#i wasn’t even looking at the jaw I was looking at the big brown eyes I was mentally just dead on the floor Jesus Christ

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[rowanhoney]

you know when you meet someone in passing who’s just SO attractive you don’t stop thinking about it. Yeah.

[egglain]

Letters to Santa

Rating: E (18+) - mdni Pairing: Nanami x GN! reader Content: dickcember day 4 - sexting, at work, desire

if there’s a prompt + character you want to see next, requests are open! send an ask :)

Nanami Kento was a hard worker.

He always clocked in on time, took his lunch at the same time, left his desk right as the clock hit 5.

Which is why this could not happen.

Mouth full of rice– part of the pretty bento you had packed him that morning– he had opened his phone for the first time this shift. 3 unopened message badges lit up his screen. This was always his favourite time of day; the moment he gets to hear your thoughts, to wish you a good lunch.

On his screen, at full brightness, he opened his text app.

hi <3

[1 image attached]

hope u like :) see u soon!

Nanami Kento was a hard worker.

As in– his cock had never been harder at work.

Fuck.

Thick, strong fingers typed a speedy response as white teeth worried the inside of his cheek.

Darling.

Fuck.

***

Taking a bite of your sandwich, you couldn’t help but grin at Nanami’s curt response.

Your handsome husband was perfect in every way– attentive, thoughtful, competent. The only downside? He was uptight. As fuck.

So to swear?

And at work, nonetheless?

You wish you could see him now– even if it was just as a fly on the wall.

yes, kento? <3

You finished your sandwich, calm as ever. You could witness him squirm all day without batting an eyelash– he was so easy to tease.

Five minutes passed; you put away your lunch, settling back in your rolling chair as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone.

Your lock screen lit up with a notification from Hubby <3.

[1 image attached]

Nanami Kento– your gorgeous, composed, responsible husband– was a nasty little freak.

The photo was taken from above, angled downwards in an industrial grey bathroom stall. A spotted tie was trapped between pearly teeth, chiselled jaw working the fabric. A brown leather belt hung open, khaki pressed chinos unzipped and pushed down blonde-dusted thighs.

Look what you did.

Nanami’s veiny left hand wrapped around the shaft of a pretty cock. Blonde dusted his abdomen, trimmed neatly to frame his pale, girthy base. 

Fix this.

Now.

Those eyes bore into yours through the screen. He wouldn’t take no for an answer; not when he was like this.

As much as you wanted relief yourself, you knew better than to scurry off to a bathroom stall. Nanami Kento was like a bloodhound; he always knew when you had satisfied yourself (in his words). He did not take kindly to the idea, much preferring to have you unravel on his fingers, tongue, or cock.

This was a test, of sorts– if you could stay strong, get through the day being good, your reward would be so much sweeter than any half-assed release you got from your left hand now.

so needy <3

As much as he played the role of a put-together, dominant husband, Nanami Kento flustered so beautifully under your subtle teasing.

[0:14]

A voice note popped up on your screen. Fumbling for your earbuds and triple checking they connected, you hit play.

Through heavy breaths, soft grunts punctuated the rustling of what you presumed to be his arm– if the soft plaps were anything to go by.

aww,,, touching yourself, bby? 

at work? 

u just wanna get found

Somewhere across the city, a very red Nanami Kento fucked his fist harder.

[0:32]

This time, it was a video.

The breaths were louder. It was taken low, clearly filmed using his thighs to steady the camera. The dull, blushed head of his dick was slicked beautifully; clear precum welled up at his tip as that big hand fisted his cock. Long fingers spanned his length, stroking his many inches from base to tip. As he reached the head, strong digits squeezed, wringing out his precum and running the pad of a thumb through the mess. 

He looked utterly edible.

just like that, bby

keep goin for me

You grinned, taking a peek around your cubicle to ensure you were alone. Most of your coworkers were long gone for lunch, so there wasn’t much danger, though it was a very public space.

Still, you couldn’t help unbuttoning the top of your shirt, snapping a sneaky picture of your chest.

[sent: 1 image]

need u bby <3

waiting so good 4 u rn

You had no idea just how much you affected your composed husband.

Fuck

Dotn say that shit

A typo AND two swear words? Oh, he was fucked up.

Seconds later, it loaded.

[1 image attached]

A shaky photo, taken from above just like the first. His pretty cock stood angry against his abdomen, red from tip to base. Veins strained against his thin skin, dick so beautifully swollen. A sinful bead of his thick seed drooped heavy, mid-roll down his shaft. The ropes of his release sullied his hands, connecting those thick fingers with pearlescent strings.

You wanted to put your mouth on it.

need u so bad kento.

A beat.

Yeah? Wet at work, darling?

Naughty as fuck, sending me lewd pictures like that. What if Higuruma had seen?

I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, slut?

No touching yourself.

You’ll cum enough tonight.

banners by @strangergraphics!

[illyrianbitch]

Words of Affirmation

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

Warnings: established relationship fluff :)

Word Count: 2.3k

just a quick sweet fluffy piece to make up for all my angst. dedicated to the one and only @sarawritestories

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian would never admit it, but the assumptions of his intelligence bothered him. He was always a brute, a mindless warrior, a soldier— nothing more. He knew, deep down, that his brothers rivaled him in all matters of the mind. They were more collected, more capable with familial matters and court affairs. Simply put, they were smarter. 

And he had accepted that— at least, he told himself he had. After all, he was talented where it mattered. He was a good male, a good friend, a good brother, a good commander— and amazing in bed. So truly, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did when his meeting with Eris went sour. 

Cassian entered the room with heavy steps, a frown on his face as he began to peel off his coat, each movement slow and heavy with frustration. A part of him hoped that he could shed more than just the layer of clothing, hoped that coming home would rid him of the insecurity that had threaded itself through his ribs.

You observed him quietly, taking in the way his muscles tensed and released with each motion, the subtle clenching of his jaw, the deep exhale. He hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t made his classic entrance. On most days, Cass would return home with a huge grin, door thrown wide open as he bellowed out your name with a burning heart.

But he was quiet today. And you knew exactly why– you could feel it through the bond. Cassian was sad. 

Your footsteps were quiet against the wood floors as you slowly walked towards him. 

“Things didn’t go well?” 

Your voice was soft and gentle and the sound of it sent a ripple of relief through his body. Still, he felt heavy. Tired. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally discarded his coat onto a nearby chair. “I don’t know how Rhysand does it.”

“Does what?” 

“This whole diplomacy thing, even Azriel. I just… I couldn’t. I'm too stupid for it. Just an idiot.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a heaviness settling on the glowing bond in your chest. You wanted to console him, to fight and kill whatever it was that was unsettling him so deeply. But the thing that was causing Cassian pain wasn’t anything you could fight yourself. It was his own mind, the insecurities he was too afraid to acknowledge. 

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he waved you off with a frustrated gesture.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his tone heavy with defeat, “I’m just whining. I’ll get over it.”

You frowned, letting out a small breath. 

“No, don’t say that,” you said gently, taking a step closer to him. “You’re allowed to be frustrated. But you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not?” 

You took in the sight of your mate for a moment, took in his long hair and brown eyes, took in the stubble on his jaw and the way he let out a small breath. You extended your hand to him, voice low as you murmured, “C’mere, honey.”

He hesitated for a moment before he gently took your hand and closed the distance between you, large arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you. 

“You are a big ole’ dummy,” you teased lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you put your hands around his neck. You felt Cassian melt into your touch ever so slightly, eyes shuttering closed as a small hum left his lips. “But you are brilliant. Like really fucking smart.”

Cassian’s eyes opened to meet yours, somewhat narrowed in skepticality. You rubbed the nape of his neck with your thumbs. 

“I mean, you’re a war general. You’ve commanded hundreds of soldiers, have won countless battles– wars, even. You couldn’t get away with those things as an idiot.”

Cassian grumbled, but you caught the hint of a smile dancing in his stormy eyes, felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. A wry chuckle bubbled up from deep within him as he shook his head, his lips quirking up in a brief smile.

“Well, I don’t know about that one, we have Beron and Tam-”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Would you just let me compliment you?” You interrupted with a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows raised as you looked at him. 

A soft chuckle escaped him. “My bad.”

“You are so incredibly smart,” you repeated earnestly, slightly pulling him down and urging him to place his forehead against yours. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze heavy as he searched for something in your eyes. He seemed to find it as he gave you a small smile. “You really think so?”

You pulled yourself back gently, dropping your hands from his neck to take his in your own. Then, you gently guided one hand to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

“Does it feel like I’m lying?” you asked softly.

Cassian’s expression softened as his gaze flickered to where your hand held his. You watched as a glow of warmth lit up his eyes. 

“No,” he said quietly, “It does not.”

And then he was bringing his hands to hold your face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly, his lips a gentle caress against yours.

He wasn’t sure if he believed it yet, if he was comfortable enough with considering himself to be smart, let alone brilliant. But you, his beautiful mate, the love of his life— you thought he was smart, you thought he was brilliant.

And truly, that's all that mattered to him. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn’t that he was insecure about his looks, no, that wasn't it. 

Cassian knew he was attractive, knew that he was hot and ruggedly handsome. He knew from the looks that he got from females and males alike, from the scent changes that he caused, and the lovers he had bedded. 

But sometimes, when standing next to Rhysand and Azriel,  Cassian would catch himself wondering if he was rough around the edges in ways that his brothers were smoother, more appealing. After all, they were the two more classically pretty males, the more softly attractive and very often audibly complimented. 

And then there was him, the rough warrior. 

Attractive, yes, but pretty? Elegant? Those were never words used to describe him. 

There was a soft glow in your room tonight, gentle shadows casted across the bed from flickering fae light. Cassian let out a deep sigh as he prepared to climb into bed, his muscles aching and head heavy as he shed the remenands of his day. 

You watched him with a tender gaze as you lay on the bed. The faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. Cass caught your gaze with his own, a warm hearty brown that made your heart flutter. 

A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed your lingering stare. "You like what you see, sweetheart?" 

You grinned, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you tilted your head. "Always.”

With a grin of his own, Cassian began to crawl towards you. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Admiring how absolutely handsome I am?” he said, “How Incredibly sexy?" 

You let out a small laugh as he reached your face, his body hovering over yours. With a gentle hand, you pushed back his tousled hair, your touch feather-light against his skin. A soft sigh escaped him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the warmth of your touch. His lips wore a content smile. 

"So beautiful," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you traced the contours of his face with your fingertips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes scanned your face. You ran your finger along the crease that they created. "Beautiful?" 

You nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Yes, beautiful. Maybe I don't tell you enough."

He chuckled softly as he leaned into your touch, heart swelling with warmth at your words. There was a new flutter in his chest that he didn’t recognize. For a moment, Cassian felt shy— he wasn’t quite sure why. But he laughed it off all the same. 

"That's a word reserved for you, sweetheart." 

You shook your head, your fingers trailing down his cheek to cup his face in your hands. "My beautiful mate,” you whispered, "My handsome, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, and beautiful mate." 

For the first time in a while, Cass was stunned, unable to respond as quickly as he was used to. Your words held a certain reverence to them, a sincerity that made him melt into your touch— made him melt into your voice itself. Before you, Cassian never knew himself as something gentle, as something capable of softness and sensitivity. But here he was before you, in all of his warrior glory, feeling like a child with a playground crush. And there you were, staring at him like he was the most exquisite thing you’d ever laid eyes on. So when words failed him, Cassian did the only thing he saw fit. 

He leaned in to kiss you tenderly, bringing his lips to yours softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, feeling his warmth against you as he smiled into the kiss. From deep within your chest, you felt a glow— a deep, ethereal, and overwhelming glow. 

Beautiful, his mind echoed, beautiful. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a soft sigh as you settled onto the couch with Cassian, pushing yourself further into his warm chest as he wrapped an arm around you. You’d spent the night at the River House, drinking more wine than you could handle and eating almost all of Elain's sweet desserts. There was a smile on your face as your eyes closed, your hearing quickly tuning into the heartbeat of your mate below you. 

You frowned when the sound began to quicken, echoing like a drum in your ears. You pushed yourself up, slightly turning your body and placing a hand on Cassian's chest. When you looked up at him, his face was scrunched, his gaze distant as if lost in contemplation.

Cassian wore a specific face when he was troubled, furrowed brows and a downturn of his lips. He wore it was he was sad or frustrated, when he had thoughts that plagued him at night. The face before you was a troubled one, indeed. But it was less rough than the others he bore, more vulnerable.

You slightly tapped against him with your palm. Cassian blinked at the sensation, then he slowly looked down to meet your eyes with his own. You let your chin fall gently on his chest. 

“What's wrong?”

Cassian managed a smile, shaking his head as he brought his hand to run over your hair. “Nothing.”

You frowned. “Tell me.”

For a moment, Cassian’s thoughts traveled again. Mor’s laugh echoed in his mind, wine glass in hand as she pointed at him. You have the subtlety of a war horn. You’re so loud I can hear you across Prythian. I don’t know how Y/n handles it all the time.

"Am I too loud?" 

His voice came out rushed, drenched in a tinge of what you could only describe as worry— even doubt.

A flicker of surprise passed through your features. “What?”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Mor said something tonight, it just got me thinking.”

“Mor says a lot of things. Especially when she's drunk.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement, tongue running across his teeth before he let out another sigh. “But she had a point tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

He took a moment to take you in, to trace the features of your face with his eyes. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through your hair. 

“Maybe I am too loud.”

Cassian's voice was defeated now, lips naturally falling into a frown. The crease between his eyebrows was still there as he peered down at you, hand still caressing your head.

You stared at him for a moment before you responded. "You're so loud." 

A flicker of disappointment crossed Cassian's face. But before the thought could spread through his mind, a soft smile graced your features. You gave his chest a small kiss. “But I love it. So very much.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up, a sense of release evident in his features as his lips curved into a smile. The crease between his eyebrows faded. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you affirmed, your voice filled with a sincerity that made his heart flutter. "My world would be too quiet without you."

Cassian’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently swiping loose strands away from your forehead. “Yeah?” 

You nodded against him, chin still resting on his chest. “I hear everything I love in your voice.”

He smiled, the bond deep within him singing as he stared at you. He felt you tug at it, felt a roll of warmth run through his body— something gentle, something loving. And for a minute, Cassian could have cried at the sensation, could have cried at the way you looked at him, at how happy he felt. 

With his heart swelling, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice filled with a depth of emotion that he couldn’t quite express in words. He hoped that you could sense it, that you would hear those words and know everything he was trying to say— that you would understand just how much you meant to him, how your love filled him with a sense of peace and belonging he never knew he needed.

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his now steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know,” you said, “You practically scream it from the heavens.”

Cassian let out a deep laugh, the sound reverberating through his chest. You felt his body move from under you, felt as the sound caressed you like a pair of warm hands. 

As his laughter subsided, Cassian pulled you closer to him. “I’ll keep shouting it so you’ll always hear it,” he whispered.

A warmth spread through you at his words, a feeling of love so strong it was tangible through that sacred tie that connected you.

“And I’ll keep listening.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

me not writing angst?? (i’m about to write the most gut wrenching pieces ever) unheard of. but we love a sweet established relationship <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

[jobean12-blog]

It Had to Be You

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Summary: Your best friend is Tommy's girlfriend so naturally meeting Tommy's brother comes with the territory. He's gorgeous and you definitely want to get to know him better but it doesn't seem like that's in the cards. In fact, it seems like he'd rather be anywhere but near you so when Maria suggests a weekend away touring breweries and relaxing at a Bed and Breakfast with her Tommy and Joel, you're first thought is, "hell no!" But after some begging and pleading, Maria gets you to agree and Tommy wears down Joel, but what will the weekend bring? More grumpiness and exasperation or will you and Joel finally learn to get along.

Author's Note: This is for the lovely Kate's @burntheedges "Roll a Trope Challenge" I got #4- Enemies to Lovers. And I may have snuck another trope in there too haha! I sort of got carried away with it but it was fun to write and while I didn't focus as much on their first few meetings, I hope it comes across that they didn't get off to the best start but this little weekend away changes everything. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: grumpy Joel, teasing, tension (all the kinds), flirting, softness and fluff, a few curses, lots of meddling (in the best way), confessions, dry humping, smut (If I missed anything let me know)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

“No fuckin’ way Tommy.”

