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screampied · 1 year ago

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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.

wc. 7.4k

warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.

dbf! masterlist

“who’s he?”

a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.

“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”

“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”

you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”

“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”

“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.

that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.

nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.

of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.

apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.

your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.

you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.

you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.

stupid, maybe…

it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.

there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.

you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?

apparently, this guy.

toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.

it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.

to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.

“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.

your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.

the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.

“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…

returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”

you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”

“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”

you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”

“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”

“huh?”

“you heard me, girl.”

the banter…

he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.

you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”

“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”

he was so annoying, entirely so.

it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.

toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.

but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…

to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.

intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.

parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.

speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.

the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.

steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”

your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.

throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.

“hey. is it anymore detergen—”

toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”

you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”

toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”

“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”

you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”

“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”

this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.

you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.

“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”

“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”

this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.

you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”

“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”

“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”

he simpers. “pretty please.”

“……”

again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.

“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.

“that’s a good girl.”

his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.

desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.

“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”

“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.

he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”

“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”

“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”

and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.

without a doubt, he was a messy eater.

just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.

you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.

he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.

the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.

“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”

“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”

“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.

toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.

he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.

so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.

cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”

“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”

he was so mean.

such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.

“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”

you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.

it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.

your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.

“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”

“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.

he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.

“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”

“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”

“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”

you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”

“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.

while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.

you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.

running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.

“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.

“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”

your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.

“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”

“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”

“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”

“okay honey, if you say so.”

toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.

you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.

the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”

“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”

“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”

you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.

a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.

“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.

ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.

toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.

his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.

he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”

“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”

“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”

you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.

you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”

his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.

he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”

you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.

that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.

toji was a patient man, but only for so long.

the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”

toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.

he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.

he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.

slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.

he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.

albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.

momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.

“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”

it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”

“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”

to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.

toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.

he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.

toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.

entirely so, it was still risky.

your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.

like four hours ago . .

he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.

oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.

your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.

you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.

toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.

“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.

your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”

“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.

“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”

toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”

you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”

your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.

dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”

“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”

you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.

toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.

again…

it was probably the umpteenth time.

while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.

it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.

“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.

while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.

a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #cw sex mention #jjk x reader smut

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luvbabydoll · 25 days ago

Text

— under their noses — chapter two

a series made by © luvbabydoll

the briefing

soap slammed his hands on the table. “we need a plan.”

across from him, gaz nodded solemnly. “a proper one. can’t keep runnin’ around like headless chickens.”

ghost, arms crossed, sighed. “this is the dumbest shit I’ve ever been a part of.”

price just pinched the bridge of his nose. “why am I here?”

because obviously, this had escalated.

after weeks of failed covert testing, the boys had finally accepted that their efforts weren’t enough. they needed a strategy. a mission.

and so, they had gathered in the barracks for what soap had officially titled “operation angel.”

gaz pulled out a whiteboard. “alright, lads. let’s break this down.”

he uncapped a marker and wrote PHASE ONE: in big, blocky letters.

“step one: we confirm the voice.”

soap nodded. “already tried that, didn’t work. but we have confirmed she calls people sweetheart.”

ghost grumbled, “that’s hardly proof.”

“yeah, yeah, which is why we move on to—” gaz drew an arrow. “step two: spot the mannerisms.”

soap leaned back in his chair. “already got a list going.” he tapped a fucking notebook on the table. “lip biting. head tilting. that little—y’know—that thing she does with her hands when she’s thinking?”

gaz snapped his fingers. “yes. the wrist tapping.”

ghost stared. “you lot are fucking freaks.”

price exhaled slowly. “i cannot believe i’m listening to this.”

but the boys ignored them, too deep in the mission.

gaz turned back to the board. “step three: test her reactions.”

soap grinned. “push her a little. see if she slips up.”

ghost raised a brow. “and how, exactly, do you plan to do that?”

soap just smirked. “oh, i’ve got ideas.”

the execution — attempt #1

they were not subtle.

and the worst part?

you noticed.

it started small.

soap, lingering in the med bay for no reason, watching you like a hawk.

gaz, conveniently bringing up onlyfans in casual conversation.

ghost, lurking in doorways like a fucking cryptid, staring.

and price?

price was just done with this entire situation.

“why are you still in here?” you finally asked soap, who was sitting on the exam table, legs swinging.

