enough attention but neither of you could find it in you to care. gojo’s hips stilled as he emptied himself inside you, his tongue lolling out in the process. you were quick to bring your hands to his soft locks, gently scratching his scalp. “don’t do that, gonna make me too tired for the drive home,” he chuckled, giving your sweaty neck a sloppy kiss.

“speaking of, how am i supposed to walk with all this in me it’s a lot satoruuu,” you whined, feeling the urge to smack gojo on the back of the head for tearing your panties in two. gojo sighed, stroking your bare thigh gently with his thumb muttering something along the lines of ‘i’ll handle it’.

while you and gojo took a minute to regroup from your intense fuck session, geto was regrouping himself from possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. of course he felt disgusted with himself for spying on his best friend fucking his girlfriend but he also wanted more???

this was definitely going to be a problem.

[ctrlchar]

HIII can you do something like were your giving Johnnie head while he’s playing video games with his friends or streaming on twitch or filming a video and he’s trying so hard not to moan and he gets so fed up he fucks you or something idk 🗣️👍

giving Johnnie head under his desk headcannons

a/n: I loveeee this idea sm thank you for the request!!

cw: kinda public? it’s through a screen but you get the point,somewhat rough,

he’d be sooo pissed off but at the same time he’d love it sm

it would be whenever he’s live,leaving you to your own thoughts as he played a series of games with his friends on twitch

every once and while whenever he got a break from the game he would talk to you and give you a little kiss if you were still in the room with him

of course this wasn’t enough

you had considered humping his pillow on his bed but you figured it might be too obvious if he repeatedly been looking over at his bed

eventually Johnnie had decided to pull away from his chair to go and grab him a water bottle which was on his desk

seeing this window of opportunity, you crept under his desk sitting on your knees as he gave you a confused look which was just barely out of frame of the camera

you began to unbuckle his pants,making it abundantly clear as to what your intentions were

you took his for now soft cock out of the restraints of Johnnie’s jeans and began to slowly stroke it

Johnnie on the other hand was trying to put all his attention on the game which had just begun a new round rather then the sensation between his legs

you had begun to take the tip into your mouth,his hips bucking up slightly which to anyone watching looked like he had just been readjusting in his seat

every time you would take more of him into your mouth he would curse out a profane word with a “cough” at the end

to the viewers it looked as if he had simply gotten pissed off at his game but to you that was obviously not the case

his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping his mouse to keep his composure

your tounge danced against the underside of his cock driving him absolutely batshit insane

after a couple more minutes of you teasing his cock his friends conveniently decided they had played enough games for the night and decided to end their streams making Johnnie follow suit

“alright guys” he says his voice cracking a bit at the end “i’ll see you all later” he says before quickly ending the stream

as soon as he ends the stream you remove your mouth from his cock going back to slowly stroking it

you giggle softly and look up at him as he runs his hand through his hair before he pulls himself from behind his desk

“what the fuck was that” he asks seeming upset however you both knew he wasn’t genuinely upset at all

however he was to a degree pissed

“i was bored” you pout “and you wouldn’t give me any attention”

i mean all you wanted was his attention so that’s exactly what you got

he proceeded to bend you over his bed using the spit off of his cock mixed with your own slick as lube as he pushed himself deep inside you bottoming out in one push

“tryna get me fuckin’ caught up huh?” he says thrusting into you at a even faster rate then before,the obscene sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room

“thinkin’ you can tease me and get away with it” he grunts out to which you whine due to all the pleasure coursing through your body

you couldn’t even form sentences because of how good he was making you feel. all you could do was moan out a string of apologies as his hands move to your hips

“i don’t think you’re really sorry” he admits “if you were sorry you wouldn’t be creaming all over my fucking dick” he says punctuating the last two words with a thrust.

looking down to see what he was talking about you noticed the white ring that had formed around the base of his cock

he begins to slow down his thrusts giving you a minute to talk before going back to his relentless pace