Joel shakes his head as he leans against the kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand.

Tommy stands across from him, exasperation etched across every feature.

“Come on big brother, you could really use the time away.”

“Not with her,” Joel retorts. “Why would you even bother asking? It’s not like we have the best track record. Shit…”

Tommy hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, and in that moment looking every part the mirror image of Joel.

“You won’t even think about it?” Tommy pleads.

“It’s too early for this bullshit. We have to get to work,” Joel grumbles in response.

“That wasn’t a no,” Tommy chimes back with a winning smile. “I’m gonna wear you down.”

Joel slams the door to his pickup and comes round the hood, pinning Tommy with a murderous glare.

“You’re never gonna shut the hell up are you?” Joel asks.

“Not until you say yes! What problem could you possibly have with brewery tours and beautiful scenery?”

Joel’s eyes narrow. “You know exactly what my problem is.”

“Well, you need to get over it. Give it time, get to know her better.”

“Get over it my ass,” Joel mutters, hands on his hips and jaw set in a firm line, as if that explains everything.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something unintelligible before he scoffs, “fine. But if things go to hell in a handbasket it’ll be all your doin’.”

Tommy let’s out a triumphant whoop and then pats Joel on the back, hard.

“See you tomorrow morning brother, bright and early!”

You stand outside the truck at the curb, watching as Tommy arranges the bags in the most efficient way possible. Your best friend enjoys the view of her boyfriends ass as he stays in a continuously bent over position.

“You know if you stare any harder his pants might disappear,” you joke as you poke Maria.

She giggles and smacks your arm but still doesn’t remove her eyes from Tommy’s backside.

“Actually,” you start, sliding your eyes over to Joel who’s inspecting the front end of the vehicle. “If Joel actually helped maybe we could get out of here faster.”

Dark brown eyes lift and meet yours with a look of disdain. “What was that sweetheart?”

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you grunt. “Get your ass over here and help!”

“Is that what you’re doin’?” Joel asks as he saunters over, looking you up and down. “Or maybe you just wanna stare at my ass?”

He laughs when your face contorts into a look of disgust but still he walks over and starts to help Tommy.

“His ass is almost as nice as Tommy’s,” Maria whispers to you with lifted brows.

You intend to look away but now your focus has been drawn to exactly that-his ass- and it’s a fine one.

“Whatever,” you scoff and turn toward the door of the truck.

Tommy takes the wheel first with Maria in the front seat, leaving you and Joel squeezed into the back.

“Think you could save some room for the rest of us,” you mumble when you feel the press of Joel’s knee to your thigh.

His legs are spread wide, one lazy arm draped between while the other rests along the window’s edge.

He looks over at you, then down at his crotch.

“No,” he deadpans and spreads his legs wider, bumping you again.

“How soon until we reach the first brewery?” You ask Maria. “I’m going to need to be drunk this entire trip.”

That earns a laugh from everyone and when you look over at Joel you can see the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile.

After a rousing game of twenty questions, in which you and Joel argue through most of it, the banter quiets and Tommy puts on the radio. You can feel yourself nodding off, your body slowly sinking closer to Joel, but you fight it, consistently trying to peel your eyes open and lean toward the window.

The first thing you feel is the cool air on your face and then the slowing of the van. You inhale sharply and stiffen as you come back to consciousness.

“Shit,” you murmur and rub a hand over your face.

With a stretch you extend your arms, bumping Joel’s chest.

“Shit,” you say again, but louder, realizing you were nestled up against him.

He blinks at you several times then looks down at where you’re still resting along the side of him, warm and firm.

“Did I fall asleep on you?” you ask him.

He shrugs indifferently. “I guess I was asleep too.”

You continue to stare but don’t move away from him.

“Need another nap?” he asks with a smirk.

You blow a raspberry and sit up. “You wish.”

He shakes his head and opens the door, giving Tommy a “told you so” look before saying loud enough for your to hear, “I need a beer the size of my head. Now.”

After touring the first brewery and trying several different beers you’re feeling much more relaxed but hungry.

“When are we stopping to eat?” you ask.

Tommy smiles over his beer and looks at Maria.

“Well,” Maria starts. “There’s this local place just a mile or two away that the owner of the brewery said is great.”

“Perfect,” you say, “let’s go!”

Joel makes a grumbling sound from behind you, and you turn with a spin, pinning him with a look.

“Problem?” you ask.

“Maybe I’m not done tryin’ beers.”

You cross your arms over your chest and for a second you think you see his eyes drop to your cleavage but just as quickly as it happens his dark eyes are back on yours, narrowing.

“The tour is over,” you state. “I think everyone is hungry.”

“Or just you?” he asks.

“Actually, I’m starving,” Tommy says with a bright smile.

Joel just grunts out a curse in Tommy’s direction and brushes past you.

“You know,” you whisper, falling in line next to Tommy and Maria, “you’d think he’d loosen up with some drinks.”

Tommy puts a warm arm around your shoulder and just laughs.

Sitting on the crooked bar stools, you and Maria watch Tommy and Joel play darts.

“You practically have heart eyes,” you tell her. “I love it.”

She laughs and takes a sip of her drink. “He’s just…”

“I know,” you finish for her. “He’s a great guy.”

“You know Joel is too right?” she adds. “He’s just a little rougher around the edges.”

“Something like that,” you mutter. “I wish I knew why he hated me.”

“He does NOT hate you,” Maria says adamantly. “In fact, I bet it’s the exact opposite, but he has no idea how to handle it. He hasn’t dated in like forever.”

“I can’t imagine why…” you say wryly.

Maria laughs and smacks your arm. “You deserve a good guy, you know.”

“Like Tommy,” you smile.

“Like Joel.”

As if sensing the weight of your attention, both Joel and Tommy turn toward you and catch you smiling. Tommy saunters over and takes Maria in his arms. Joel follows, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Darts?” he asks when Maria and Tommy start whispering.

“Ok,” you say and slide off the stool.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doin’ sweetheart?” Joel asks as he watches you line up a shot.

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you grit out. “And second of all, yes…maybe.”

Joel laughs and steps closer, gently taking your wrist and giving you a second to pull away. When you don’t he repositions your arm and fixes your fingers.

“There, try that,” he says, his breath warm against your ear. “And I only call you that because you’re so sweet.”

At that, you throw your head back and laugh. “In your dreams maybe and to everyone else but you.”

“Of course,” he says with a shake of his head.

You throw your shot, hitting close to the bullseye and let out a cheer.

“You’re welcome,” he says before grabbing a dart and throwing it right in the middle of the bullseye.

“You suck,” you say.

“Obviously,” he answers with a grin.

Tommy comes over to let you know the food is ready and you go sit down to eat. The food revives everyone and when your bellies are full you sit back and enjoy the stories Tommy and Joel share of their childhood and teenage shenanigans.

Joel’s eyes are warm, and his smile is bright and every so often you catch him staring.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you blurt out.

“So do I,” Maria says, following you out of the booth.

Once you’re in the safety of the bathroom, she corners you and asks, “so?”

“So…what?” you shoot back.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you say. “The beer is great and I’m happy I get to hang with you guys.”

“Even Joel?”

You pause.

“He’s not sooo bad I guess.”

“Try to let go of those past experiences, he’s not always so grumpy and…” Maria trails off pointedly.

“Unapproachable?” you finish for her. “He barely said hello to me,” you continue, practically shouting. “And every time I tried to talk to him he looked like he wanted to puke!”

“Maybe he was nervous?” Maria muses.

“Why the hell would he be?” you say with a face. “Then I call him out on being a grumpy ass and he get’s all mad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him another shot,” she says with a laugh. “A new start.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you reply.

“Hey, at least enjoy his fine ass for the weekend.”

You let out a giggle and practically push her out the door of the bathroom. As you approach your table you realize that Tommy has moved his seat and now you either have to sit next to him, which you can’t because Maria quickly slips into the spot, or next to Joel.

Joel looks at you then down at his beer, twirling the glass mindlessly between his fingers. He then grabs the pitcher and pours you a glass, sliding it down next to his.

You sit and grab it, taking a long sip.

“Are you just trying to get me drunk, hoping I’ll be sweeter?”

“Will it work?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.

“Guess we’ll find out,” you laugh.

He lifts his glass to yours with a clink.

You glance over at Tommy and Maria, cuddled close and whispering. When your eyes swing back to Joel his gaze drops to your mouth, but he seems to remember himself and sits up straighter.

“Talk to me,” you say and try to keep your tone light. “I’ve been trying to get you to talk for months.”

He gives you a sheepish look.

“Give me a topic,” he counters.

You lean back against the booth and think.

“Not work,” you say, “I hear enough about that from Tommy.”

“Yeah no work talk,” he agrees.

“Making fun of Tommy won’t get us far into getting to now each other.”

Joel laughs, the action making his eyes crinkle attractively at the corners.

“As much as I love doing that you’re right.”

“Ok,” you say, turning toward him and leaning a little closer. “Girlfriend?”

He startles and his eyes go wide.

“Are you asking if I have one?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say.

His smile is a tiny tilt of his mouth.

“No,” he says quietly and looks down, picking at something on his jeans. “No girlfriend.”

“And why not?” you ask, taking a sip of your beer and watching him over the rim.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your features, then shrugs.

“I guess I’m just picky…”

“And grumpy?” you add but not without a smile and playful tone.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Sometimes I can be I guess and…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and instead finishes off his beer.

“And?” you say, waiting patiently.

“And. Well, it’s been a while since I’d had a beautiful woman pay any attention to me. I’m out of practice.”

His admission is endearing, and you warm at his compliment.

“I’m sure there are plenty of beautiful women who want to talk to you. You just don’t give off the ‘come talk to me’ vibes.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says with a dry laugh.

“You’re doing just fine now though,” you add.

He smiles gratefully and you continue talking about everything and nothing for the next hour. The conversation flows easily and you’re not sure if it’s the beer or just the fact that you’ve both let down your defenses but you’re enjoying his company.

You’re focused on his lips as he parts them to answer your ‘what’s your favorite book’ question but suddenly a shrill sound goes off, echoing through the restaurant and making you cover your ears.

Joel immediately takes your hand and nudges you out of the booth, calmly exiting the restaurant via the indicated fire escape route.

Once you’re outside his hand stays firm around yours as he leads you away from the building and the blaring noise. The waiters came out to assure everyone that it’s only a small kitchen fire, and everything is fine.

You finally find Tommy and Maria, their eyes immediately landing on your hand in Joel’s. The two of you separate like children caught doing something naughty and put some space between your bodies.

“It’s a good thing I was done eatin’,” Tommy jokes.

Turns out, the escape route took you to the back of the restaurant, at the top of a hill overlooking the mountains. The sun has already set but the lights from the restaurant illuminate enough of the grounds for you to see it’s beautiful and lush.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to a structure at the far edge of the fences.

“Maybe outdoor seating?” Joel says. “Would be a nice view.”

“I bet it’s just storage,” Maria says.

“Boring!” you huff. “I want to go see.”

“I don’t know if…” Joel starts, but you sprint off before he can finish the thought.

Before you get to the structure you hear steady footfalls behind you and then Joel is there, slowing to a walk next to you and giving you a bewildered look.

You smile and step closer, realizing that Maria was in fact right, it’s just a building used for storage or something like that.

“Totally boring,” you say. “I knew it.”

Joel stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you ask.

“Darlin’,” he tsks. “You can’t just…”

He stops and runs a hand through his hair. “You can’t just run off into the dark.”

“Did you just call…,” you trail off, deciding not to finish the thought, and start over with, “then why did you follow me.”

He looks at you like you just asked him the dumbest question. “I couldn’t just let you run off alone.”

“How chivalrous of you Joel.”

With a lopsided smile he reaches out his hand, entwining his warm fingers with yours to lead you back toward the group.

“Well?” Tommy asks with a knowing smirk.

“Just storage,” you answer, “Maria wins.”

Maria lets out a small victory cheer before snuggling against Tommy with sleep eyes.

“Everyone ready to head to the inn?” Tommy asks, stifling a yawn.

With nods of agreement, you start to head back to the restaurant to pay your bill, your hand still tucked warmly in Joel’s.

“It looks like you and Joel are actually getting along?” Tommy says, or rather, asks with raised brows.

Your eyes shift to Joel who’s standing outside the car pumping gas, a pit stop you had to make before getting to the inn. He’s staring up at the sky as you study his profile, and you keep your eyes on him even as you answer Tommy.

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah? Or yeah,” Tommy says.

“Well, we’re definitely doing better than the last few times,” you say with a laugh. “At least now he talks more and smiles.”

Tommy sighs and looks at his brother through the window.

“He hasn’t done this in…well it seems like forever, so…”

“He mentioned that” you say quietly. “I get it. It’s not like my last relationship was any good.”

Tommy’s eyes turn to you. “I hated that guy. I still wanna punch him in his stupid face.”

“Me too,” you agree with huff.

Joel secures the nozzle back onto the latch and opens the door, looking between both you and Tommy as you stare at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Did you get any snacks from the store?” you shoot back quickly.

“Did you want something?” Joel asks.

“Yeah actually. I think I do. I’m gonna go in to get something and find Maria.”

Joel holds the door open for you and watches until you get inside the store before sliding into the front seat next to Tommy.

“So,” Tommy says, and Joel pins him with an unamused stare.

“Am I about to hear the same thing she did?” Joel ask as he points his finger toward the store, gesturing to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tommy says with a smile. “But if you want to talk I’m all ears.”

Joel purses his lips and looks forward out the front windshield. After a few moments of silence he says, “I like her. I have since the first time we met.”  

“I know,” Tommy answers.

Joel’s head whips around.

“You know?”

“Yeah, of course big brother. I knew why you could never get your shit together in front of her. It was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Joel repeats, his jaw tight.

“Look…she’s a beautiful woman and she showed interested in you. You couldn’t handle it.”

Joel remains silent, his breathing even until he sighs heavily and mutters, “yeah.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s still interested now that she sees you’re not a total ass,” Tommy adds with a lopsided smirk.

Joel lets out a puff of air and shakes his head. “Thanks for the boost of confidence.”  

You’re standing behind Maria and Tommy as they check into the Bed and Breakfast, every so often stealing glances at Joel and catching him doing the same.

“So, you only have two rooms available now?” you hear Maria ask.

You perk up at that and start to move closer to the desk. Maria turns to you and Joel to explain.

“There was a leak in one of the rooms we had on hold, and it won’t be fixed until Monday so now they only have two available…but I’ll just stay with you and Tommy and Joel can share the other room,” she says.

It takes you a minute to fully process the situation but when the realization hits that Tommy and Maria won’t have their own room and won’t get to enjoy their getaway to the full extent you offer up a different plan.

“Listen, I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this little vacation and I don’t want any of it to get spoiled so Joel and I can share a room, if that’s ok with him, and I’ll just sleep on a cot or pull out.”

“You mean I will darlin.’ You take the bed.”

Tommy and Maria stare at the two of you with matching shocked expressions.

“Are you sure?” Maria asks, pulling you aside. “I mean when I told you Joel was coming you almost cancelled on me.”

“That was before. He’s been a lot nicer and more talkative now and I think we understand each other better. Besides…I don’t want you to miss out on your time with Tommy.”

You waggle your eyebrows suggestively and she giggles. “But are you sure you’re comfortable.”

You peek over at Joel, who’s talking to Tommy in the same hushed voice you’re speaking to Maria. “Yeah. I’m sure. I feel completely safe with him. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get grumpy.”

Once the rooms are settled you split up and head to your respective spaces. Joel opens the door to the spacious but quaint room, and you instantly notice the one bed in the center.

You plop down your bag and start to search for your toiletries. With necessities in hand, you walk into the bathroom and let out a squeal of excitement. Joel rushes in, practically bumping into you.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Look at the tub!” you say, doing a little happy dance. “It has feet!”

“Feet?” he responds, his voice trailing off.

“I can’t wait to use it!”

When he doesn’t respond you turn to face him and find him with his hand halfway through his mussed hair and his cheeks pink.

“You ok?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “Is it too warm in here?”

“Huh? Uh no, no. I’m fine. Are you um…are you going to use the tub now?”

“I think I’m too tired tonight, but definitely tomorrow!”

He just nods and excuses himself from the bathroom while you finish washing up. When you come out you see Joel by the door, checking the lock before he shuts it with a heavy click.