“dunno.” he kicked his feet. “maybe i just like your company.”

you narrowed your eyes.

then, slowly, “…are you okay?”

soap nodded. “yeah. you could say I’m in pretty good hands.”

there was a beat.

soap just grinned.

you tilted your head. “...alright, out.”

soap groaned. “damn it.”

the execution — #2

the second attempt was even less subtle.

gaz, sitting next to you in the mess hall, sighed dramatically.

“y’know what I could really go for?” he mused.

you looked up. “what?”

gaz stretched leisurely. “a nice, soft-voiced woman tellin’ me i’ve been workin’ too hard. maybe calling me love.”

you blinked.

ghost audibly sighed.

soap hissed at him. “too much.”

gaz winced. “shit, yeah, that was too much.”

you just stared at them.

“...you guys are acting really weird.”

the execution — #3

downright pathetic.

soap, leaning against the med bay door, casually went:

“hey, what’s your opinion on side gigs?”

you didn’t even look up.

“depends.”

soap nodded. “cool, cool. ever done any? like... online stuff?”

you froze.

not much. just a flicker.

but the men saw it.

ghost, across the room, zeroed in on you.

soap grinned widely. “huh. that’s funny, because i swear i’ve seen—”

you turned around, smiling sweetly. “soap?

soap blinked. “yeah?”

you handed him a giant fucking needle.

“hold this.”

soap immediately backed away. “r-right, y’know what? forget I said anything.”

the debrief

the boys sat in the barracks, defeated.

soap groaned. “she knows.”

gaz exhaled. “oh she definitely knows.”

ghost just leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “and yet, we still don’t have proof.”

price sighed. “i hope you idiots realize how stupid this is.”

soap threw his hands up. “we can’t just ask her!”

price gave him a look. “why the hell not?”

silence.

gaz rubbed the back of his neck. “i mean… it’d be weird.”

soap nodded. “yeah. like, ‘hey, we’ve all been following your account for months, any chance that’s you?’”

price rolled his eyes. “christ. you lot are pathetic.”

but the worst part?

the absolute worst part?

despite all their efforts—despite the failed plan, the awkward encounters, the hours spent investigating—

they were still no closer to confirming it.

and you?

you were having the time of your life watching them struggle.

#luvbabydoll ‧₊˚ ⋅#john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x you #tf 141 x reader #tf141 smut #cod x reader #cod x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost smut #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader

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earlgreylatte · 20 days ago

Text

Variant Madness

You thought he was your Mark.

Omni Mark and Shiesty Mark 2V1 you.

Breathing in, you savour the fresh air of the mountain trail you find yourself on. You had visited years ago, but you decided to come again to enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could find a cool rock for Mark and Oliver, too.

You hope things are peaceful for them too, but even if there is another threat that needs to be taken care of, you’re sure Mark would be able to come find you easily enough.

You feel a bit pathetic that you already miss him, even though you’re going to see him in a couple of hours. You suddenly find yourself understanding Debbie’s usual amusement when she watched you two. You really acted like a lovesick puppy, sometimes.

Feeling your phone buzz from your pocket, you fumble for a second as you’re broken from your thoughts, rooting through your jacket to find it. Just as your fingers begin to pull it out a sudden rush of air hits you from behind, your jacket’s hood suddenly pushed over your head as you drop your phone onto the soil as dirt is kicked up into the air.

You whip around, to find…Mark? He was still wearing his black and blue suit, but his entire head was now covered, making him look a little intimidating, with his mouth and hair covered.

He stares at you wordlessly.

“Were you in that much of a rush to show me your new costume? I mean, you just got a new one from Art just a couple of months ago,” you speak up, rubbing the dirt out of your eyes, “Honestly, you could have caused a dirt storm or something…”

He breathes out your name.

You tilt your head, “Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are Debbie and Oliver okay—!?”

Your worrying is cut off when within an instant he has you crushed to his chest, arms locked around you as he buried his head against your neck.

“I just really missed you,” he whispers.

Looks like he’s a lovesick puppy, too.

You can’t hold back a dopey smile, “I missed you too.”

You jolt in his arms when you realize your phone is still vibrating; a redial, so possibly urgent.

“Mark, my phone—“

You’re interrupted again when he pivots you so your back hits a nearby tree, his mask rolled up enough to reveal his mouth which soon presses against yours.

Anything you wanted to say is forgotten as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groans into your mouth as his hands plant themselves to your waist as he places a knee in between your legs.