“mhm I promise m’ sorry” is all you could cry out with tears forming at your eyes

his ring clad hands grip onto your hips which was sure to leave bruises the next day but you didn’t care

if anything you wanted him to leave bruises you wanted to have a constant reminder of just how good Johnnie fucks you

mutually, he wanted the bruises to stay as a reminder to not tease him like that again

his grunts turn into moans as he approaches his long awaited orgasm

he could tell you were getting close as well from the way your back was arching off the bed to the way your moans picked up and got even higher then before

with his tone softening up he moves one of his hands to your hair petting it softly “come on baby cum for me” which was all you needed to hear

your nails scratched down his back as you came hard,almost on the verge of shaking had Johnnie not been holding onto you

with a couple more thrusts Johnnie had came inside you,as he slowly pulled out watching his cum drip out of you

after a couple minutes of you guys laying together on his bed you look up at him from where you had been laying on his chest

“you’re not actually mad are you?” you ask looking up at him

his face softens “of course not baby” he says leaving a light kiss on your head as he held you close in his arms

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: Tara thought out of all people she hates you the most, until she met her… and why the fuck does she follow every where you go?!

tags: enemies to lovers, flirting, drunk at party, y/n is an idiot, new girl, tara is jealous

word count: 2.2k

Late again but enjoy! Sorry for mistakes i´ll correct them later.

„Help me!“ you yelled into your mic as you gripped the console tightly.

„What? I can´t even see you!“

„You idiot I´m on the fucking ground right behind you!“ 

That was the routine for these past days, you and Ethan were playing, and something some of your or his friends joined to play with you. You were sure you lost a lot of nerves but it was also something you couldn´t say no to.

„Oh sorry!“ you heard Ethan as you watched as his character turned around and crunching beside you to pick you up. Not even a second after you saw another player appear right behind him.

„Ethan!“

„What?“

„Turn around! Right behind you!“

„What?“

Just then the player started to shoot him from behind making him yell and run away from you leaving you right where you were. You tried to crawl as fast as you could behind something to cover you but it was for no use. Then you saw Ethan´s character fall on the ground in the same position as you were now making the enemy kill you both. You slammed your hand on the table almost breaking it.

„You idiot! Why did you leave me there? I was almost up!“

„He was shooting me from behind! What was I supposed to do?!“

„Argh! We lost our streak because of you!“

„Me?! You were the one that was on the ground! I was trying to help!“

It was like this almost every game. Just the both of you screaming at each other throwing the blame on one another. But at the end of the day, you say happy goodbye like nothing happened. The loud banging on the wall from the other side was like a message for you to stop and go to sleep.

-

You were sitting in the back of the class with sweaty palms and your knees up and down. The heart inside your chest kept racing and you were sure your beat rate was at its maximum.

„Could you stop already? You are making this much worse than it is!“ Tara hissed at you from beside you with clenched teeth. You were so nervous. It was the day of your presentation when everyone from the class went in front of the board and presented their topic.

You always hated this kind of stuff and you aren´t ashamed of telling the truth. You may seem confident or nonchalant most of the time but this was something that was hard to change.

„Sorry.“ You whispered as you put your hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. Tara´s eyes softened a little as she looked at your side profile. You were trying too hard to stay calm using every technique that came to your mind like deep breathing or trying to remember something funny or the fact that this was something everyone was going through and you are not alone.

Not long after you got it done and positive to say your professor was also happy about your work giving you marks belonging to the work done.

„I´m so glad we´ve after it.“ Chad breathed out air from his lungs. You were sitting in a cafeteria with your friends.

„Exactly! I was so nervous about it and that´s not even in my element!“ Mindy said as she picked up the croissant from her plate to her mouth.

„I´m sure you weren´t nervous as Y/N.“ Tara said with a smirk on her lips. You turned your face to her being a little offended by her words.

„I was not that nervous!“ you yelled at her as if you were trying to convince them. Or maybe yourself.

„You were like I thought you would pee yourself in any second.“ She added turning away from you to eat her food. You stomped on her foot hard making her yell in pain.