The moment feels loaded and when he turns and looks at you then the bed, you blurt out, “I really don’t mind sleeping on the pull out or the love seat. I’ve slept on worse.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Nah darlin.’ I don’t want you to do that, I can manage just fine, even on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly,” you answer, grabbing your bag and pulling out your pajamas. “It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine.”

You smile at him, hoping it looks reassuring and then say, “I’m just going to change.”

“Bathroom’s all yours,” you tell him when you come out.

He stares at you, letting his eyes run slowly down your body before they stop back at your face.

“Yeah. Thanks…”

He walks in with a clean shirt and nothing else and you wonder what the hell he usually sleeps in. He finally emerges from the bathroom, wearing the new tee shirt and his jeans.

“You’re going to sleep in your jeans?” you ask.

He looks up at you in surprise. “I mean, I usually don’t, but…”

“Just be comfortable ok?” you tell him.

“You look comfortable,” he murmurs, almost breathlessly. “Actually, what I mean is…you look, beautiful.”

“In my pajamas?” you giggle.

“Yeah and all the time.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly. “And I’m sure you look beautiful in whatever you wear to bed, so you know…just go for it.”

Hoping to go for nonchalance you smile warmly and then hop on the bed, grabbing your book and trying to give him some space to think.

After what feels like forever you notice movement out of the corner of your eye and realize he’s pulling off his jeans. Your skin heats and you try to keep your eyes on the page, but you can’t stop yourself from sliding a glance sideways to check out his ass in his boxer briefs.

He sits on the bed, and you quickly avert your eyes.

“Hope this is ok?” he says, with more of a questioning tone.

“Totally fine,” you answer, pretending to focus on the book.

As he shifts on the bed it bounces and squeaks and you try and hold in your laughter, but he hears you and starts to make his movements wilder. You fall over and into him, swatting at him with your hand.

He catches your wrist and runs his thumb across your hammering pulse, then presses it just over where his heart beats rapidly beneath his chest.

His expression shifts away from the playful smile, and he suddenly seems so unguarded. He continues to stare, the meaning in his eyes growing clearer the more your eyes hold.

“You ok?” he asks.

“More than ok,” you answer.

He pulls back the covers and grabs the remote to the TV. You both scoot under, arranging yourselves comfortably but without touching. But then, slowly, your bodies shift closer and his leg presses to yours, the soft slide of his leg hair against your thigh.

With a smile he reaches around you and pulls you to his side until your head rests on his shoulder.

“I must be comfortable with the way you fell asleep on me in the truck,” he teases.

“You are. I just didn’t want to admit it then.”

You feel his laughter and snuggle closer, resting a soft hand on his chest. At first, his fingers rest lightly on your bare shoulder but slowly they start to move, drawing small circles over your skin.

The feel of his calloused fingertips draws all your attention away from everything else and all you can think about his touch, his warmth, and the smell of him, clean but with the faint scent of his skin beneath.

Carefully, you slide one leg over his and press your face into his neck. You sense his breath hitch, but his fingers never stop exploring your skin, and finally he lets out a long and controlled exhale.

Your body is thrumming with tension and anticipation, so you focus on your breathing. In. Out. Slow and steady. Your eyes drift closed, and you give in to the drowsy relief.

When you wake, you’re flushed with the memory of his fingers on your skin and his warm mouth working it’s way down your neck.

But it’s not a memory.

Joel’s there, curled on his side and pressed against you from behind, his mouth moving from your ear and down your neck.

You make a quiet noise of surprise, pressing back into him and feeling him hard and ready against your ass. At the contact he groans and grinds his hips in a slow, pressing rhythm.

“Hey,” you whisper.

His teeth nip at your pulse point, and you whimper.

“Hey,” he answers.

You reach your hand back and slide your fingers through his hair to hold his face at your neck. He tugs the strap of your tank top down and follows the soft curve of your shoulder with his lips.

“I woke you,” he says, brushing his lips over your skin. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses, lips still hovering at your neck. “No. I’m not sorry.”

Turning in his arms, you lean in and let your nose brush his, lightly, until you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

His kiss is hungry, his mouth demanding as he slides his hands up your top and rolls over onto you. His moans vibrate against your kiss and your arms circle his shoulders, fingers delving back into his hair, and he rocks between your spread legs.

His sharp inhales and exhales fill the tiny space between you and every time he touches another inch of your skin he lets out a sharp grunt or moan, sending you reeling.

Bending, he slides your tank up over your breasts and dips his head to lick them, fill his hands with them, before returning his lips to your mouth with renewed need. Your body responds to the rhythm he sets, the hard press of him just where you want it, and when you arch into him, rocking your hips and working your body in tandem with his, he hisses out, “fuck darlin.’ Please.”

Each point of contact between you carries an electric current and he speeds up, breathlessly close and whispering your name with parted lips.

Your movements become erratic, gripping his ass, pulling him harder against you, the thin, silky material of your panties wet and slippery.

“Joel,” you whine and bring his lips to yours again.

He swallows your moans and grinds into you, the heat of his body scorching every inch of your skin until you come with a cry of his name, his own relieved sounds following just after and his release spilling onto your stomach.

His mouth presses to your neck, soft and slow, until he sits up on his elbows.

The darkness subsides as your eyes adjust, and with the slight bleed of light from under the doorway and through the curtains of the window, you can tell he’s staring down at you, gauging.

His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb sweeping just under your eye before he leans in for a tender kiss.

“I meant to take this slower sweetheart but…”

The sweetness in his voice laces around your heart and you kiss him to stop his words and show him it’s more than ok. That you’ll take whatever he’s willing to give.

“You’re covered in me,” he whispers.

“I don’t mind,” you say as you curl a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“We could take that bath now…if you want.”

“We?” you ask, smiling against his lips. “You’re dangerous Joel Miller.”

“Me?” he asks innocently. “You’re the one who had me thinking of you naked in that tub all night.”

“And I can’t wait to try it out…”

You shove on his chest until he rolls off you and discard your clothing as you walk into the bathroom.

“Fuck me,” you hear him murmur from behind you.

“That’s the plan,” you say over your shoulder before you turn on the faucet.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @tripletstephaniescp

[nsfwruru]

top payer!huh yunjin(g!p) x OF!reader

hear me out… yunjin as your biggest supporter on OF, and that she’s your top payer to the point you want to get to know her. only for her to beg you to do a video collab so she can fuck your cute little face. she’s just a fein for head!!!!!😣

cw: filthy smut(masturbation, cum eating, use of videotaping, Yunjin receiving), porn with some plot, not proofread,, use of ‘S/N’ for “screen/name”

You didn’t know anyone in the industry, maybe a few faces here and there, but no one quite noticeable, well maybe due in part that you where a faceless content creator. Not much was known about you, other than the occasional kinks and preferences you’d naturally post under your frequent photoshoots. Having “fans” didn’t help much either, they all just so happened to have tacky screen names that hid their true identity— Well, that was the case until you came across an account that would frequently pay for extra access to your photos, with her name and face plastered onto her casual viewing account.

“huh yunjin” it displayed, the username just being ‘yunnnnjin” something that’s just so intriguing, since you never really saw anyone so proud to display that they looked around the website. Honestly it was really just a pleasant surprise knowing someone was actually human looking through your photos, and occasional videos. Also the fact that she was absolutely stunning in her profile picture kinda made you suspicious, wondering if this could be a bot. I mean, her dark red hair, which complimented her big brown eyes and plump lips, it was all too good to be true!

The only reason you ever believed that this was a real person running this account was the amount of payments she made. It was absolutely absurd! Not only was she paying for literally all the extra spicy photos you posted— but it came to the point she went out of her way to make excess payments just for the hell of it! Your debit card was absolutely popping every single business day with more and more installments that this Yunjin girl sent you. Of course, you were a high paid model, who wracked up 40-50k a month, but honestly even how much she was paying you was too much.

And the weirdest part of it was she was paying thousands to ten thousand every week, without even a single comment or peep from her. Someone with that kind of spending habits must be someone who has some weird parasocial relationship… right?

Wrong!

It was always apparent that she kept a safe distance, never reaching out or demanding more raunchy photos from you, it just seemed like she was a viewer enjoying the content from afar. The idea of her doing this was perplexing, when people who sent far less on your photos where demanding far more than her. It was in some odd way, endearing to you. Coming to the point where you wanted to reach out to her and just get to know the woman who was practically paying your bills at this point. Not wanting to sound like a creep, you silently slid into her chat box with her, and sent a message. (Only for her to reply in a heartbeat.)

you: “Hey I saw you paying so much on my content thank you so much!”

yunnnnjin: “hi”

yunnnnjin: “yeah np, ur very beautiful”

you: “thank u sm!”

you: “I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why do you always pay extra? you don’t have to >_>”

yunnnnjin: “ah.. i just find you stunning”

you: “your my biggest supporter thank you!”

yunnnnjin: “this might be a weird question to ask, and I’m not demanding anything from you.”

you: “hm??”

yunnnnjin: “but can we film a collab”

staring right at your computer, your reading glasses was slowly falling down your face as you opened your jaw in disbelief. Did she seriously just say that? After mere minutes of meeting? What the fuck? So maybe she wasn’t any better than a man because what the hell just happened. You thought maybe you could trust her, believe that she wasn’t one of those entitled fans who felt the need to claim every inch of you, but I guess not. Honestly you felt disgusted she could ask this so quickly, but a morbid curiosity filled your mind, this could be a perfect way to make a little more money.

yunnnnjin: “sorry that was weird”

yunnnnjin: “i shouldn’t have said anything im sorry”

you: “… do u have a photo of ur face, like a video or something you can record right now so I know what I’m working with.”

*Yunjin sent 5 video attachments*

Admittedly you were scared to open the files she sent you, maybe this was all a prank and some sick friend was pulling this on you. But something just drew you in as you hovered your mouse on the reveal bar, clicking the photos, the blur was lifted and you were greeted with plethora of videos to look at. From first glance everything seemed to check out, but you wanted to make sure she didn’t just snag these from the internet.

The first video included her in a soft white robe, someone clearly putting makeup on her plush skin as she sat down. Humming a tune in the background that was oddly familiar to you, maybe a little too familiar.

The other 3 videos included her doing such mindless task like doing her make up, drinking coffee, even dancing to the beat of the music. But that’s not what interested you the most, what you gravitated toward was the video, with the first few frames being her face scrunched up, closing her eyes at her screen.

Playing the video, you were greeted by muffled groans, and the sound of skin rubbing against one another, almost in a rhythmic motion. As each time the skin glided across the other, she would let out the most intense moan, pleading with someone in front of the camera. Her eyes darting towards the scream as her mouth opened slightly, not clocking what she was doing until her moans became so loud, that the speakers on your computer started vibrating. Oh! She’s jacking off! While recording herself! How interesting!

That’s not what caught your eye though, it’s when she brung the camera down to the base of her thighs, propping the camera behind her thick perched up cock as she started rubbing it up and down. Her moans turning into pleading as she called out your screen name repeatedly, begging for her release like she was imagining it was your hands around her girth. She was far too much for you— to the point watching the precum dribble from the slit of her member made your skin crawl. You wished it was you making her feel that way, so you decided to continue watching until she reached her climax. Watching her hands slide up and down, quickening the pace and using her cum as leverage to fuck herself using her palm, made you go crazy. It wasn’t until she reached her maximum, as her legs buckled up slightly with her back arched cumming all over the screen. The bed squeaking as she fucked her hands aggressively to reach that climax she-oh-so desired. Your name rolling of her tounge so naturally as “fuckin’ so good” and “shit”, was mixed into it.

you: “wow”

you: “so you are real.”

yunnnnjin: “haha sorry if that last video is weird jst wanted u to know how much i want to collab”

you: “make sense, uhhhhhh i think we can, do u have an address?”

yunnnnjin: “perfect, and here’s my address, but tell me if you ever come over I’ll plan everything ahead”

You might’ve been sick in the head, because now you stood rooted in place standing in front of the door of her apartment. For all you knew she could’ve been a perverted killer on the loose, but seeing that video of her changed the trajectory of your life.

Knocking on the door, you heard someone stumble over themselves as the reached the door with a thud. A small groan escaping from a woman’s lips as she hurriedly pried the door open, your heartbeat racing. Finally as she opened the door, you met her brown gaze as her red hair fell gently over her face and covered a lot of her defining features. “You actually came.” Yunjin taking all of you in, being surprised that it was actually you as you covered your face with a black mask. Without warning she dragged your wrist and lead you into her nicely decorated apartment. All of her decor being of welloff brands and photos of her with 4 or sometimes 5 other girls.

She dragged you over to her bedroom, only to be met with professional lighting setups, cameras and other video recording tools set all around. She was clearly a little too prepared for her own good, down to the box of condoms that sat nicely on-top of the black bedsheets. “I got this all for you— I’m sorry if this is too much, but I didn’t know what else to do when you gave me this opportunity.” Tilting your head in confusion as from your knowledge she must’ve gotten all this equipment recently, since nothing about her profile said “model” or “photographer.”

“Ah thank you but you didn’t need to do all of that, besides I brought my video camera with me for a reason.” You insisted pulling out the black bag inside your even bigger gym back, showing her the camera as you slid it out. She stared back at you, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked back at everything she had prepared, mentally cursing herself when she should’ve know that you’d bring something fancy. “Oh this is a shame—“

“It’s fine, if you have everything set up, we can use this instead of what I’m using now, it’s probably better quality anyways.” And so you did, you began recording the first few clips, just some lingerie shots with Yunjin, or photographs with her tongue pressed agonist parts of your body. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but watching her boxers press up against your stomach, feeling her stiffened cock onto your tummy, made you feral. Greatful that you wore a face mask to cover your true identity, because with out it you’d be drooling by the contact of her boxers.

Thankfully, after snapping some promiscuous photos of the both of you, Yunjin offered to take some solo shots of you. This type without your top out, something that was so natural for you to do, made Yunjin’s breath hitch as your breast pooled into the free air. Fuck, you didn’t know how much she wanted to touch you right now, to have your nipple in her mourn while she played with your other breast. Or fucking your face and letting her precious cum fall down your chin and down to your chest. As the camera clicked on and on, her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking you mindlessly. Having her cum all over the nastiest parts of your body, while you scream her name all day long. And finally ripping off that black mask you used to cover your adorable face with so she could spurt all over you.

It took you a few minutes— actually almost half an hour to tell that her hardened cock was pressing even harder against her fabric, begging to be let out. As her mind drifted in and out of reality, you tried your best to snap her out of trance with no avail. “Yunjin—“ You called out her name once, “Yunjin?” A second time as you inched closer to her in your kneeling position, looking up at her soft gaze as she stared down at you. Before you could say her name one last time you where faced up, inches apart her hard member, looking up at her with, those, eyes.

Yunjin didn’t respond, not for a long time, her hands reaching out to your hair as she continued to click some more photos. Tangling her delicate slim fingers into your hair, taking more and more photos as you called out to her. “Fuck, S/N, you look so good” She mumbled, taking her hands out of your hair to pinch your cheeks up to give her your whole attention. Her breathing heavy as she watched your even movement, and how your face masked heaved up and down as she did so. “Can I fuck you princess, please— please let me use your pretty mouth baby.” Yunjin murmured, pulling her hands away from you as she held the waistband of her boxers.

Without any second thought, you brung your hands up and yanking it off of her, not wanting to admit that you wanted this more than her. As her boxers slid off so easily, you could see her cock take its place as it sprung up, the sheer size of it hitting her stomach as she had a painful erection.

It took you in awe for a few moments, the both of you not doing anything as you stared at her member, while she looked down at you in anticipation. “Holy shit— uh, can you get the video camera then?” You asked while Yunjin shook her head vigorously, tripping over herself to fully take off everything and grab the video taping camera on the side table. Running back, she began recording and pointing the camera down at you, indicating that the shot was already rolling.

You lifted your mask a little bit to place the head of her pink cock to the edge of your lips, placing the mask over, giving her little kitten licks as you do so. The sudden contact of your mouth on her most sensitive part made her let out the dirtiest moan, and bring her free hand to tangle it in your hair. “Fuck, that felt so nice baby.” She groaned out, petting your hair as you continued to bring your mouth to the base. The sheer size of it making you tear up, unable to handle how much you had to put in.