He moves from your lips to your neck, pressing adoring kisses against your pulse point before helping you shrug off your jacket, letting it to the ground as his hands slide under your shirt, gloved fingers brushing against your ribcage.

“Mark,” you breathe, heart swelling at the sweet intimacy he was more than willing to give you.

Your attention is broken again when you notice your phone is still ringing, your gaze sliding from the man nestled against you to the forest floor where your phone laid.

Your body stiffens.

The caller ID illuminating your phone was one you could recognize even from afar just from the amount of heart emojis you set for…your boyfriend.

The boyfriend that was currently with you.

Whose grip on you begins to tighten as your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

You shakily bring up your hands to hook your fingers beneath his mask, slowly pulling it up as he remains as still as a statue. The face is familiar, if not a little more worn, but the brown eyes you held so dear were now filled with a sadness deep enough to drown you.

This wasn’t your Mark.

Mark was definitely lucky he was attractive, you decide.

If he wasn’t, you definitely wouldn’t have tolerated the sheer annoyance his two variants were causing you.

“Were you a virgin or something until now? Because you fuck like a noob,” A Mark with a wild rag mask laughed as the one that was dressed like Omni Man 2.0 pounded into you, your back pressed against an alleyway wall, the area long deserted from the destruction the two men unleashed on the city.

“I doubt you even know what you’re talking about, with how you talk like a preteen boy,” The red and white Mark huffs, tone passive enough that you’d think he didn’t care about his copy’s words if not for his pace speeding up and his thrusts going deeper and deeper until your voice reaches a new octave.

The other Mark scoffs, “Well, not that she minds, already looks cockdrunk off your tiny dick. Hey, sweetheart, bet I can take you to heaven and back with one stroke.”

“I will kill you.” The Mark fucking into you, tightens his grip, turning to death stare the now laughing Invincible.

“Aww, is daddy mad? Scared she’s going to want to run away with me once I slip my dick in her?”

You can’t believe you have to orgasm while listening to their dumbass argument…

“Hey, if you’re going to hog her pussy, at least move her so I can put that mouth to use—“

Annoying people really shouldn’t be so hot.

The invincible tag is so good rn, I’m actually in tears…

Decided to do a 2in1 special because people really want me to make a part two of that other variant post…it will come…

Masterlist

#invincible x reader #invincible imagine #mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere invincible #invincible variants #full mask mark #omni mark #shiesty mark #cowboy mark #yandere x reader #afab reader #invincible #full mask mark is yandere #the other two are just obnoxious and competitive

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dilf-docs · 20 days ago

Text

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue.

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction.

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat.

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

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cowgirlvi · 29 days ago

Text

mdni. unhygienic loser vi. sub virgin vi. mean fem-reader. degradation. semi-public sex. masturbation. size kink. based off this ask.

vi masterlist

wc; 1,034

⠀✦⠀loser!vi who is a disgusting, pathetic virgin—blowing half of her paycheck on porn subscriptions every month, chasing the illusion of intimacy while rotting away in her dirty, cum-stained bedsheets. she’ll masturbate for hours upon hours in the sanctuary of her bedroom, wasting the day away while she fucks herself senseless.

⠀✦⠀sometimes she fucks the handle of her hairbrush inside her pussy, but it’s never enough—not as big as the dildos her favorite cam girls are riding. she wants to be fucked until she loses all inhibitions, wants someone to come and destroy her little hole too. poor baby is so desperate for it; she’ll unintentionally edge herself for hours until she orgasms around her hairbrush, but she’s never fully satisfied. and her hairbrush is always drenched and disgusting by the time she’s finished—wiping old, dried flakes of cum onto her bedsheets.

⠀✦⠀loser!vi who likes to watch pornos of girls with grotesquely large, fake tits bouncing on monster-dildos, splitting their pussies open until their holes can no longer close. it’s the sleaziest genre of porn out there—made specifically for disgusting, perverted, incel men to jack-off to in their stale apartments. vi always feels dirty after watching those videos, because she doesn’t want to be like those men… but she can’t bring herself to stop.

⠀✦⠀after she makes herself squirt for the first time, she lays a beach towel on her bed so she can do it again and again. that towel has definitely seen better days—and maybe it’s because she’s sentimental or something, but she reuses the same dirty, old, crinkly towel from that day forward. every time she fingers her little hole until she squirts, her juices completely flood the sad beach towel, soaking through the ruined fabric until she soils her bedsheets too. and she just lays there afterwards, panting, in an outline of her own sweat.