„Y/N!“ Mindy scolded you.

„You fucker!“ the young Carpenter turned to you with a mad expression ready to kill you. Oh, how much that calmed you down. You smiled at her which quickly fell into a pain expression as she kicked you right below your knee with all her strength.

You crunched into the table laying your forehead on it in pain. „You little rat I hate you so fucking much.“ You whispered with your eyes almost closed and your knees in both of your hands.

Just when you wanted to say something more you heard someone saying your name. With a confused expression, you turned to the side seeing the girl from the shop.

She was walking with a group of friends which kept walking as she stopped to talk to you.

„Hey, how are you?“ she asked with a gentle voice looking into your eyes. Not long after you met at the shop you got the message that someone wanted to follow you on your Instagram. You didn´t want to know how she found you, not like it was important either. You just didn´t expect that.

„Oh hi.“ You looked up at her from your spot. You could tell your friend were looking at the both of you with different expressions on their faces. Everyone was surprised at the interaction, only Ethan looked like he wasn´t. „I´m good, how are you?“

Chad cracked a little biting his lower lip at you. You´ve never talked to them with that sweet voice you were using now.

„I´m great! Sorry I didn´t wanna bother you I just wanted to say hi.“ She quickly explained herself feeling guilty for ruining the fun you had with your friends.

„Oh no, don´t worry, really. It´s all right.“ You smiled at her noticing that her friends stopped a couple of feet away from you looking at her with smiles and giggles. „Your friends are waiting for you. Not like I want you to go away! No! I mean you can stay as long as you want you know-“

She giggled at you as you were trying to explain yourself. „It´s fine Y/N like I said, I just wanted to stop by. I hope you have a good day.“ She then turned around and speed-walked to her friends.

Your eyes were still on her looking at her fading body into distance. Just then you were cut by a loud laughing. You rolled your eyes knowing exactly who it was.

Almost all of your friends were holding their stomachs from the laugh. Chad pressed his hands together and brought them up into his chest looking up in a dreamy way. „Oh, you can stay as long as you want! Please don´t go away!“ he said in a high high-pitched voice trying to make fun of you.

Your jaw tensed at him as you were growing more angry with each second. „I don´t  sound like that!“

„But you did!“ they laughed. „I´ve never heard that voice Y/N oh my you must like this girl!“

The vein on your forehead started to form as you stared at your friends in anger. „I don't like her!“

Ethan was quietly sitting beside you looking at you. „I like her for you.“ He said softly. That made everyone silent looking at him.

„And since when do you know her?“ Mindy asked him.

„Oh I and Y/N already talked about her, right buddy?“ he said not meaning to be a tease. Chad only laughed harder making you even more mad. Ethan quickly looked at him and at you again. „Sorry Y/N! I didn´t want to make you mad.“

„It´s fine Ethan.“

„Oh but I´m a little offended how come Ethan knows already about her but we do not?“

You just breathed out and shook your head at them not having any more energy. You just picked up your food slowly taking a bite.

Tara was quiet like she was trying to process what just happened. What the fuck did that girl see in you? It was more than obvious that she liked you or at least that she was interested. You were annoying and stupid, you were always playing games and never studying. Why would she even stumble across you?

She looked at your calm expression and at the little red on your cheeks. That only made her more angry.

-

It was Friday and you were currently at someone´s birthday party. You got yourself a little more drunk than usual but that doesn´t mean you don´t know where the drinking barrier is. You danced and drank and laughed you were happy enjoying yourself with your friends.

You and Chad were competing who would drink more shots which was stopped by Mindy. You danced with Ethan who was a lot more loose than he normally is. You knew tomorrow you would probably hate yourself and Chad too but that was the problem of future Y/N.

You went into the kitchen trying to find something more to drink. Luckily for you, no one was in there at that time. You were opening cabinet after cabinet when you came by some luxurious-looking alcohol and champagne.