Yunjin was getting off to this, getting off to your gagging, getting off to the feeling of your small mouth around her dick, just getting off to the idea of you. “Is it— hah, too big princess?” She breathed out as she buckled her waist, pushing you to deep throat her thick cock. Leaving you to gag even more as she was pressing up against you, the tip off your nose touching her pelvis as she brung you deeper down. The sounds of your muffled gagging gave her more leverage to fist your hair and fuck into you. Letting dribbles of cum and salvia accumulate as drizzle down your chin. Luckily the mask you wore was able the cover the lewd juices leaking out from you mouth as you took her all.

Bobbing your head back and fourth, her fist was still clawing at your hair as she fucked your most so nicely. “Fuck— fuck…” She groaned, her dick writing in your mouth as you hummed, “mpfh” letting the vibrations of your voice to leave a nice sensation around her. Your tongue swirling around in circles, nose touching her pelvis as hot air coming from your nose sent shivers down her spine. From the way her hips where proceeding to buckle clearly indicated that she was close to climaxing.

With a few more thrusts into your mouth in an almost apathetic way, without any hesitation— she released all of her salty seed into your mouth. Slowing pulling away as she swayed the rest of her cum inside, the lose of contact made a popping noise. “Shit.” Yunjin examined how good you looked as she slowly pulled off your mask, to admire the cum and saliva dribbling down your mouth. Ripping her hands away from your hair, she placed her thumb on where the main stream of liquid resided, and pushed everything back into your mouth. “Swallow it up.” Yunjin demanded, watching you make a show out of it, going as far as to open your mouth after you finished. “Mm, good girl.”

urgahfhhhh I was gonna add so much more but after this I got drained smh. full on smut sex scene cummin’ up when I feel like it LOL!!!!

[wwooyology]

Six Feet Under | P.SH

「paring」 : ceo!sunghoon x stripper!fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.5k

「synopsis」 : even a busy ceo needs a well-deserved break to release some pent-up frustration and you just so happen to be that escape he finds himself returning to. he was married and you swore you'd never fall in love again, however, what happens when you find yourself wanting more?

「genre」 : smut, angst, forbidden romance

「warning」 : cheating (I do NOT condone cheating irl, this is for the sake of the story!), making out, pet names (baby, princess, kitten, good girl, also slut is used), unprotected sex (big no-no, wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral (m. receiving), cursing, mirror sex, teasing, mentions of breeding, creampie, choking, hair pulling, begging, hoon spanks the reader like once, public sex(?), lmk if I missed anything!

All you wanted in your life was to live a life of luxury, surrounded by pretty things. So much money that you live the rest of your life in peace with a fancy glass of champagne. A little life without having to deal with someone else, without commitment, without love. 

However, nothing in life came for free and you of course had to work for it. Just like any other normal Friday night here you were in a tiny two-piece that left very little to the imagination and heels that were ungodly tall. Twirling around the pole effortlessly, money pooling on the ground underneath you. The catcalls and provocative remarks weren’t anything new to you if anything they spurred you on more.

Just then you caught sight of a familiar face, sitting at the bar that trailed the length of the stage. His eyes watching you from over the rim of his glass, studying your every move. Sunghoon wasn’t a stranger to you, far from it actually.

Sunghoon was always here Friday nights, maybe Saturday if he could sneak out without raising too many questions. He was a busy man, running a well-known company wasn’t for the weak. This also meant that he pent up frustration from the earlier days of the week he needed to get out so where did he find himself? At the most popular strip club in all of Korea, watching the very dancer that has held him captive since the beginning.

Landing on your feet with a satisfying click of your heels you walked around the pole, your hand still tightly wrapped around the metal. Stopping in front of the black-haired male with a smirk, dropping to your knees you rolled hips forward, your hand in your hair gaining some hollars from the other drunk men around you. 

While many others had their gaze set on you, your gaze was solely on the man in front of you. Sunghoon’s eyes never left your figure as you crawled in his direction, giving him a better view down the skimpy top that hung loosely on your body.

“Hey, kitten give us another show, yeah?” A man that was standing next to Sunghoon reached forward tucking a wad of cash in the band of your bottoms before giving your thigh a small tap.

You leaned down on your forearms, giving him a wide smile and a wink before turning your gaze back to Sunghoon. Watching his chocolate brown eyes darken, his knuckles white as he gripped his glass a little too tight.

The look he was giving you was already enough to have heat pooling in your gut. 

Crawling forward, you reach forward tracing your manicured fingers along his jaw feeling the muscles tense under your touch. This wasn’t completely out of the norm for you so it didn’t raise any suspicion from those around you. However, you got a few jealous remarks as you leaned closer to Sunghoon, your fingers trailing down his neck right over his pulse point. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingertips as your lips brushed his ear. Saying a simple ‘you know where to find me.’ before moving away just as the music faded, ending your performance.

--

Finding you was exactly what Sunghoon did, finding you sitting in front of your vanity in your dressing room. Your eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones through the mirror as the door clicked shut.

“Took you long enough.” Your words were more teasing than annoyed, however, the taller male didn’t say a word. Looking at you through the mirror with a hard-to-read expression.

Seeing as you weren’t going to get a response you let out a huff before grabbing your hair brush to untangle your silky strands. Your eyes trained on your reflection as you repeated the same cycle of pulling your hair through the thin bristles.

Until movement caught your eye, Sunghoon moved to stand behind you as you sat the hairbrush down. His slim fingers then traced along your jaw much like you had done to him just an hour ago. They were cold against your burning skin, leaving a chill to go down your spine.

Light gleaming off of the metal band that hugged his ring finger reminded you that the man behind you, the man who has fucked you senseless multiple times in this very room wasn’t a single man.

“What about your wife? Won’t she be wondering where her husband is so late?” You smirked at Sunghoon through the mirror.

His hand was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks tightly and you let out a surprised yelp.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep her out of your mouth?” Sunghoon’s breath fanned over your ear, “or do I have to remind you what happened last time?”

Your throat went dry as the memories of him denying you release so many times flashed through your mind. Looking over you met his dark eyes, but no words left your tongue.

“Cat got your tongue princess?” The deep tone of his voice had you squeezing your thighs together, which of course didn’t go unnoticed by the dark-haired male.

His grip on your face loosened as he softly caressed your jaw, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. As if instinct took over you let your mouth fall open allowing him to insert the digit into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 

You closed your lips, encasing his finger in your warm heat while he watched you with an intense gaze. Sucking softly, tongue swirling, drenching his digit in your saliva, eyes never leaving his.

“On your knees,” Sunghoon demanded, pulling his hand away from your face, and motioning to the ground. You obey, sitting on your knees on the cool faux wood ground, an ache already starting to form in your joints. But that would be a problem for future you to deal with.

Looking up you were met with Sunghoon’s blown-out pupils, the same cold expression on his face. However, there was a tinge of annoyance because of how slow you were going.

Reaching down he ran his fingers through your hair and you relished in the feeling of his nails softly scraping your scalp. Until he grabbed a fist full of your hair, tugging harshly causing a whine to leave your lips. He leaned down, his breath fanning your face, a dark look in his eyes that was enough to tell you that you were in for a long night.

“You know what to do, so-” He tugged on your hair again eliciting a whimper from your lips, “Do. It.”

Letting go of your hair he stood straight on his feet once more, watching as you hastily reached for his belt. Pulling it loose you let his slacks fall, pooling at his ankles and leaving him in his boxers. You ghosted your fingers over his bulge that was pressing against the fabric, “aw how long have you been like this?” You teased, but the dark spot was evidence enough that he had been like this for some time.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as you continued to tease him through his underwear. Opening his mouth to tell you to get on with it but he was cut off as a choked groan tore through his throat, your fingers squeezing him through the fabric. The sound alone was enough to have your core throbbing, and your underwear becoming uncomfortably sticky.

Looking up only added to the burning in your stomach, his bottom lip was trapped in his teeth, his eyes hooded watching your every move. You didn’t want to wait any longer to have a taste of him again, it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t addicted to him. Something about fucking around in secret excited you even more, though you did feel kinda bad for his wife.

The sound of your name falling from his lip in such a surly tone was enough to snap you out of your daze. Raising higher on your knees you grabbed the hem of his button-up shirt, pushing it up revealing his toned abdomen. Pressing feather-like kisses over the skin, trailing along the waistband of his underwear. Listening to the hushed curses that would fall from his lips gives you the confidence to press a firm kiss right on his v-line. 

Feeling his muscles contract under your skin spurred you on, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses along his abdomen. Stopping right under his belly button, nipping at the skin softly, his hand falling softly on your head.

“No marks.” He groaned as you nipped a bit harder at the skin. Oh how badly you wanted to mark his perfect porcelain skin, but you knew better than to disobey. Pulling away you let his shirt fall back down, hooking your fingers in the band of his underwear. Tugging them down, you let the fabric join his pants on the ground.

You take him in one hand, pressing a thumb against his leaking tip resulting in a low groan to tear through his lips. Spitting in your palm you replace your other hand, rubbing up and down his shaft. Your saliva and his precum allow your movements to become fluid. His hand gripped the back of your vanity chair, knuckles turning white. You bring your head closer and lick a stripe up his cock, eyes flickering up watching as his head falls back soft moan-like sighs leaving his lips. Swirling your tongue around his tip, the taste of precum tingled in your mouth causing you to hum softly, making the volume of his moans increase. “Fuck princess, stop- fuck, stop teasing.”

Releasing his vice-like grip on the chair, Sunghoon gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail. Looking down he’s met with your lust-filled gaze, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Your face was painted a beautiful shade of red and your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper, his hold on your hair tightening as his hips buck forward into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

“Hmm fuck baby,” He hums as he thrusts his hips forward once again shivering at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. You focus your breathing through your nose, allowing him to take charge. His head falls back again, his pace picking up causing tears to prick in the corner of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

“Why talk about my wife, when- fuck, when you can just suck my cock like the little slut you are.” He growls, picking up his pace once more taking the air right out of your lungs as you hum around him. Your thighs and knees burning in protest from sitting in the same position for so long, but the sight of him getting lost in the feeling of your throat was enough for you to want to endure it.

“Shit…” Sunghoon suddenly pulled out of your mouth, afraid that he’d cum then and there. Tugging on your hair, enough for a whine to fall from your swollen lips. “Get up.” his raspy tone instantly had you swooning as you scrambled back to your feet. He kicked his pants and underwear off his ankles. Latching his lips to yours, he groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. He pushes you back until your lower back hits the vanity behind you, lips trailing down your neck as he picks you up, setting you on the surface.

Your fingers comb through his hair as he sucks on the hot skin of your neck, his canines scraping across your pulse point have a shiver going down your spine. He could feel your heart rate accelerate under his lips as he colored your skin in shades of reds and purples.

“Hoon, wait- fuck!” You exclaim as he bites down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, the stinging makes your head spin. 

“You’re mine.” He growled against your skin, fingers undoing your robe. You both know that wasn’t true, you would never truly be his, he was married and you’d rather be buried six feet under before committing to a serious relationship. But just for the night, you’d pretend. 

“My little slut to ruin.” His lips latched back on yours in a fervent kiss, teeth clashing, drool seeping from the corner of your lips. Your finger worked in a rush to undo his white button-up, desperate to feel his skin on you. Once the shirt was undone you ran your fingers down his torso, nails scraping his skin softly.

His lips never left your skin as he pushed the robe off of your shoulders, letting it lay on the table behind you, fingers tracing the lace fabric of the underwear set you had changed into. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned down by your ear, “You’re fucking insatiable.” 

You whine as he squeezed one of your boobs, harshly before letting his fingers trailed down, parting your thighs further. He pulled away to watch as your eyes pleaded with him to touch you. 

“Hoon, please.” You squirm under his touch as his finger brushes over your core.

“Please what princess?” He smirked, enjoying the way your eyebrows scrunched together in desperation, your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm while the other gripped the table underneath you.

“Touch me please,” A soft moan slipped past your lips as he ghosted over your clothed clit before whining when he took his hand back to your thigh.

“But I am touching you.” Frustration bubbled in your chest as you gazed up at him, the want to smack that smirk off his face was strong, but not as strong as the want of his fingers in you. “You mean like this?” He traced the area right before where you really wanted him, you whined, grip tightening on his arm.

“God dammit Sunghoon, just fuck me with your fingers please!” You exclaim and before you could even blink his other hand wrapped around your throat, limiting your oxygen supply.

“You better watch your fucking tone princess.” His lips ghost over your own as his other hand moves to cup your heat making you let out a choked moan. His fingers press against your clothed cunt feeling you soak your underwear further, “you’re so wet baby, fuck.”

The lack of proper oxygen and his teasing touch was making your head spin. Sunghoon kissed you deeply as he moved your underwear to the side, feeling your warm and slick folds. You whimper against his lips as his thumb finds your clit, circling it sharply.

“Only I can make you this wet, not those other assholes out there, me.” He growled as he inserted his finger into you and you cried out, back arching and nails digging into his skin. Your head was spinning, everything becoming overwhelming. He let go of your neck allowing you to breathe properly before finding purchase on your hip as he worked his finger in and out of you.

“Fuck… Hoon,” Moans fell from your lips as he pushed another finger into your sopping pussy, picking up his pace. Your head falls back in pure bliss allowing Sunghoon to latch his lips to your neck once more.

Sunghoon relished in your scent and the way you wrapped around his fingers so perfectly knowing that he would have to stop soon, his dick painfully hard and he wanted to be in you. Tilting your head back up you cupped his face with your free hand, bringing his attention to your already fucked out expression.

“Hoon-” You were cut off as his fingers brushed over your sweet spot causing a loud moan to tear through your lips. He smirked devilishly as he kissed the corner of your lips.

“What were you saying, baby?” He teased as he abused your sweet spot, pulling you closer and closer to your release. 

“Please, Hoon, I need you, so bad.” You were growing too impatient and quite frankly so was he.

“Need my cock princess?” He teased, watching as you nodded your head furiously, lips caught between your teeth. Pulling his drenched fingers out of your pussy making you whine softly before he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to your feet.

Your legs felt like jelly and if Sunghoon hadn’t been holding on to you, you surely would have fallen to your knees. Before you could even process it Sunghoon had you turned around and bent over the surface of the vanity.

“Now be a good girl and watch as I fuck you.” His finger trailed up the back of your thigh before grabbing a handful of your ass. You hummed loving the feeling of his warm skin on you, eyes fluttering shut.

A cry left your lips, eyes snapping open at the sudden sting on your asscheek. “What did I say, princess?” Sunghoon rubbed the red skin with his thumb, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Pushing your underwear to the side once more, lining his cock up with your entrance, eyes never leaving yours even as he slid in with a sudden thrust. A loud cry was torn from your lungs, head fell down at the sudden feeling.

Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head up and making you look in the mirror. He didn’t give you a chance to fully adjust before he started thrusting his hips at a fast pace, grip tight on both your hair and hip. The movement had your eyes rolling as broken moans fell from your lips.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like the slut you are.” Sunghoon chuckles, ramming his hips into yours, driving his cock deeper into your pussy eliciting moans from you.

“H…hoon.” You whine out, reaching behind you, nails digging into the skin of his hip. He hissed before releasing your hip, grabbing your wrist instead. Pulling until your back arched and a pornographic moan left your mouth.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried your hardest to keep looking in the mirror like he told you to, but the pleasure was just becoming too much. Letting your head hang, you whimper as Sunghoon pulls your head right back up.

“Am I fucking you that good that you can’t even listen?” He mocks with a smug smirk, hand leaving your hair to wrap around your neck, pulling your body flush against his as he keeps up with the animalistic pace. A gasp escapes your parted lips at the change, almost doubling over when the head of his cock brushes over your sweet spot.

“‘S too deep-'' Another cry cuts you off as Sunghoon’s fingers find your clit, abusing the small bundle of nerves. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, falling back on his shoulder.

“Fuck- you’re squeezing my dick so tight.” He groaned, feeling his climax creeping up, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’ll be damned if you don’t cum before him. Picking up the pace of his fingers on your clit had you crying out again.

“Hoon-””Don’t worry princess, I’ll fill your sweet pussy so good, knock you up maybe so everyone knows your mine.” His words didn’t register in your foggy mind, your ears ringing as you felt so close.