⠀✦⠀loser!vi whose hairbrush and cumrag start smelling weird and sour very quickly, but she doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal yet. she does her laundry at least once a month, so she should be okay using the same towel for a couple more weeks, right?

⠀✦⠀and it’s incredibly inconvenient, the way her sensitive, big clit catches on the seam of her pants, even when she only moves the slightest bit. it’s particularly annoying while she’s at work, when she can feel large globs of cum leak out of her hole, drenching her underwear. but it’s fine—she can still manage to wear the same pair for another three days, at least.

⠀✦⠀when you come along as a new hire at her job, all sugary sweet and warm smiles, vi already knows she wants to lose her virginity to you—wants you to shove one of those huge, dragon-style dildos inside her pussy until she cries, cooing at her tenderly. so, she watches you when she should be working; committing the shape of your ass to her memory, then running off to the bathroom so she can play with her clit during her lunch hour. if she’s lucky, she’s able to make herself come twice before having to return to her cubicle—sitting in her sodden underwear for the rest of the day.

⠀✦⠀with as clumsy as she is, you catch her in the act one day, shoving your way into the stall while her pants are still around her ankles. vi is mortified, her pussy lips on display, caught jerking off her big clit between her thumb and index finger. and you have the gall to laugh at her. you—the sweet, sunny new-hire with an innocent demeanor—are snickering at her meanly, mocking her sordid act, saying such cruel things to her:

”no wonder you always smell funny. it’s ‘cause you don’t wash the dirty cum off your fingers.”

”you’re disgusting, vi. you know that right?”

”slutty fucking pussy. can’t even wait until you get home, huh?”

⠀✦⠀vi is like a dog caught with its tail between her legs. she interrupts your dirty, mocking, motorboat mouth, sheepishly asking you to leave while trying to pull her pants back up. only, you start laughing again, staring at her engorged, glistening clit, telling her how much of a loser she is, asking her if she’s always been such a desperate slut. her thighs are rubbing together and she doesn’t even realize it, not until she hears a loud, embarrassing schlick.

⠀✦⠀to vi’s surprise, you offer to help her, saying, “you’re too dumb to take care of such a needy pussy by yourself,” and vi keens, crowding into your space eagerly, making it painfully obvious what a pathetic, needy virgin she is. so, you dip the tip of your fingers inside her hole, lubricating two digits, and then teasingly swipe at her clit. it’s cute, the way she shivers and yelps at the slightest touch against her nub.

you can smell her pussy from here, the sour odor quickly filling the bathroom stall the more her juices leak from her hole. the scent is pungent, bordering on gross and foul, but something about how disgusting and pitiful vi is really gets you going, so you don’t mind—actually, you like it.

”fuck, fuck, you’re so—mmphh, mean!” she whimpers, humping against your fingers.

despite her words, vi feels the telltale fluttering in her core, the coil of heat that has been building in her cunt all day and spiked when she got caught. but, to her sheer horror and reluctant ecstasy, vi comes undone. her climax hits like a freight train, so intense and powerful that she doubles over, gripping onto your arm for comfort—the one that’s in between her legs, still flicking against her clit.

“aaughnn—! please, please, holy shit!”

her hips buck and jerk wildly as if she’s possessed by some unseen force. she’s wailing, the sound raw and primal, and then she abruptly squirts against your fingers, soaking both hers and your own work attire. through the haze of her orgasm, vi dimly registers the look of perverse fascination in your eyes, before collapsing into your chest.

you’re snickering at her again, asking, “what was that, ten seconds?” but she doesn’t hear you, ears full of static, just breathing against your neck.

what a sad little loser.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0 @marieeeluvsyou @mxchi-mxxn @el-amor-que-tu-quieres @jinxvex @teddybearbutch28 @stupendousbananasharkcop @nahcala @ellieslob @idontwannabehereatm @rhian88 @kyur1jinx @absfemme @blackdykegirlblogger @thatgrlnany @imfckngfantastic @addison12459 @f3ralpuppyg1rl @prettyprincess19 @saphhvi @vixxxxxxxen @jinxedbambi @dreamyraincloud @just4jinx @caninecutiez

(3/2/25)