You wanted to grab one which was hidden behind only for you to stumble yourself from the chair making you fall on the ground.

There was a loud sound of the glass breaking and your body falling onto the ground. „Ouch.“ you let out softly.

„What the hell are you doing?“ Tara ran to your drunk ass laying on the ground trying to get up.

„Uhm I fell.“

„I can see you imbecile I asked what the fuck were you doing? Come on get up.“ She tried to get you up by your hands but saw that you were cut on your right arm. You were bleeding and you didn´t even notice that. Just when you saw Tara´s face you saw in what state was your arm.

„Oh my God Y/N! You´ve got glass in your hand I can see that!“

„Oh yeah? I can feel that!“

 It was a pretty deep cut but nothing serious. Tara quickly ran to the sink and grabbed some tissues with scissors and alcohol.

„What the hell are you doing?“ you were crawling away from her fearing what that girl had in mind.

„I wanna help you stop running away!“ she was trying to get to you. Tara grabbed you by your good arm. „Stop moving you idiot!“

„I don´t wanna die!“ you cried as you were moving around like some insect. If someone walked into the room and saw the scene they would probably think that she is trying to kill you.

„Stop yelling!“ she put the bottle of alcohol beside you after getting it on the tissue softly cleaning your wound. You hissed at the feeling but didn´t move. Tara was taking the glass away crunching on the floor beside you.

She looked up at your face only for her to see that you were now drinking the alcohol she bought to clean your wound.

„Y/N! What the fuck!“ Tara yelled grabbing the bottle and pulling it away from your mouth. „Are you out of your fucking mind?“

You giggled gently at her drunk. She was looking at you as if you were serious. She couldn´t help but crack a little at your behavior. You were an idiot.

After your giggles, you were just quietly sitting there looking at the girl in front of you.

„Your right dimple is deeper than the left one.“

Tara´s breathing stopped for a moment. Suddenly her vision was worse and her heart fell into her stomach.

„What did you say?“ she asked gently with her soft big eyes looking at yours.

„Everytime you smile your right dimple is more visible.“

Tara´s eyes widen at your words looking down at you. She didn´t know how much time had passed since you were sitting there but to young Carpenter, it was like a second. A second before someone stepped into the kitchen breaking off the tension that was created in the room.

„Oh my God Y/N! What happened?“

It was the girl again. She ran in your direction trying to find out what happened. Tara´s nerves were on top all of a sudden.

„I´m fine don´t worry.“ You somehow said with your eyes barely open. You slowly stood up with her help making her hold tight onto your arm.

„I´m taking you to mine you can´t go home all by yourself like this!“

Tara looked at the girl with a sparky smile. „Don´t worry about that Y/N and I live beside each other I’ll take  care of that.“

The girl looked at Tara and her face dropped. It was clear that she wasn´t a fan of her but that didn´t matter to her.

„Okay, I see.“ She looked up at you talking your cheeks in her hands making you look at her. „Take care, I´ll text you tomorrow.“ She then got on her tippy toes and kissed your cheek. Tara´s hands formed into fists and her jaw tensed. After that, she walked away leaving you both alone, not before looking at both of you one last time. Tara brushed the skin on your face right where that girl kissed you and took your hand into her and started to walk away from the party.

Yeah, like hell she will text you.

[nyankochan]

Post Game Celebration

Synopsis: After winning an important game in the spell drive tournament, Leona finds you for a post victory ritual of his

Content: Leona x reader (no explicit pronouns used), quickie, semi-public sex, dry humping, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

Word count: 900

The final buzzer blares and the game concludes with a deafening roar of the crowd’s cheers. Night Raven College’s victory secured with an overwhelming 56-39, curtesy of Captain Leona Kingscholar’s guidance.

Everyone is excited, rightfully so, as the victory ensures Night Raven’s place in the inter high semi-finals where winning would put them against the school’s long time rival, Royal Sword Academy, in the finals. It had been close to 50 years since NRC last came even close to the semi finals.