With one final thrust of his hips, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking his cock that still pounded into your abused hole. He groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, his orgasm right there.

“Too much…” You whined, grabbing his hand that had left your clit, now on your hip. 

“Just a bit more, I’m almost there.” His once deep and husky voice came out almost whiney as he continued to thrust harshly, throwing you into overstimulation. “I’mma fill you to the brim,” He bit down on your shoulder and you clamped down on him, tipping him over the edge. A loud groan leaves his lips as he pumps his hot, thick cum into you, filling you to the brim just as he promised.

His hips slowed to a stop and he released your throat, wrapping his arms around your body encasing you in his warmth. The room was filled with heavy breathing as you both came down from your highs. Sunghoon whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you held onto his forearm.

You wished you could stay like this forever, in his warmth, his scent, his touch, his taste, stuffed by him, but…

Your thoughts were cut off as a shrilling ringing filled the room, reminding you that this was the end. It was probably a good thing because again he was married and you’d rather be caught dead before falling in love again. Yet here you are hoping for just a few more minutes with him.

He really was going to have you six feet under.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[aweina]

౨ৎ. CHOCOLATE LIPSTICK ( 17﹢) ; mike schmidt

tags fem reader. enemies to ( ? ). mike is mean + angry. 2-3 year age difference. sexual tension. oral fixation. semi-brat taming + 1k words.

mike was staring at you funny, it made you feel weird — annoyed, actually.

“what?” your voice was harsh, muffled by the sweet frozen yogurt coating your mouth.

he raised a brow at your tone, a little vexed from your sudden attitude. it reminded him of the bratty kid he happened to escort out of a toy store just an hour ago. he’s in a bad mood already, but there was no reason to get mad right now.

“don’t talk with your mouth full.” mike tiredly mumbled. an honest suggestion, but half of what he really wanted to say.

you rolled your eyes at his critiquing words. he always seemed to lecture you about the littlest things. how you’re not as productive during your usual security checks or even that one time he was finding the mall keys during your shared nightly protocols — making sure to make a sly comment and sprinkle in an unneeded suggestion about how untidy your bag was. exactly how an obnoxious parent would.

it was annoying. being treated like a child and especially by someone like mike. so what if he was a few years older? slightly more mature than you, much more responsible, and definitely not hot. just a little bit tho, but you’ll never admit that.

but ninety-percent of the time he pisses you off, and this is one of those times.

you swallowed down the yogurt that melted from your seething irritation, brows furrowed at the snarky comment he had to make about your dining etiquette. it’s a fucking mall food court, not a fine dining restaurant.

“do you always have to be a dick to me?” your words were laced with venom, all the suppressed anger managed to bubble out your throat.

his calloused fingers suddenly stopped twisting on the volume of the two-way radio, usual soft hazel eyes darken to a muted brown, stubbled jaw clenched. mike swallowed back the urge to say a few fighting words at your childish retort.

your tone wasn’t a big deal. well, until now.

his day has already been ruined. parents weren’t so attentive when it came to their bratty children, that meant he had to parent them himself — awkwardly standing until their tantrums fall silent or escorting dozens of children that happen to run off for some ridiculous toy. he didn’t need anymore whining from you, especially about something he’s done without the intention of malice — you were childish, immature.

“i don’t need to hear this right now.” mike was too tired to argue. a heavy sigh escaping his lips, his rough hands brushing away the tired feeling in his eyes. “you’re acting like a kid right now, you know that?”

you swore your blood pressure just went up.

“see that’s what i’m talking about! you treat me like a kid and you have to be a total asshole about it. why?”

passing families and teens curiously looked towards your table, the sudden blast of your agitated voice drawing unneeded attention. just what mike needed.

he turns away from their prying eyes, flustered that he was a victim of your grownup tantrum. mike continues the silent treatment as he listens to your incoherent babbling, colorful words like “old man” and “asshole” passed through his eardrums like a sour tune. the grip of his arm was deadly tight. yet, your pouting made his heart skip a bit. it was adorable, it always has been. but not when it’s accommodated with your high-pitched whines, your brows knitted with all these negative emotions, cheeks redden from breathless insults. the angry look in your face looked so familiar — it was the same look everybody seemed to give him.

all this over a smudge of frozen yogurt on your mouth. he would laugh if he wasn’t at his breaking point.

“fuck, i hate yo – !“ with sudden force, mike grabs you by your chin, the pouring insults latched shut with a firm grip.

the reddish hue on your face that was once from your vexation became brighter from mike’s unusual forcefulness — he has never been this angry with you before. weirdly enough, you don’t hate it.

the chocolate remnants blotched over your cheeks, dribbling from your unwiped mouth, was he pointing this out the whole time?

“watch your mouth.” you didn’t know if he meant the mess you made or your little tantrum session that set him off.

maybe both, you can’t tell anymore.

you both stare at each other for a second, the tension so thick in the air — the invasive looks felt like a blur in the background, or rather, seemingly drawn away by this peculiar exchange. hazy eyes slowly peered down at your mouth, deliciously glazed with chocolate yogurt. it was tooth aching, he could imagine the taste on his tongue. if only he was a little closer, he never had to daydream about this ungodly sight for weeks.

his thumb slowly drags over your pinkish flesh, gathering the sweet residue that coated your quivering lips. he reached over the corners of your mouth, studying every hitch of your breath and the way you nervously fiddle with the plastic spoon. someone so loud, bratty, could be silenced with a single touch.

pushing past your pursed lips and clenched teeth with ease, his sweetened touch swirled all over your taste buds — the subtle hints of sweat somehow tasted sweeter than the chocolate goodness. mike watches you closely, his slacks suddenly feeling tight. you’re letting him do this to you, without a protest or your usual dirty look.

for another second, his fleeting touch brushed against your wet muscle, mesmerized by its softness. the darkness that loomed in his irises vaporized into a soft green, lured by the sight of an obedient mouth. he finally draws away, a string of saliva connecting his cleaned off thumb and your glossy lips. the rigid grip on your chin loosens as mike huffs in mild irritation, mostly out of astonishment from this predicament.

mike stands from his seat, hiding his hard-on with his bunched up security jacket — hand still soaked from your dribbling saliva. awkwardly, he picks up the trash splayed over the table, making sure his car keys were stuffed deep in his pocket.

“i’ll see you tomorrow.” he steadily spoke, seemingly unbothered.

you nodded, mouth still slightly agape.

mike walks off, leaving you with your own muddled thoughts.

out of complete horror, you hover your nimble fingers over your mouth — the taste of his skin still permeates on your tongue. even with how intimate that whole situation was, mike made sure to clean the remnants of frozen yogurt off your face.

the gall to leave you utterly confused, edged by this new side of your usual grumpy coworker. there was a line between guilty attraction and burning hatred towards mike, you were stuck in the middle of it. but your racing mind seemed to linger towards the shadows casting his tired eyes, the focused look on your compiling mouth, the demand in his voice animating your body like a toy. fuck, yeah okay, he was hot.

the ache between your legs seeped arousal through your pants, you thanked your employers that your uniform was black. gosh, it’s been so long since anybody has touched you like that.

you nearly break your skull when your head falls defeatedly on the table — a heavy groan vibrating in your chest.

you don’t know if you could come to work tomorrow.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[hairyjocktf]

As a small twenty year old in college, I just wish I could get the peace and quiet of the outdoors. Can you make me a big hairy lumberjack?

You woke up this morning to the blaring of your alarm. Monday always felt way too early. After grabbing your phone and silencing it you rolled out of bed with a resounding thud. You were so tired of the hustle and bustle of school and work and life in general, it was just never ending. With a huff you dragged yourself into the bathroom, passing your reflection in the mirror. You stopped for a second, gazing over your thin body, wishing it could be something more. There was no time to dwell on those thoughts though, and you turned on the water and hopped into the shower. Hot water cascading over you, you reached for the new body wash you’d just bought. ‘Man Wash: Cedar & Pine Scent’ it said, something the other day had compelled you to try that over the normal wash you usually got. You lathered up, the scent of trees filling the shower. There was something relaxing about that somehow, and you stood there lost in it for a moment before rinsing. It was a 3-in-1 with face wash, so you figured you might as well use it there too. That gave you a hefty dose of that cedar scent directly by your nose. 

You realized it’d already been ten minutes and hastily switched off the water, stepping out of the steamy cocoon before grabbing your towel to dry. The mirror in front of you was entirely fogged up as you slipped the towel around and around, but as it cleared something caught your eye. Holding the towel loosely around your waist you stepped closer to the glass, staring at your reflection as it became more visible. It looked like there was something dark on your face. You bent over the counter to get a closer look, staring at what looked like dirt smeared across your upper lip. You wiped the condensation off the mirror and leaned in even closer. It was hair, soft but dark hairs had suddenly sprouted across your upper lip and it looked like on your chin too. You tilted your head around to make sure but it really did seem like they’d just sprouted suddenly. Then your jaw dropped.

As you stared at your reflection you could see thick brown hairs popping out along your jaw, spreading from your chin outwards. The hairs pushed out quickly, climbing up your cheeks engulfing the peach fuzz that was there before. Your wispy mustache thickened up as thicker, darker hairs sprouted between older soft ones, spreading and connecting with the rest of your burgeoning beard. Hairs poured out of your face, itching as follicles were pushed into overdrive cranking out a thick rug across your cheeks. The hairs grew thicker and wirier, tangling together into a solid mass pushing out. It quickly passed an inch long, then two, then three. Your face had vanished entirely behind a curtain of masculinity, and you could feel the itch of new hairs popping out on your neck as it worked down. In shock, you raised your hands and thrust your fingers deep into the beard, scratching at the hairy mass that had appeared within seconds.

You didn’t have time to admire this feat, as moments later you suddenly bowled over, feeling like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You collapsed onto your ass on the bathroom tile, looking down at yourself. Your belly began to grow, pushing out. Your eyes went wide as it hardened with muscle, it wasn’t abs but it showed real strength. You felt the gut, your fingers prodding the layer of thick hard muscle underneath a slight bit of fat. The intense soreness that underlaid your new musclegut spread up, and you watched as your chest pressed out into thick pecs. The mounds pushed and tightened into refined muscle, before softening slightly into huge pillows adorning your chest. Your traps sprang next, putting on size, followed by your shoulders as they puffed into serious boulders. You could feel muscles bulking up all over, the soreness gradually replaced by ecstasy as your body exploded with mass. Your back widened, your arms grew into full-on gun shows, hands thickening to match, your quads and calves doubled in size, even your ass plumped up. It felt like your back was cracking on repeat as it stretched upward, your legs pushing out equally to add another three inches to your height. Not to be outdone, your feet popped as they grew another few sizes.

You laid there, back against the wall, panting from the intense growth. Though it happened in front of your eyes you could scarcely believe it as you squeezed your huge muscle tits in your hands. Sweat was pouring down your huge frame, muscles fatigued severely from inflating so much. That was when the itch returned. Starting in the center of your chest, you looked down to see a thick dark hair push through the skin. You reached up to grab it, feeling the coarse strand between your fingers as you feel more pushing up against the rest of your hand. What started as a few hairs quickly grew into a patch, spreading out as more hairs cropped up over your luscious pecs. A wave of stubble pressed out over the expanse of muscle, shoots of dark hairs elongating into thick strands that gained some curl as they grew. Within seconds your chest was buried in a continuously growing rug, new curls and swirls developing as more hairs grew in.  The itch crept outward from your chest, bringing with it a tidal wave of growth. Your collarbone vanished beneath the carpet as wiry strands connected up to your beard. Your shoulders itched from the fur coating taking root, your traps similarly felt the growth. Your bulging biceps and triceps got their own dusting, and your thick forearms became the site of the most luxurious forest of hair, thick strands popping up across the backs of your hands and knuckles.

The feeling of fur erupting across your body was electric, the uncomfortable aspects of itching drowned out by surges of pleasure. Your pits were next to feel it, an increase in sweat leading the way for the blossoming of what were surely to be the most masculine pits around. The bare skin tingled as thick, wiry hairs burst forth, quickly growing into a dense tuft to catch all the sweat dripping down. The hairs tangled together, spreading out over a wider and wider tract, escaping your pits entirely to connect to your chest rug and arm hair. New hairs pushed out between the older ones, until even scratching at the area couldn’t yield the skin below. Your gut itched as the carpet on your chest swiftly moved down over it, burying it beneath layers and layers of fur.

Your groin itched as your sparse bush exploded in size, hair pushing out and spreading like wildfire. The hairs surged up to connect with the rug on your torso and down over your thighs. Your balls ached as they swelled before becoming hidden behind a dense carpet. Your pubes grew denser as more and more hair squeezed out, climbing up the shaft of your growing cock. You could see the rug advancing down your legs, coating your thick thighs and calves in hair, before your feet pushed out a generous covering of hair, with tufts on the toes. Your ass itched as both cheeks darkened slightly as a fur coat enveloped them before racing up your back, the wide expanse itching as hairs conquered the open skin.

Your mind suddenly felt foggy as the stress of school faded, replaced by the desire to get out into nature. What were you doing cramped in this tiny apartment? You got up off the floor and looked again in the mirror, a scrawny student no longer in the reflection. Instead was a tall burly man, bursting with muscle and absolutely coated with hair. It felt right. You walked into your closet to find it now full of flannels and jeans, your work clothes. You pulled on the dirty jeans and threw on the flannel, only buttoning it about halfway. Your work boots were waiting by the door, and you slid them onto your newly grown feet. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door, not eager to be late to work again. You were a lumberjack, after all, the world depended on the wood you provided. It felt good, and you grinned as you hopped into your truck and sped off past your old campus, heading into the forest.

[i-wanna-write]

Stupid Plan - Billy Butcher x Reader

Prompt: You hate Billy Butcher and you hate his stupid plans.

Wanting: 18+ ONLY. SMUT. Rough Smut. Choking. Mention of strangulation. It’s The Boys guys. Swearing. Lots of use of the word fuck. Some use of cunt. Mentions of blood and gore - again, it’s the Boys

Word Count: 3130

Disclaimer: I find all pics off google! This is the first ever Smut I’ve written. I’m so sorry if it’s trash!

————————————————————————

You hated Billy Butcher with every fiber of your being starting with the first moment met him. When you first met him all those years ago it was like mixing oil with water. Your boss at the CIA partnered the two of you together and you wanted to kill yourself then and there. Years of working with the foul-mouthed borderline rogue agent only further fueled your mutual hatred for one another.

You hated how he always called the shots and barely listened to your input when it came to planning. You hated how he was a shoot first ask questions later type of partner. You hated how his vulgar language never stopped even when talking to his superiors. Most of all, you hated how attracted to him you were.

Chocolate brown eyes, jet black hair, jaw scribbled with facial hair. His broad shoulders meant for gripping onto and an ass meant for grabbing.

You really hated him.

When he reached out to you years after leaving the CIA, you laughed in his face when he asked you to join him in taking down Supes. But his serious face didn’t falter and your laughing quickly stopped, now cursing yourself for hearing him out.

Not only did he rope you into this rag tag team, but he got Frenchie and M.M to join too. As well as baby face Hughie who just had an unlucky hand dealt to him.

That’s how you find yourself now, fuming in a silent car sandwiched between Frenchie and Hughie on your way to your underground hideout. Butcher is driving, M.M in the passenger's seat. The Frenchman has the window cracked with a cigarette hanging between his teeth while Hughie bounces his knee up and down in anxiety.

You can only imagine the tight grip Butcher has on the steering wheel. The thoughts of anger going through his head. His plan was a stupid one and you called him on that the minute he proposed the idea. But one dark look from him had you shutting up and rolling your eyes, going along with the stupid plan with the other boys.

Emphasis on stupid plan.

Your goal was to attend a Supes charity event to follow the lead on a Supe dealing Compound V. Rumor was that he was going to make a big appearance and donate a shit ton of money to the charity, allowing him to gain more favors with the public as he wanted to join the Seven.

That’s when the stupid plan started. Butcher had you and Frenchie pretend to be married, which was the first stupid idea he pitched. The Frenchman is your best friend but the two of you work together on missions as well as a cat and a dog. He gets too easily excited at the smallest bit of action while you always go into things level headed.

You two were dressed to impress, Frenchie in an expensive suit and yourself in a revealing cocktail dress. While the two of you were to mingle and pick up comments of where the guest of honor would be, the other three boys were to be scouting the hotel rooms looking for him based on the information you gathered.