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neonln4 · 5 months ago

Text

i found a good boy, and he's on my side | lando norris smau

lando norris x reader | a little bit of best friend!oscar

summary: when y/n's ex writes a messy song about her, fans push for lando to break up with her (he doesn't even consider it)

fc: sabrina carpenter

kind of a part 2 to what a coincidence, but you don't have to read part 1 for this to make sense

warnings: non-existent angst, lando very much in love with y/n, very brief mention of cheating (not lando), maybe some typos

note: y/e = your ex

yourex

liked by user1 and 593,827 others

yourex Biting My Tongue out tonight

Finally sharing my truth

View all 1,384 comments

user1 WE LOVE YOU Y/E

user2 ready for the tea 🍿

ynfan2 PLEASE LEAVE Y/N ALONE I BEG WE'RE OVER YOU

ynfan1 "sharing my truth" OHHHH BROTHER

user3 the y/n fans getting nervous

ynfan2 not nervous, sick of his lies

user2 perhaps y/n isn't as perfect as you think

user4 anyone else just here for the music

user5 @ yourusername YOU ARE SO OVER

♡

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff, and 1,138,827 others

yourusername leng

View all 5,394 comments

ynfan2 UNBOTHERED QUEEN

user2 is she just pretending her ex didn't drop a shady song about her

user6 lando still in the likes ... this is so sad

yourbff your reminder to not wear the red top this weekend

yourusername you've seen my outfits already TRUST there's no red in sight

landonorris that's my girl

ynfan1 MOTHER IS GOING TO SILVERSTONE

user4 how has lando not dumped you yet

user5 you really don't deserve lando

user3 HAS LANDO HEARD THE SONG YET? DUMP HER!!!

ynfan3 what's with all the loser hate comments

landonorris my girlfriend is sooooo leng now come give me a kiss

yourusername calm down

yourusername on my way tho

♡

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 983,492

landonorris a little summer fun

View all 1,493 comments

user1 JEALOUS

yourusername who's the baddie

landonorris that's my girlfriend mate back off

ynfan2 WHY ARE THEY LIKE THIS

user3 waiting for the dumping...

user4 crazy that they're still together

user8 i think some of y'all are a bit dramatic, the song wasn't even that bad and it's just his perspective

ynfan3 A LANDO FAN WITH A BRAIN

yourbff last pic i want her baddddd

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yourbff WAIT I TAKE IT BACK

ynfan2 QUEEN Y/BFF FINALLY APPROVING OF ONE OF Y/N'S MEN

oscarpiastri you stole my best friend

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♡

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,293,283 others

yourusername is this thing on? 🎤

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ynfan1 MOTHER IN THE STUDIO!!!!!

ynfan2 the last pic has me crying 😭😭 i just know she's about to be a menace

user2 if she's actually making a response song that's kinda pathetic

user3 right? her fans all say y/e is using her for fame but she's also doing it

yourbff let me hear it first

oscarpiastri i better get the link first

landonorris ignore both of them, i get first dibs

user1 THE DRAMA if she's making a response song lando better get out of there quick before he's her next victim

user4 WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

ynfan3 all these haters camping on y/n's post omg she's so famous

ynfan4 WE LOVE YOU Y/N IGNORE THE LOSERS

♡

yourusername

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yourusername my turn🩷

surprise! planned to keep these in the vault, but i guess things change. 'vicious' and 'eternal sunshine' live performances out now on youtube! studio version out friday 💋

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landonorris proud of you love 🤍

yourusername 🧡🧡🧡

ynfan2 OH MY GOD NO WAYYYYYYY

ynfan3 "my turn🩷" THAT'S MOTHERRRRRRRRR

ynfan1 love lando supporting her through it all that's a good man

ynfan4 SHE SPILLED Y/E IS SO DONE

yourbff i love you so much!!!

yourusername love you!!

user3 these songs are really good ... sorry for hating before

user1 some of y'all switching up in the comments, she could be lying!!

ynfan5 perhaps i misinterpreted the lyrics, but did y/e CHEAT ON HER???

ynfan3 pretty sure 👀

♡

yourusername

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yourusername it doesn't get, doesn't get better than this 🧡

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yourbff LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH

ynfan4 THESE HAVE TO BE LYRICS

ynfan3 more lover girl music coming soon LET'S GOOOOOOO

ynfan2 y/n writing her two shady songs about y/e then going back to writing cheesy love songs for lando we love to see it

landonorris how i obsessively adore you 🤍

ynfan2 y'all they're quoting future lyrics right in front of our faces i just know it

user3 it's not looking like a break up any time soon

oscarpiastri answer my texts

yourusername sorry been busy 🤭

oscarpiastri disgusting

yourusername NOT LIKE THAT.