With all the excitement and commotion, you’re unable to get to Leona. So you decide to sneak off to the hallway outside of the locker room. You wait about ten minutes before your boyfriend appears, your face brightens when you see him.

“Leona! Nice game today!” You say excitedly. “Congratulations on your win!”

Leona walks up to you. Without a word, he grabs your hand and pulls you along, around the corner and into one of the storage closets. It’s cramped, dark and smells faintly of moth balls. There’s mostly boxes and a few small pieces of sports equipment.

“L-Leona?” You stammer as you’re pressed against the wall.

“Just keep quiet,” Leona grunts. The thrill of the game. The rush of the victory. The pent up adrenaline. All of it has left him burning with need, and he had to make up some excuse in order to get away from everyone hounding him about the win. “Fuck. Don’t move.”

You can feel the bulge of his growing erection press against you as Leona nudged his knee between your legs. He clenches his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he grips your hips tighter, rutting against your harder and faster.

You feel your face flush. It’s hot already in the closer, but his close proximity has your body burning.

“Fuck…I need to cum,” Leona groans. He can feel his dick twitching in his pants, straining against the tight material of the spell drive uniform. The friction both stimulating and suffocating. “Help me out, will ya?”

You barely have room to move as you reach down to unzip his pants. Leona involuntarily shivers as you squeeze his bulging erection through his boxers. A wet spot begins to stain the fabric as he bucks into your hand.

“You really that pent up?” You huff breathlessly.

“Stop teasing,” Leona grunts out. He buries his face in your neck, canines grazing the skin. “Fuck I’ll cum in my damn boxers at this rate.”

“That won’t do for the winning Captain, now would it?”

Leona nips at your neck making you shiver. “Then do something about it.”

As you pull his cock out of the confines of his boxers, you wrap your legs around Leona’s waist. Leona hisses as your cold fingers stroke him teasingly slowly, smearing his pre up and down his shaft. You’re teasing too much. And though he hates it, it feels good when the pad of your thumb rolls across his sensitive tip or when your nails trace across the vein on his cock.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” He twitches, feeling his abdomen tighten. His body rocks and he has to rest his elbows against the wall when he suddenly cums in your hand. His sticky seed drips down your fingers, some getting on the floor and some on the sweater and skirt you wear.

“S’much,” you mumbled, bringing your fingers to your mouth to lick them clean.

“N’ough playing around.” Leona presses your firmly to the wall so you can’t move. With your legs around either side of his waist, he flicks up your skirt just to move your panties to the side enough for him to slide his cock into your awaiting hole.

Leona kisses you when you whimper too loudly as he bottoms out in a single thrust. Tears prickle your eyes and you feel so full from the angle he penetrates.

“M-move,” you whine. You wrap your arms around Leona’s neck as he fucks into you hard and fast. You feel lightheaded as the tip of his cock reaches that sweet spot, making your breath hitch.

“We can’t leave a mess,” Leona groans. “You gonna walk around with my cum all in your underwear, yeah?” With the way you clenched around him at his words made him grin. “Such a lucky lil thing aren’t ya, herbivore? No one else gets to be fucked by the spell drive Captain.”

“M’gonna cum, Leo-“

Leona kisses you to muffle your whines. He hisses when you bite his lip and you clench around him so tightly that his orgasm draws out soon after yours. Your body trembles. Skin flushed and sticky. Leona fulfills his promise, cumming deep inside before moving your underwear back to its original position to keep any from spilling out.

Your legs are wobbly. You fall against Leona when you try to stand. Some of his cum seeps through and dribbles down your leg making you shiver. “T-this is so embarrassing…”

“You weren’t complaining just a minute ago,” Leona scoffs, shedding his jacket to wrap around you. He peeks out the closet to make sure the coast is clear before ushering you out quickly.

“You do this every time,” you mumble, barely able to stand right.

Leona rolls his eyes before picking you up, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple. “You’re my good luck charm after all. I’m always going to win when you’re by my side.”

[monster-match-if]

Welcome to Paradise!