So, with the first stupid idea being you pretending to be married to Frenchie, the second was the revealing dress. Because the guest of honor wasn’t out preparing in his hotel room. No, he was mingling with the crowd when his eyes landed on you.

You told Butcher that you being on the floor was not a good idea. That you were the exact type of woman this man was accused of fraternizing with. But did he listen? No. You felt like you were reliving your CIA days - half cocked plans, shoot first, questions later, deal with whatever mess you caused later.

You had to use the restroom and informed Frenchie you’d be back in a moment. The Frenchman merely nodded, turning his attention back to those around him. Another reason why you two should never be partners in this sort of thing. Because any other partner would have gone with you but Frenchie just gets too excited in these sorts of things.

That’s how you found yourself, alone and cornered in the women’s bathroom, the guest of honor not letting you escape. You whispered into your com to tell the boys, Butcher telling you to stall, that they’ll be there soon. You learned not to rely on Butcher early on

So when the boys entered the women’s room to find you covered in blood, the back of a toilet seat in hand, to say Butcher was pissed was an understatement. The Supe made one to many advances, not catching the hint. He backed you into a stall and the two of you began to fight, him eventually encircling his hands around your neck. Reaching for the only thing you could grab, you found the back of the toilet seat and bashed his head in, repeatedly

“I told you it was a stupid plan.” You said to Butcher, dropping the seat cover and stepping over the body to leave the restroom and head to the car

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car door being slammed and look up to see that you’re back to the hideout, Butcher already having exited. You sigh and get out on the same side as Frenchie, closing the door behind you.

“Dumbing fucking cunt.” Butcher mumbles as you five enter the hideout.

You roll your eyes and push pass everyone to enter the bathroom, needing to get the Supes’ blood off of you. You close the door behind you and stand in front of the mirror, looking at yourself.

Your face is speckled with blood and your eye is starting to bruise, purple peeking out through your naturally tan skin. Your hair that was once in a neat pulled back high pony is frizzy, strands falling out to frame your face. You notice light purple marks already beginning to form on your neck, showing signs of the strangulation you endured only an hour ago.

Clenching your fists, you turn on the water, steam rising to the mirror. You place your hands under it and scrub, wanting your blood and the Supes gone.

“Fucking Butcher.” You mumble to yourself. “Fucking stupid fucking plan.”

“Well maybe you should fucking listen for a change, aye?” A British voice says from your right.

You jump and turn towards the voice, seeing the large frame of one Billy Butcher in the bathroom, door shut behind him. You shut off the water and then turn towards him. His face his angry, his arms at his sides as you watch him clench and unclench his fists.

You let you a chuckle. “Me listen for a change?” You ask incredulously as you throw you hands up in the air. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Is it?” He asks, cocking his head to his side and bearing his teeth. “How’s that now?”

“Your fucking plan was fucking stupid to begin with and I. Told. You. That.” You take a step forward and point a finger into his chest to emphasize the last point.

“What’s stupid is you going of on your fucking own and being dumb enough to get fucking cornered by the fucking Supe.” Butcher yells back, smacking your hand away from his body.

“It was your genius idea to have Frenchie and I go in together - which I advised against!” You yell back just as loud.

Yelling feels good. The past months of putting up with Billy Butcher and his always right complex has finally taken its toll on you. You could put up with him in the CIA, really you could. There your goal was mutual and laid out in front of you. But now, now Butcher only seems to have his own agenda and never shares it with anyone.

“It was your brilliant idea to have me go in! When I fucking told you it was a bad. Fucking. Idea!” You scream.

“Well it was your brilliant idea to fucking bash the cunts head in, losing our lead on Compound V!”

Butcher's face is in yours, so close you can feel his breath against your lips. So badly do you want to punch the asshole. In fact, you want to take the back of this toilet off and bash his head in. Maybe than his plans won’t be as stupid as this one.

“You know what?” You ask, raising your hands in surrender. “I’m done.”

You move past Butcher, wanting to leave the bathroom, leave the hideout, leave this rag tag team. Your hand is on the door and opens it about 2 inches before it’s slammed shut. You feel Butcher’s body behind yours, his hand on the right side by your face.

“No.” He says gruffly, turning you around so you’re now facing him, back pressed against the door. “You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

You have had it. He’s been walking over the four of you for months and you’re done. It’s always his idea, his plans, his reasoning. Not anymore. Fuck this. Fuck the team. Fuck the Supes. And most importantly, fuck Billy Butcher.

“You know what? Fuck yo-“

You’re cut off by Butcher’s lips slamming into yours, his body pressing against you to pin you between him and the door. His lips move roughly, tasting of whiskey he probably took a swig of before following you in here.

You immediately respond, kissing back just as hard. Your lips move sloppily together, both of you so angry at the other you want the kiss to hurt. His hands are placed on your hips, gripping tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. You bring your hands up to his hair and yank hard, wanting to do the same damage back.

He tongue pries open your mouth and immediately finds yours, tracing over it. You give back the same intensity he is, using your mouth to fight him since your arms physically can’t. An idea forms in your head and you pull away slightly, grabbing his bottom lip between your teeth and biting down. Hard.

Butcher immediately pulls away and you use the opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaves up and down and your body is warm, you’re positive your flushed. Butcher looks the same, his breath coming out in pants, cheeks red, hair going in all different directions.

“Did you just fucking bite me,” he asks, his hand going up to his mouth to check for blood.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking cunt I would’ve been gentler.” You goad him.

You watch as his eyes darken and he’s immediately on you again, lips on yours. This time his hands are on your ass and he pushes up, signally what he wants you to do. Your arms grip his shoulders as you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Butcher immediately pins you back against the door and you pull away to gasp as you feel his hard cock against between your legs. Heat immediately rushes to your core and you shift slightly so it hits the right spot, brushing against your clit.

“Fuck Butcher.” You moan, hands moving down his body to reach the bottom of his shirt, wanting it off.

His hips press against you harder, causing you to throw your head back against the door. You watch through heavy eyelids as he removes his shirt in one go before finding your lips again. You didn’t even get the chance to admire his shirtless body, his hands tightly squeezing your ass as your own grip onto his shoulders.

You feel yourself begin to move and pull away to watch as he carries you a short distance to the sink, placing you atop it. He shoots you a quick grin before pulling at your dress, sliding it down your shoulders before his lips attach to your neck, trailing down.

“Ahhh.” Escapes you as he begins to suck on your pulse point, your hips bucking to once again feel his hard cock beneath his jeans against you.

He sucks harshly before biting down, his tongue then swirling along the mark that will be there tomorrow. While starting a new mark, his hands further pull down your dress, freeing your boobs from their constraints. Both hands grab them, fitting perfectly in his hands as he squeezes roughly.

“Fuck sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent.” Butcher mumbles against your neck before traveling lower.

His lips find one of your nipples, sucking and biting causing you to scrape your nails up his back and latch onto his shoulders. A sensation shoots down your body to your core and you buck your hips again, wishing his jeans were gone and he was already inside of you. One hand finds your free breast and squeezes the nipple tightly, another moan escaping you.

Sweat beads on your skin as his mouth switches its attention to your other nipple, his hand venturing further south before it meets your thigh. He bunches your dress up so it’s now only wrapped around your waist and presses a hand against your mound.

“Oh my God.” You groan as he pinches your clit, another sensation moving through your body.

“No underwear aye sweetheart?” Butcher starts, pulling away to look in your eyes. “If I knew you wanted me that bad all you had to do was ask.”

You roll your eyes. “Fuck yo-“

But Butcher cuts you off again, this time because of his finger entering you. His thick digit moves in and out slowly, your core so wet it can easily slide. You slide one of your hands down to the front of his jeans, blindly searching for his button and zipper.

You feel his other hand touch yours, helping you get his cock free. You pull his jeans down just enough for it to escape and immediately grab it, noting how your whole hand can’t fit all the way around.

“Ah Fuck.” Butcher groans, his hips rocking to allow his cock to slide through your enclosed hand.

He adds a second finger and you throw your head back, eyes closed. He starts to set a pace and you try to follow it with your hand on his cock, your hips slightly rocking to the motion. His fingers curl up, finding the spot you desperately needed him to find.

“Fuck Butcher.” You gasp, your hips starting to increase their pace.

Only he immediately pulls his fingers out of you.

You open your eyes and begin to lift your head but stop as a hand wraps around your neck. Your body tenses, your gaze meets Butchers. His eyes are dark, face flushed and sweat coating his skin.

“You say my name when I’m inside of you.” He states, his grip tightening slightly to emphasize the demand before loosening.

You can only nod and that’s enough for him as he guides his cock into you. You gasp at the intrusion, his two fingers not even coming close to the size of his cock. You feel it stretching your walls and try to take in air as it touches every crevice inside of you.

Billy doesn’t give you time to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out before ramming back into you. You feel slight pain at the repeated intrusion but it quickly turns into only pleasure as he sets a fast and rough pace. His hand doesn’t leave your neck, his other tightly gripping your hip to hold you in place. Both of your hands grab onto his shoulders, squeezing tightly, nails digging into them again.

“Fuck Billy. Fuck.” You say as his cock reaches a deep place inside of you.

“How’s tha’ sweetheart?” He asks, his lips attacking your neck in kisses and bites. “This why you’re always such a bitch? Huh? Needed me to fuck that attitude out of you?”

You don’t respond. Instead, you move your hands to his head, guiding his lips to yours. You move just as roughly as before, teeth clashing and tongues dancing as you both try to fuck the fight out of each other.

Billy’s hand on your neck slides down to reach your clit, rubbing your juices over it. You pull your mouth away, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

“Fuck that. Look at me.” Billy starts, his hand leaving your clit to grab your chin roughly. “Look at this.” He guides your head down, your eyes watching as his cock exits and enters you, coated with your juices. “Look at how wet you are for me. How good my cock makes you feel. You like tha’ sweetheart?”

You nod, looking back up to meet his gaze, his brown eyes so dark they appear black. His hand returns to rub your clit and you stare into each other's eyes as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your panting breaths fill the room.

“Billy. I’m- I’m close.” You tell him, feeling that familiar sensation creep deep into your stomach.

Billy’s response isn’t verbal but you know he’s heard you as his pace picks up and he rubs your clit harder. You moan a little louder causing Billy to kiss you again.

“Don’t want the boys to have dinner and a show aye.” He grins as he pulls away.

His hips continue to snap, his cock sliding out of you only to hammer back in, hitting the deep part of you repeatedly. Your core begins to tighten and you squeeze your eyes shut as the familiar feeling starts to take over.

“Fuck, Billy. Shit. Billy.” You chant, the feeling now taking over.

Your eyes remain closed as your body tenses and you feel yourself come undone. Your channel squeezes his cock as it continues to move in and out of you, Billy not stopping as you ride your high. You hands latch onto his neck and you pull him back to a kiss as the feeling slowly begins to die down.

Billy feels you unclench and pulls out, his mouth still connected to yours as his hands pump himself once, twice, before he releases a groan against your lip as he cums onto your dress and stomach.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Billy says as he pulls away from your lips.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, both of you panting as you come down from your highs.

“It was still a stupid plan.” You whisper to him, a small smile on your lips.

Billy just gives a disbelieved laugh before leaning down to kiss you once more.

If all his stupid plans of the past ended like this, maybe you wouldn’t hate him as much as you do.

[signofspeed]

ᯓ★ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY!

it’s your mums birthday but your step dad can’t seem to take his eyes off of you (mean step dad!joel miller x f!reader smut)

a/n: my first Joel fic so go nice on me lol, if you enjoyed then reblog and show some love. this was so fun to write, enjoyyy

The party was everything your mum had dreamed of—warm lights strung across the backyard, music playing softly in the background, and her closest friends and family gathered to celebrate her big day. It was perfect, right down to the last detail, even if the man she was cheating on Joel with had the audacity to show up. You leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, sipping from a glass of wine and watching the scene unfold through the open sliding door. People laughed, danced, and toasted to her, utterly oblivious to the tension simmering in the house.

You couldn’t help it—your eyes drifted across the room to Joel.

He was standing near the corner, nursing a beer and looking as ruggedly handsome as ever in his fitted flannel shirt and worn jeans. His salt-and-pepper hair was slightly tousled, and his intense brown eyes scanned the room—lingering on you when he thought no one was watching.

He had been stealing glances at you all night, his attention as unavoidable as a magnetic pull. It started innocently enough—a brush of his hand against yours when you passed him a plate of hors d’oeuvres, the subtle shift in his posture whenever you were near. But the heat in his gaze told you this wasn’t just polite attention.

It was something darker. Something forbidden.

You shouldn’t have reciprocated. You shouldn’t have noticed the way his broad shoulders flexed when he reached for something or the way his jaw clenched when he caught you smiling at one of the younger guests. You certainly shouldn’t have liked the jealousy flashing in his eyes.

But you did.

You set down your empty glass, heart pounding, and turned toward the hallway, needing a moment away from the noise to catch your breath. As you passed through the kitchen door, a strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the darkened laundry room.

The laundry room door slammed shut behind you with a soft click, cutting off the cheerful noise of the party outside. Joel turned the lock with a deliberate motion, his broad back blocking the exit, his presence suffocating in the small space. He didn’t say a word, not at first. His dark eyes bore into yours, his lips pulled into a tight line.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he asked finally, his voice low and menacing.

You blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I—What are you talking about?”

He scoffed, a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t play dumb with me.” His boots thudded against the tile as he took a step closer, then another, until you were pressed against the cold metal of the washer. “You’ve been walking around all goddamn night in that little dress, batting your eyes at every guy who looks at you, like a slut”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he growled, cutting you off. His hands came up, gripping your hips with a bruising force. “You think I didn’t see the way you smiled at that little punk by the bar? Laughing at his jokes like you didn’t know I was standing right there?”

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of his anger.

“Quiet,” he snapped, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’ve been pushing me all night, sweetheart. Acting like a fucking tease. But you know what? I’m done playing nice.”

His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement racing through you, leaving you breathless. Joel’s hands slid up your sides, his rough palms brushing over the thin fabric of your dress.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he demanded, his voice a low growl in your ear. “You’ve been begging for my attention all night. Now you’ve got it.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his mouth crashed against yours, his lips claiming you in a bruising, possessive kiss. His beard scratched against your skin, the sensation adding to the overwhelming heat building between you. You gasped against him, and he took full advantage, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste you.

Joel’s hands roamed your body with a kind of urgency that bordered on roughness, sliding down to your thighs and pulling you closer. He hoisted you onto the washer in one swift motion, his body slotting between your legs as he pressed against you.

“You think you can act like that out there and not face the consequences?” he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, making you whimper. “No, baby. You’re mine. And I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

His hands bunched the fabric of your dress, shoving it up around your hips with no regard for how it wrinkled. You trembled under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers found the thin band of your panties.

“Already soaked,” he murmured, his voice thick with disdain and hunger. “Of course you are, filthy little thing.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his fingers hooking under the fabric and tearing it off you with one swift motion. The sound of the fabric ripping sent a jolt through you, your head spinning with the knowledge that there was no turning back now.

Joel stepped back just enough to undo his belt, the metallic clink making your pulse race. His eyes never left yours as he yanked his jeans down just enough to free himself, his hard length standing proud and thick.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re gonna sit there and take it. No whining. No complaints. Got it?”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, his hands gripping your thighs and yanking you closer to the edge of the washer.

Without another word, he pushed into you in one hard thrust, stretching you painfully around him. You cried out, the sensation a mix of pleasure and pain, but Joel didn’t stop. He didn’t give you time to adjust, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm that left you gasping for air.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he took you. “So fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mingling with your ragged breathing and his deep, guttural groans. Joel’s pace was brutal, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“You think anyone out there knows what a little slut you are?” he asked, his tone mocking as his hand came up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Huh? Think they’d still think you’re so sweet if they could see you right now? Sat here and taking me like this?”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on. The heat in your core built with each thrust, the pressure almost unbearable.

“That’s right,” Joel muttered, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like the dirty little thing you are.”

“Yes,” you gasped, the word tumbling from your lips before you could stop it.

“Say it,” he demanded, his grip on your jaw tightening. “Say you belong to me.”

“I belong to you,” you choked out, your voice trembling.