ynfan5 Y/NLANDO WILL ALWAYS PROSPER

♡

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 1,028,832 others

landonorris we are never breaking up btw

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ynfan2 LMAOOOOOO

yourbff i'll have to break all of your bones if you ever hurt her

landonorris the scary thing is that i actually believe that you would

oscarpiastri hurt her and your life is over

landonorris DAMN DID Y'ALL READ THE CAPTION OR NO

user3 they're kinda growing on me y'all ...

ynfan4 everyone say we love you mom and dad

user4 worst news of my life

user2 i'm gonna be forced to like her this is terrible

yourusername thank god

landonorris if you leave me i think that i just might lose it completely

yourusername don't ever quote my songs at me again

#lando norris #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris au #lando x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando x you #lando x y/n #lando norris insta au

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artficlly · 7 days ago

Text

lessons in lovemaking [part two]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, blindfolding, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, clothed ejaculation, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, reader is lowkey depressed, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: hey guys, i'm literally so nervous posting this... it's been sitting in my drafts for like a month now and i finally worked up the courage to post after spending a couple hours editing :( i'm literally scheduling this to post at like 3am my time so i'm not awake when it goes live i'm so anxious bahaha. the start of this part is a bit slow, pls hold on because theres some light smut and angst at the end. i have plans for further parts that'll look more into the other avengers finding out and the development between bucky and readers relationship and their shared healing. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

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It was only on rare occasions that the full team of Avengers (and co.) were in the same room. A momentous historical moment, in fact, normally reserved for two particular occasions:

The world was ending (in some gloriously diabolical way that usually involved aliens, interdimensional warlords, or some ancient, forgotten god with a vendetta) or

Tony Stark was throwing another one of his famously exclusive penthouse parties (which, despite being ‘exclusive,’ still managed to include half of New York—most of whom showed up just to gawk at the Avengers like a travelling circus act sent to entertain them personally.)

Today, it seemed, was neither of those occasions. Thor and the rest of the Asgardians—Bruce Banner included, oddly enough—were busy rebuilding after the destruction of Asgard. Wanda and Vision were off playing happy family elsewhere, and Clint was busy with his own quickly expanding family. The others, agents, specialists, the people whose names you never bothered to remember, were preoccupied with their own missions. Which left you here, filed neatly into the elusive extra category. Not quite an Avenger. Too valuable to be let loose, too unpredictable to be fully trusted.

You leant back in your chair, only half-listening to the conversation beside you. The skin around your thumbnail was raw. You picked at it absentmindedly, peeling back the edge where it had already started to flake, a sting flaring along the nail. You were thinking—too much, maybe—so you let them talk, let yourself disappear as they debated which bar had the strongest drinks and the least pathetic men.

The three of you were early. By some miracle, morning training had ended ahead of schedule. Natasha had wiped the floor with you, to the point where it probably would’ve been more productive to stay on the mat rather than waste your energy hauling yourself back up.

“What do you think?” It took you a second to realise Yelena was talking to you, elbows propped on the table, chin resting in her hand. She was watching you expectantly, sharp eyes narrowed.

You didn’t look up. “I’m not coming.”

She sighed dramatically. “You never hang out with us.” She leant back in her chair with an exaggerated huff, muttering under her breath, “So mysterious and cool. You think you’re better than us?”

Natasha watched on amused, the redhead poised as always. “She doesn’t want to drink in front of us in case she spills her secrets.”

You scoffed. “What secrets?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha leant forward, watching you a little too closely now, like she was gauging your reaction. “How about how that mission went with Barnes?”

Ever since the gala mission, the two had been trying to get you alone, a few drinks in, hoping for something—a slip, an offhanded remark, anything that would confirm whatever hunches they had. You knew what they were fishing for. They weren’t subtle.

You just weren’t playing.

Neither you nor Bucky had said a word about it.

That, apparently, was suspicious.

“She is right, you know. Neither of you will say a word about it. I’m beginning to think something happened—” Yelena cut over her sister with a grin.

“Nothing happened,” you interrupted smoothly, finally lifting your eyes from the wreckage of your thumbnail. “You keep asking, but you’re not going to uncover some dirty secret. Sorry to disappoint."