A few decades after the mystical veil between the human and supernatural world was shattered there are still efforts done to fully integrate the two societies. What better way to achieve that than an international & interspecies dating show?!

Ten lucky beings are going to be selected for the first ever edition of Monster Match, and embark on a month-long vacation on a tropical island. Follow your heart or mind when making decisions and win the public’s favour. At the end of the month, the fan favourite couple will win a whopping cash prize of €500,000, to keep or split between them.

Couple up, have fun with the various challenges and most importantly stay alive find love!

And beware of what’s lurking in the shadows!

Genre: Reality TV dating show, monster fu- lovers. Love island the game, but with monsters. Strictly 18+!

WIP - some things may still change on the way.

Play as Male or Female.

Choose to be a Sweetheart, a Charmer or a Flirt.

Have fun or stir up some drama between the other contestants!

Find love or do it all for the money.

Split the prize, or keep it all to yourself… if you win.

Choose between 5 gender selectable ROs and two male partial ROs.

Try to figure out what's happening to the eliminated contestants or ignore the gnawing feeling.

Entirely choice based, the stats are there for flavor text. This is an excuse to write monster, ermm, loving content. The story is rated 18+ and will contain NSFW and maybe some gore along with other dubious things. There will be fade to black options and skippable scenes as well as preference options and some pretty tame and sweet routes, but why are you here if monsters are not your thing? Read at your own discretion!

Morgan → Vampire🦇 - M/F - 6’  Tall and pale, with dark hair and crimson eyes, and an infuriating naturally gorgeous body. Always has the hair styled neatly and preferes classy clothes. An incurable flirt. Expect: Blood and biting related activities. Not particularly loyal.

Elindorn / Eli → Deep forest elf 🏹 (basically a drow) - M/F - 5'7 / 6'4  Tall with an athletic swimmer’s body. Dusty lilac skin, long milky white hair and pale silver eyes that seem to look into your soul. Expect: actually… the most well adjusted of the bunch. Elves mate for life.

The bombshell - Blake → Incubus/ Succubus🌶️- obviously M/F - 5’8/ 6’4  Deep brown skin, short curly black hair and vivid blue eyes. Horns and tail in their “true” form. Skimpy clothes to attract potential vict- partners. Expect: open relationship, multiple partners, life… sucking?

Kitai → Kitsune 🦊- M/F - 5'5 / 5'11 (Casa Amor contestant) The shortest of the group, but the most attentive and ready to please. Ivory skin, long jet black hair and yellow eyes.  Expect: probably the sweetest, most wholesome route, tails - nine of them.

Fionnlagh / Fion → Cecaelia 🐙 (yes, tentacles) - M/F - 5'6 / 6'3 (Casa Amor contestant)  Tanned skin, long wavy red hair, and green eyes. Eight crimson tentacles in their “true” form. Expect: foursome options, but otherwise tentacles and fun, dubious consent-ish if you squint.

Partial ROs

Ragnar → Werewolf 🐺 - M - 6’9/ 8' when in werewolf form Only RO available strictly to F MC and only one who will break up with MC if they cheat or don't have the same views. Tall and built like a mountain, with lightly tanned skin, brown hair and beard and kind brown eyes. Covered in tattoos. Expect: *sigh* knotting, breeding, bestialityithink??

Seishish  - Sei  → naga 🐍 (yes 2 🍆) - M - 6'2 / 11' long with tail out  The Host - not being a contestant will limit interactions in the first half of the story, but he is also an endgame RO. Rich olive skin with a golden hue, long wavy platinum blonde hair, hazel snake eyes. Gains a lot of length in trier half-snake form, the tail an iridescent golden colour. Expect: dubious consent-ish if you squint, ovo…ovi… the eggpreg thing.

Other OG contestants

Warlock/human - Gael - M Human - Kat - F Siren - Oralla - F Fairy - Feyre - F (original name, I know) Angel - Arael - F Demon Azrorath - M

Demo coming soon