“Damn right you do,” he growled, his hand slipping down to find the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs. His thumb circled it with maddening precision, sending you hurtling toward the edge. “Now come for me, baby. Show me who you belong to.”

His words were your undoing. Your body tensed, the wave of pleasure crashing over you and leaving you trembling in his arms. Joel followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the faint hum of the washer beneath you grounding you in the aftermath.

Joel leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t forget who owns you,” he murmured, his tone soft but no less commanding.

As he stepped back, adjusting his jeans and belt, he smirked down at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Clean yourself up,” he said, tossing your torn panties at you. “And get back to the party. Best not make it obvious what we’ve just been up to”

You nodded, still too dazed to speak, as he unlocked the door and disappeared into the hallway.

Left alone, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of what had just happened, you couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. You belonged to Joel, and there was no denying it even if he was married to your mum.

[uglypastels]

Eddie knows you have a voice kink and decides to take advantage of it 👀

(ie not me having a voice kink, absolutely not)

this took me too long but i also tried to rewrite this like four times because ughhhhh you are so fucking real for this one. im obsessed. so yeah, i hope you enjoy it <3 and thank you for the request

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. porn without plot, straight from the beginning. voice kink, so obviously dirty talk. fingering. mention of oral (f receiving). mention of p in v sex. bondage. (soft) dom!eddie.

masterlist // inbox //

‘Fuck sweetheart, you look so pretty, all spread out for me like that,’ Eddie smirked as he looked down at you. His hair fell over your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, and his hands found their place at your hips. You couldn’t help but arch your back, feeling that gravitational pull that Eddie exerted… as the handcuffs dug into your wrists, there was little you could do but thrust your hips his way. 

‘So—fucking—pretty.’ He muttered between kisses over your cheek and jaw. ‘Could put you in a museum. Hang you up like this. Look at you all day.’ His voice was gruff, filled with the sexual frustration you were both tortured with over the past few hours, but the cheek and humour never left him. 

‘Maybe we should, hmm?’ His low hum sent shivers all through your neck and down your spine. ‘Hang you up, I mean. I still got that hook in the ceiling from the–’ 

‘Maybe– maybe next time, Eddie.’ It wasn’t the worst idea he had come up with, but you were so far gone you couldn’t imagine yourself getting out of this bed. All you could focus on was the deep growl of his voice– the meaning of the words barely even settled in your brain. 

‘It’s a deal, baby.’ He smiled and gave you another kiss which you returned with a moan. One of his hands had found its way up to your breast, pressing into the soft skin, thumb roaming over the most sensitive parts. 

‘Eddie,’ you moaned his name out softly, receiving another hum in response. 

‘I know, baby.’ He said after you got stuck on his name for a moment or two. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel good.’ His kisses were going lower and lower. Peppering your neck, breast, and abdomen. His path was marked out clearly. ‘So, good.’

But you whined in desperation as his lips reached below your stomach. If it hadn’t felt so good, maybe you would have been quicker on the notice, but despite it all, you still had needs. 

Eddie halted in his moves at your word. His grip on you tightened securely, big brown eyes locked in on you, checking for any signs of worry. With everything put on hold, you became more conscious of the fire burning in your body for him. Couldn’t lay still, but Eddie wouldn’t move.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ 

‘I don’t–’ He was so far away, and you couldn’t do anything about it with those damn handcuffs locking you in. They wouldn’t budge even at your hardest pull, and with each second, it was becoming harder and harder to think. ‘Eddie, I–’ 

‘Yeah?’ He rubbed his hand over your thigh. It must have been meant as reassurance, but all the triggers were shot up straight to your core. ‘Baby? Hey, are you still with me?’ 

‘Yes, just...’ You didn’t want to say it. Eddie raised a curious brow as you tried to spit out your wish.

‘Don’t go down on me. Not right now.’

‘Everything good down there?’ He squeezed your thigh a bit harder, a playful grin on his lips again.

‘Yes, it’s fine, fuck me if you want, just not– not with your mouth.’ 

Eddie couldn’t help the small scoff that passed his lips. ‘Ok… may I ask why?’ He tried not to look offended. You knew how much he loved this specific activity, and usually, you did too, but this time, something different got you going. 

‘Because I–’ you huffed out, ‘because I’m getting turned on by you talking right now, so I don’t want you to stop now just to eat me out.’ If you hadn’t been cuffed to the bed posts, you would have hidden underneath the covers in embarrassment. 

There was a second of silence as Eddie processed what you said. He blinked slowly and started to climb his way back up to the head of the bed. Arms on either side of you, locking you in even more. 

His lips were nearly on yours as he spoke again. ‘Speaking of talking, we should do something about this shyness of yours. You know I will do anything for you, princess, so why not just tell me? You’re a big girl, aren’t you?’ 

 ‘Y-yes.’ The small word got caught in your throat. Nevertheless, Eddie rewarded it with a brief kiss.

‘Hmm, so you want me to talk,’ he said after pulling away, ‘what should I talk about?’ 

‘Anything— sex!’ You added quickly, knowing how Eddie could be with his humour. ‘Anything that’s– you know.’ 

‘You want me to say what I wanna do to you? How I’m going to fuck you? Hmm, is that what my princess wants?’ With each word, his voice got deeper, darker. 

‘Yes, please.’  While yours became breathless, encapsulated in moans. ‘Please, Eddie.’

‘God, I love how you beg for me, how you say my name. Gonna make you scream it tonight, baby. You’re gonna be my good girl and scream for me when I stretch your tight little pussy, hmm? Will you do that for me?’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ You squeaked out the last word when you felt his hand down on you. 

‘Thought so. Always so good for me.’ Eddie slowly started closing his fingers in on your slit, carefully approaching it with his next question too. ‘Would have loved to have my mouth on you now, sweetheart. Lick you fucking up… but my fingers will do for now, won’t they?’ He said it as if the feeling of having him deep inside you wasn’t ecstatic. Like you didn’t daydream about those fingers almost every day. 

 ‘I want them in me, Eddie. Fuck. I need it.’ And as soon as he heard it, Eddie started rubbing those close circles on your clit, getting you even more hot and bothered and ready for what was next to come. 

‘Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.’ He had a Cheshire cat smile across his face as he kept on teasing your slit. ‘All for me? All for my voice?’ 

‘You know it is.’ It wasn’t the first time you expressed your love for how Eddie sounds. You had told him on several occasions he had a hot voice, both on and off stage and in bed, but this time was certainly on a new level. Something in you felt like you could cum just from listening to him. 

‘Perhaps, but I’d still like you to say it.’ He kissed your cheek. 

‘Your voice turns me on so fucking much, Eddie.’ At this moment, he finally decided to insert his fingers and push them deep inside you. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘I fucking adore you, baby. Taking my fingers so well– shit, I can feel you clenching as I speak. Oh, you really do love it, don’t you? Just wait until I really have my way with you– oh, fuck.’ He chuckled as you reacted to his words and actions. He leaned in so his words would be directly at your ear. Soft but nasty whispers to electrify your whole being. ‘Just imagine how good it will feel when I have my cock inside you, baby. Fill you up and fuck all thoughts out of you. Until you can’t say anything but my name. Until you can’t think about anything but me.’

‘Eddiee,’ you whined as he sped up his movements, making you shake with his fingers alone. 

‘That’s right, baby. C’mon, don’t be scared to be loud. Do you know how hot you fucking sound like this? All fucked out, and because of me? Hmm, want everyone around to know how good you’re being treated here. My princess fucked like a proper queen, aren’t you?’ 

All you could do was nod. You could hear the wetness of your pussy by this point. The tight knot in your stomach was only getting worse, ready to burst, while Eddie had no intention of stopping soon. 

‘Yeah, you’re close, hmm?  Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, c’mon, come for me, baby.’ His was was so deep and aggressive that it felt more like growling. ‘Come on, my fingers. C’mon.’

When it finally happened, your whole body went limp as the pleasure overcame you.

Eddie praised you through it all, his voice now covered in honey. ‘Such a good girl. Fuck, you did so well.’ But it might have all become too much when he pulled his fingers out of you, now glistening in your juices, and put them in his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction at the taste and, once done, smiled wickedly once more and said: ‘Divine, I tell you, sweetheart. Fucking. Divine.’ His hand was soaked up to his wrist, so he went to lick his palm. ‘Might have to go in for more later on either way.’

‘Give me a moment, why don’t you,’ you laughed, out of breath.

‘Of course, of course.’ He kissed your forehead. ‘But don’t think I’m done with you just yet.’ 

the end.

yeah, kinda ironic ending there. lol. sorry.

but thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to see what you thought of it <3

[introcoryo]

— au where you’re reaped as sejanus plinth’s tribute from district 2, and he breaks into the arena to get his final goodbyes in.

coriolanus can see the brunette’s jaw tighten in his peripheral vision when highbottom announces that he’ll be mentoring one of the district 2 tributes. that tightness is followed by a deep, deep scowl when the reapings are aired, and your sweet, lamb-like face is shown on the now, sejanus notices, glaring screen. he has half a mind to storm out, but instead swallows thickly to fool his brain into thinking he’s calm and collected.

he remembers you, as if a remnant from a previous life. sejanus knows this is a shameful way of thinking. he’s no capitolite. they can throw as much money as they want at him, keep his stomach full and plump of steak and apple pie, give him the so called luxury of attending the academy, but he knows his name will metaphorically never leave that reaping bowl. for each year the hunger games have commenced, three names were picked from district 2. a boy’s, a girl’s, and sejanus’s. he is in that arena with them, although not physically. and that is what hurts him most. his name, although not verbally chosen and spoken into a microphone, is amongst that litter, and yet he has the privilege, like every capitolite, of leaving the arena every year when the victor is announced, when his fellow district 2 tributes do not have that option.

upon first greeting you at the capitol zoo, a stinging pang shoots through his throat. he has absolutely no idea how he’ll be able to mentor you without completely destroying himself in the process. it’s eating him up inside; this hope that the academy has indirectly forced you to place in him. how that hope, crushed, would leave as you, god forbid, would have to take your final breaths in that arena, with nothing to attach to that despair but sejanus’s face.

you’re timid at first. you too, remembered this familiar face. the big brown eyes, never dull of emotion. long, fluttering eyelashes. he’s much taller now, with curly hair that looks like raw hazelnut under the sun. with the way he’s looking at you, you figured he did not outgrow his tenderness. it was no look of pity, though, but a look of understanding. of sharing your fear, instead of accepting your fate. that made you feel a comfort you haven’t felt since standing in your district’s square.

after a few minutes of silence, of examining each other wordlessly, communicating with shared gazes, sejanus decides to speak up first, albeit everyone knowing it is his heart that speaks for him.

“i am so, so sorry for—”

he begins, but you stop him. there wasn’t a point to this, you think. unless he was the one who picked out your name specifically, why would he even feel the need to apologize? that certainly won’t change anything.

“it’s fine. it’s not your fault. i know, big elephant in the room, i’m behind bars at a zoo. the odds just weren’t in my favor. i’m not sure they will decide they like me later, either.”

sejanus clenches a hand around one of the steel bars at your pessimism, but how can he blame you? he has no hope himself, how could he even possibly think you would? he wishes he could effortlessly bend the barrier separating you two with his palms, grabbing you by the hand and running off somewhere else. somewhere safe. somewhere hopeful. he knows he can’t, and that leaves a shake in his voice as he chooses his next words delicately.

“i just… if there’s any way i could help you, guarantee that you would… walk out of there unharmed…”

“well, i saw the district 12 girl with her supposed mentor in here. inside the zoo. you’re mine, i assume? do what a mentor has to do. mentor me out… and some food won’t hurt, either.”

at the mention of that, sejanus’s face slightly lights up, and he reaches into his scarlet colored blazer pocket, taking out a wrapped napkin and handing it to you. you reach through the bars to take this mysterious item from him, fingers lingering just a bit, and unwrap it to find a sandwich, diagonally cut. you smile wistfully at the simple meal before you, this being the very first act of kindness you’ve been on the receiving end of since coming to the capitol. so much for hosting etiquette.

“thank you, sejanus, really… here,” you say in an unanticipated small voice, holding out one of the pieces.

the brunette freezes. you’re still kind. all of this, and you’re still kind. perhaps that’s all you’ll ever be. perhaps that’s what will be what dooms you in that arena. you will try to speak heart to heart, not sword to sword. he loathes that he’s thinking this way. he absolutely despises that he knows you will not be able to walk away from this without staining your hands red, but what has made a home in his chest is the miserable feeling of not knowing whether you’ll be able to do that. he’s district. he will forever be district, a vow he made at birth. but here he is, standing in front of you, free. here he is, handing you food as though you truly belonged in that zoo. he is everything you wished you could be in that moment, and yet you still decide to share your meal with him, despite the rumbling coming from your stomach. he wants to take it. wants to act like this is a normal picnic that you two are having together, but he knows you need that full sandwich. he knows you should take all you can get.

and so he declines politely. you begin to talk about the changes in district 2 since he’s left, and how life continued, yet everyone was stuck. sejanus emphasizes. he listens. but the dread has not left his system. he starts to think about how he’ll see you in another life if this one wasn’t enough. there’s so much time on the other side, and here it all feels like a constant countdown. never knowing if your time will be cut short. he mentally chastises himself; he needs to be optimistic. he needs to be here for you, now. he needs to think about the life you’ll have when he gets you out, not if. soon enough, you’ll believe it too.

to say that sejanus was a complete wreck watching you enter that arena would be an understatement. the cameras capture your soft features so well that you look displaced. lost. you shouldn’t be there, he thinks. no one should be there. the tears that built up in a split second blur his vision, and when the bell rings, he is there, running as a district 2 tribute.

sejanus watches as you take his advice, as you run and hide immediately, and he is kept at bay through at least that. he can’t lose it now. not when you’ve placed your entire life bare in his hands.

but sejanus is weak, too. he feels too much too often. his thoughts are frantic, and he finds himself in that arena the following night. the thumping in his chest intensifies as the voice at the entrance pleads him to enjoy the show, and he scoffs at that. he checked the cameras before coming, so he knows exactly where you are, and he’s so overwhelmed with the thought of seeing you that it doesn’t register that he has now, momentarily, taken the path he very well could’ve lived if he had not moved to the capitol. sejanus plinth, district 2 tribute.

light footed, he makes his way across the arena, and up the stands. he saw you come out of hiding when it was safe out, when most of the tributes were either asleep or in the tunnels, gathering a weapon or two from the cornucopia then settling on high ground. he figures you were startled once you heard the automatic greeting that played when he walked in, so he whispers your name.

he whispers it again. so delicately. laced with so much sweetness, it feels wrong to say it here.

and then a third time. the syllables now come out desperate. overwrought. he can’t leave without seeing you. touching you. it will break him.

“sejanus?” his ears perk up, and he looks around, frenzied, trying to distinguish the direction your voice came from. you peek out from one of the stands, and when you find those big, brown eyes looking back at you, you pick yourself up entirely and run to hold the man before you. the man who rushed into the possibility of death head on just to wrap his arms around you. he’ll face it all, just for that. oh how he wished you knew how badly he wanted to swap your places.

“you’re… but how? why? it’s dangerous here—” sejanus wastes no time, cupping your cheeks and diving in to kiss you. his hands are holding on to you for dear life, as if his knees will give out without the support. his eyebrows are knit together, focused on the feel of your lips on his. they’re dry, chapped, and cracked, but he doesn’t care. he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip to give you some relief, making a mental note to send you some water as soon as he leaves.

he kisses you until it hurts him. until his lips are swollen and red. until the way you’re tightening your hands on his broad shoulders feels as though it’ll leave bruises. when you break the kiss to breathe, he tries to take you all in. to memorize everything. he desperately needs a pen and paper right this moment so he could draw you as accurately as he can, lest his memory fails him later.

the automatic voice sounds again, and only you turn your attention to the entrance. slowly comes coriolanus snow, the district 12 girl’s mentor, and his eyes scan the arena before they land on yours. you nudge sejanus lightly to direct his gaze to his friend, but he wants more. he can’t leave now. he can’t leave you. not like this.

“it’s okay, sejanus. i’ll be okay. help from the outside, and we’ll see each other again in no time.” you whisper, a tiny bit unconvincingly, eyes glossy. “just take care of yourself, okay?”

sejanus’s lips quiver, and he too whispers. you don’t believe it’s because of the other tributes, but because if he were to speak normally, only a sob would come out.

“you are myself. please take care of me.” you glance down and nod at that, tasting the saltwater that came rushing down your cheek. he wipes the trail that settled along your face, and begrudgingly makes his way to the blond.

sejanus is motivated by the thought, the need, to get you out of there. no matter the methods he uses. no matter the consequences he faces. he has the resources to buy you more time, and he finds himself not above exploiting them.

[justwinginglife]

How Soshiro Hoshina Broke The Internet

Just a silly lil fic based off of a conversation I had with @ryescapades and @minasfwoopyponytail, thanks for indulging my goofy ideas! We love our precious baby Soshiro. Once again, mentions of mature content, but no explicit detail, we're here for a silly time not a sexy one.

“You’re 50 Shades of Stupid and this is your dumbest idea yet.” 

Hoshina grumbled and grumbled, but it didn’t stop Narumi from eagerly setting up the camera and chuckling to himself. “Hey, you lost the bet; this is your punishment, own up to it.”

If it had been just the two of them alone, he might’ve socked Narumi in the jaw. Might’ve declared the bet faulty and stomped off. Might’ve challenged him to another dare with double the stakes to distract Narumi and to avoid paying the price of his last lost challenge. 

But Okonogi was there as a witness, Captain Ashiro was there for moral support (she wanted to take pictures of this whole ordeal and claim it was for the good of the Defense Force), and you were there to make sure he didn’t storm off, with your big brown eyes that he fell victim to every time. 

If Hoshina even looked like he might bail, Narumi would call out to you, “Y/N! Looks like your man’s a big wimp. If you ever wanna know what a real man is like, my door’s always open,” and then Hoshina would stare him down, storms in his eyes, thunder in his throat, as he swore misfortune upon the Narumi line for the next 70 generations if he so much as breathed near you. And Narumi would laugh, knowing he had Hoshina right where he wanted him. 

It didn’t help that you were also curious to see this all play out, so whenever Hoshina would start to sulk, you’d dance your fingers through his hair and murmur against his ear, “But baby… I wanna see it too. Do you think, maybe, you could do it just for me? Please, ‘Shiro? I’ll love you eternally.”

So he begrudgingly put on the bunny ears. 

When Ashiro snapped a picture of him, Hoshina cursed her family name too. Then he threatened to tell Kafka every embarrassing story he knew about her until she put her phone away. But her hand hovered by her pocket as though she was just waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Narumi finally had everything set up the way he wanted it; all Hoshina had to do was dance. Apparently dancing was all the rage on TeekTook these days. 

Hoshina flipped Narumi off but when the music turned on, he danced as promised. And when Okonogi laughed so hard they had to redo the take, he made a mental note to curse her family line as well. 

Finally, the video came to its conclusion and his debt was paid. Hoshina collapsed on the ground, exhausted from the shame of it all. Narumi snickered, but you shooed him off, even bothering to kick the girls out of the room too. Then you knelt down on the floor in front of him and took his face in your hands. 

“See, all done, baby. That wasn’t so hard.” You murmured as you planted kisses over every square inch of his face. 

He accepted your kisses but he still pouted. “Easy for you to say. That was worse than going to battle.”

You nibbled on his ear and trailed kisses down his neck. “Aww, don’t say that, love. You looked so sexy dancing like that. I might be your number one fan.”

He yanked you closer to him. “Yeah? Keep saying things like that and I might just take you right here, in Narumi’s office.”

“It would serve him right, don’t you think? Besides, I think your number one fan deserves an autograph. Maybe you could write it out to me with your tongue? Hmm?” Your voice was dripping with innocence though your intentions were anything but. 

And when Narumi finally came back to his office to find the smell of sweat and sex stenching the air, to find his chair had been broken from exertion, to find his desk was sticky with slick, he cursed Hoshina and then cursed himself for not thinking up a more torturous punishment. 

Narumi’s displeasure continued when he awoke the next morning and discovered that Hoshina’s dancing video had gone viral, but not in the way that he’d wanted. Everyone was calling him the sexiest captain in the Defense Force. Narumi snapped his phone in half after reading all the comments in favor of Hoshina.

When you got your hands on this information, Hoshina should’ve run. You were far too devious not to use this to your advantage. But he fell victim to the curl of your lashes as they batted at him and the next thing he knew, you were setting up the camera for another video. 

“R-remind me why we’re doing this again?” He asked meekly as he watched you flit about, prepping the equipment. He could feel an impending sense of doom settling in, but you were so adorable that he found it impossible to resist you. He could only hope you’d go easy on him. 

“Baby, you can’t let your followers down.” You said matter-of-factly, still fiddling with the camera. “Think of this as boosting citizen morale.”

“Please, I don’t want to dance again,” He pleaded.

You took him in your arms and ran your hands up and down his back until he relaxed. “No more dancing, I promise. How about we just do a trend, okay?”

He sighed. “Do I have to?”

“I’ll let you try that position on me again, the one we almost broke Narumi’s desk with.”

He sat up straight. “Fine. Fine. Strap the mic to me. What are we doing?”

You handed him a script. “Just need you to say this and then we’re all done, easy peasy.”

He took the paper from you and peered at the words. His brows furrowed in confusion as he skimmed the page. “Okay, what does ‘very mindful, very demure’ mean and why am I saying it?”

Several videos later -he was unsure how you’d managed to coax multiple out of him when he’d only originally promised you one- his views had doubled and he’d acquired a fairly large fanbase, much to Narumi’s dismay. With every follower that he accumulated, you found yourself brewing more and more schemes. Just how much could you make him do? Just how much would he let you make him do?

It was too early to convince him to wear a maid outfit… but maybe if you convinced him to wear other things and his followers liked it, he’d eventually cave in. You’d always wanted to see him in a compression shirt and now that you’d been given this opportunity, you couldn’t waste it. You bought him one and presented it to him under the guise of wanting to use it in a “get ready with me” video.

When he first put on the shirt, you almost forgot about your goal of getting him into a maid uniform. In fact, you almost dropped the camera. But you got ahold of yourself, gripped the camera tight, and panned over every ripple of his muscles in slow motion. After views skyrocketed, you convinced him that he needed to do a “get ready with me” video every day.

Washing his face made the viewers go crazy, because he’d run his fingers through his hair to get it out of the way. Eating breakfast made the viewers go crazy, because he’d lick his lips. And of course, the viewers would go absolutely feral when he’d put on that damn compression shirt that by now all of them knew well. You knew how they felt. You were lucky you were hidden behind the camera so he couldn’t see just how much you were drooling, just how much you were enjoying yourself. How much you were enjoying him. 

And his damn intros killed you every time. It took all your willpower not to pounce on him because of how fucking adorable he was. 

“Hi guys. It’s me. Again. Don’t know how this is interesting to you all, but I’m back with another video, I guess?”

“Good morning, all. Turns out you really liked the last video. Not sure why, but I suppose here’s another.”

“Greetings. Um. I guess you’re getting ready with me… again?”

When he started to get weary of doing the same video over and over again, claiming that there was no way that people on the internet actually wanted to keep watching him do such mundane things everyday, you suggested doing a poll. Make his site more interactive. Ask the people what they want. 

The comment section blew up with requests for more compression shirts and his fans even sent him the money to buy a whole wardrobe full of them. So now he had compression shirts of every color and he was still unsure why. They were just shirts to him. 

But you convinced him to give the people what they wanted. You told him if anything, he could consider this as part of his job, because he was advertising the Defense Force. You could tell he only barely believed you when he reluctantly agreed to more videos. 

Eventually, he got camera shy and wanted you to be in videos with him. 

This worked out perfectly for you.

From the very first video you starred in with him, you had a maid uniform on. You thought the least you could do was get the idea in his head. He questioned it but you told him you were trying to draw the attention away from him so he could feel more comfortable on camera. He adored you for it. And he loved the way you looked - you knew because he would steal glances at you in between takes and sometimes even during takes- so he didn’t think too hard about it at the time.

Then you did more and more videos with him, all in the maid uniform, and when you’d worn out almost the entire catalog of TeekTok trends at your disposal, you finally proposed the idea of him wearing a maid uniform.

He turned bright red.

You almost kissed him for it.

“But w-why? No one wants to see that.” He squeaked out.

“Trust me, baby, the viewers will love it.”

The red traveled from his cheeks to his ears. “But w-why?” He repeated again.

“Because you’ll look so good, I promise.” You rubbed calming circles into his palm.

He bit his lip. “D-do I h-have to?”

You faked a pout. “I mean… you don’t have to. It’s just,” You sighed dramatically, “I’ve been wearing one this whole time to make you feel better about being on camera and now I’m getting a little shy… it would just make me so happy if you wore it with me.” You peered up at him with the same big, brown eyes that always ensnared him without fail. 

Then you got on your knees in front of him. 

He choked at the sight of you. 

You crawled in between his legs, nuzzling up against his thigh. “I just want to match you baby. I just want everyone to know we’re together and we love each other. Don’t you love me baby? Don’t you wanna match with me?”

He gulped. “I-I… I s-suppose if it would… if it would make you happy… I could maybe… do it. For you. Just the once.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’ll do it? I love you so much baby, I’ll be right back!” And then you procured for him the maid outfit that had been patiently waiting for him in your closet. He didn’t even dare to question how you’d retrieved it so fast. You were so sweet and innocent, he could hardly accuse you of masterminding this entire situation even though that was exactly what you’d done. 

When he put on the uniform and you saw him standing there, cheeks tinged with pink, thumbs twiddling nervously, dress fluttering from the fan, you couldn’t hold back anymore. He was too adorable. You kissed him. 

And then you pinned a mic to him, turned the camera on, and made history.

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites - Part 1

I will not apologize. I have been bothering my friend with this fic idea for so, so long..

You clocked the group of men as the entered the club. Clock in the back had shown just after ten PM when you popped back there for a bottle. They settled into seats at an empty table, the four of them giving a wide berth of elbow room between themselves and their neighbor. None of them looked at River who commanded the stage. You didn’t think much of it, lots of men came here to ‘do business’ such as it was.

You delivered the bottle to a private room, letting Strawberry handle the client service. You were functioning as the manager tonight despite being scheduled for a dancers shift. No one else had approached the now occupied table. You strode up, perking up your tits just so.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?” Your voice came out sultry but still within the customer service range.

You look at them from left to right, clean cut guy, dark hair with a well trimmed beard.

“Top shelf whiskey, neat.”

You look to the next man, stubble warm brown skin tone.

“Beer, whatever is on tap.”

Next man wore a ski mask decorated with a human skull. You don’t blink, wasn’t even the worst thing you had seen tonight.

“Black Russian.”

You turn to the last man. It had been a long time since you saw a face that looked like yours. The mohawk hadn’t been there the last time.

“Get the fuck out.”

“What!?” Your half brother Johnny jumped up from his seat. “Why me! I haven’t donne anything!”

You reel back, struck by his words. He didn’t recognize you. Of course, the fucker walked out on you years ago and couldn’t be bothered to remember you now.

“Really,” you dragged the word out, “Johnny McTavish hasn’t done anything to his baby sister?”

His jaw dropped, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he took in your barely covered, well, everything.

“Bunny?” your childhood nickname comes out as a broken whisper. Like he has anything to be broken up over.

“Final warning, get out or get thrown out. Your friends too for arguing.” You shift your chin their direction.

The masked man stands, pulls out his wallet and drops a couple bills on the table before pushing Johnny forward.

“Come on Soap, more places we can drink tonight.” His voice rumbled just loud enough to carry over the music in the space.

The other two stand, more money dropped on the table. Beard gives you a quiet ‘ma’am’ as he passes. Stubble nods when he catches your eye. They all follow Mask out the door. He keeps a hand on Johnny as if to remind him that he can be carried. Bastard was big enough to make it work.

You see Barry the security guard glance between you and the men who just left. You gather up the cash on the table and fold it over in your hand as you walk towards him.

“Barry I just need ten minutes okay? I just had a…“ you search for the right word to express seeing your brother who you haven’t seen in almost fifteen years at a stripper bar. You don’t find a word for it. “Weird interaction and need to clear my head. Can you make rounds on all the girls? Misty and Summer should be finishing up their dances soon.”

“Course, I’ll take care of it. Just let me know if you need anything else dove.” Barry nodded and set about to keep the girls safe.

This club was a bit unusual in the area, they had a firm drink, no touch policy. Anyone wanting to touch a girl, even to fix the strap on her heels had to have a wristband that barred them from alcohol. Not that they had many takers for those but enough recovered alcoholics had started to talk that the club had become a decent spot to hang after a meeting.

You slip into the dressing room, taking a seat on a bench as you count out the cash. You count it again, and again before you believe it. Eight hundred dollars. Three men who you kicked out for coming in with your brother left an eight hundred dollar tip. They didn’t even get their drinks!

“What the fuck just happened?” you whisper to the room.

Part 2

Bunny Masterlist | Masterlist

[woewriting]

wednesday addams is good at everything.

──

The sun was setting in the distant horizon, the orangish color painting the sky, the dim lights automatically turning on as the room became darker, all you could see was the silhouette of the girl sat in her chair, rapidly typing on her writing machine. Watching Wednesday work on her novel always left you mesmerized, she wasn’t allowed to make a single mistake as the antique machine didn’t have an erase button and the writer refused to stain the paper. She was brilliant.

“You’re good at fencing, botany, writing, and I’m sure you’re great at killing people too, but…” You stop, unsure if you should proceed with your, stupidly and terribly planned, plan.

“But?”

“But I doubt that you’re good at kissing.”

Wednesday’s hand stopped typing as she turned her face to the right, her side profile illuminated by the fairy lights that, somehow, you convinced her to hang over her working desk. The perfectly drawn nose, the plump lips, and God, her jawline! So sharp that you’ve always wanted to run your finger over the bone to see if it would cut.

The girl kept her eyes on the wall, her brain working in what her next step to this, obvious, teasing should be. You could almost see the engines twisting inside her skull.

The moment she stood up, her eyes were fixed on your face, jaw tensed up, hands in fists. It was like she was ready to throw a punch at you, it wouldn’t be the first time… but when she took a step closer and you closed your eyes, waiting for the collision, her fingers pulled you by the collar of your shirt until you felt her hot breath against your lips.

“I’m good at everything.” Her voice was serious.

Tilting your chin up, a small smirk tugged the corner of your lips. Eyes slowly opening, meeting hers.

“Why don’t you prove me wrong then, Addams?”

Wednesday loosened the grip on your shirt, the stretched fabric showing your collarbones, a few moles adorning the skin. For a second, in an intrusive thought, the brunette wanted to count each one that covered your body. She had seen a few whenever you wore sleeveless shirts or shorts, they decorated your skin like stars in the night sky, but there was one she had never seen before and, now, got her full attention and became her favorite, a small mole near the vale of your breasts.

She wanted to touch, her hand reaching down to invade the ruined fabric in a curious act, but she stopped midway when she felt the deep breath you took, she could see goosebumps all over your chest with the sudden proximity. You had been next to each other before, but not like this. Not with her eyes peeking through your shirt, her plump lips taking all your attention, so close to yours.

Wednesday was so kissable, and she didn’t even know that.

Not with her hands on your neck as she looked up, big brown eyes staring at your soul. She took a deep breath, swallowing the air to her lungs almost as if it was hurting. And when she closed the gap between you two in a bruising kiss, it felt like a burning knife pierced her throat.

Her nails dug the back of your neck, her teeth biting your lower lip. You knew Wednesday wasn’t gentle, but this was a whole new level. Wrapping your hands on her thin waist, you finally pulled her impossibly closer.

Her tongue licked yours deliciously before sucking hard on it, a struggled sound escaping you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips before she kissed you again, the ragged, unsteady breathing making your lungs burn, begging for air. Pulling back, your chest rose and fell aggressively, your lips lingering over hers, almost touching, uneven breathing colliding with your face.

Before you could kiss her again, her hand pressed down to your chest, pushing you away. Your knees buckled against the bed frame, and you awkwardly fell onto the mattress.

Wednesday was blushed, eyes half open and red, swollen lips. She looked like a mess, and you’re sure you look even worse, you could feel the burning feeling on every centimeter of your body, your hair all over your face.

“Good enough for you?”