“Then why the silence? No one would care if you fucked him, you could just plead innocence, overcome by playing the perfect, doting wife—”

You shot her a look, one withering enough to turn bone to dust and ego to rubble.

“I mean… maybe people would care, but I wouldn’t judge you! Super soldier, metal arm… so hot, or whatever.” Yelena prattled on, and you ignored her, exhaling through your nose.

"I think he’s just mortified that people assume something did happen. He’s got enough brooding energy as it is." You muttered.

“I just don’t believe nothing happened, trapped in that hotel room together for a week. Apparently, you were convincing enough to keep the targets off your scent, and we all know Barnes’ acting is as stiff as a cadaver on ice—”

Your face twisted into a look of exasperation before you could control yourself, straightening in your seat. “God, you two really are like vultures, picking around for the slightest bit of gossip—”

“Wow, defensive—”

“Isn’t that the joy in life? Digging for gossip?” Natasha cut back in with a sharp smirk.

“You two are insufferable!” You interrupted, slapping your palms onto your thighs. "I think I’ll keep my secrets. I’ll leave the both of you to continue plotting this fantastical mystery you’ve created in your minds—”

“It’s only fun because you get so worked up about it,” Natasha cut back with a grin you could only describe as predatory. “Plus, I do love watching Rogers squirm listening to all the theories."

“You know,” Yelena mused, swirling the thought around before letting it slip, “I don’t think Steve is as innocent as we think he is. I’m pretty sure I heard him and Sharon—”

She cut herself off just as the door swung open, and the rest of the team filtered in.

You schooled your reaction, easily slipping back into the picture of nonchalance. Bucky’s blue eyes flickered towards yours for a split second before darting away. It had been two weeks since your first ‘lesson’. Two weeks of carefully measured distance, of subtle glances that never lasted too long, of conversations that stayed just professional enough to not raise questions.

Bucky had been doing well—shockingly well, actually. He was receptive to your touch, followed your guidance with careful precision, and was beginning to trust you, bit by bit. You hadn’t gone much further than heated make-out sessions that usually ended with him finishing in his pants, but you weren’t in a rush. You were still feeling out his comfort zones, making sure he never felt cornered or overwhelmed. There wasn’t exactly a handbook for this kind of arrangement.

You slumped in your seat even further, shaking off the feeling. It was fine. No one knew.

Still, the way Bucky avoided looking in your direction made something prickle under your skin.

You were certain the super soldier would combust on the spot if any of his coworkers caught wind of what the two of you had been up to. Hell, he turned red enough just having you perched in his lap during lessons, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. And yet, during meetings, training, or any moment the two of you were forced into the same orbit, you couldn’t help but wonder—did he think about those moments? Did his mind drift back to the ghost of your touch the same way yours did?

You weren’t usually the sentimental type. Nostalgia was a luxury, a foolish indulgence you had long since trained yourself out of. But there was something about him—his quiet hesitance, his wary but willing surrender—that stuck with you. It was a service, nothing more. A transaction in which you gained no tangible benefit, so why did you linger on it? Why did the thought of his gaze meeting yours send a sharp thrill through your chest? Was it because he treated you like a person instead of a tool? Because he understood pieces of you no one else even tried to?

He wasn’t like the others. Never cruel, never greedy. He never reached for more than you offered, never treated you like something to be taken. Maybe that was why you kept coming back. Maybe, for once, you liked the control. Liked the feeling of choosing, of being wanted on your own terms. Of knowing that, for once, you weren’t a marionette dancing on someone else’s strings.

You swallowed the thought down and let your gaze flicker to him. Bucky sat curled in on himself, as if trying to shrink into nothing despite the broadness of his frame. He looked like a wounded animal—no, worse. He looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened, his hair unwashed and slightly greasy at the roots. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t taking care of himself. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure that out.

He stared blankly at the grain of the wooden table, shoulders hunched between Steve and Sam, who were deep in conversation about something you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on. And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, that quiet, hollow stillness of his sat uneasily in your chest.

You had… concerns for Bucky after what he had confessed to you. But you weren’t sure what to do with those concerns. Or those confessions. You held them close to your chest, unwilling to betray his trust, but understanding instead. You knew it was probably irresponsible of you to sit on them, but you didn’t want to overstep. Besides, Steve and Sam didn’t know you. You’d had maybe three conversations with each of them, most of them mission-related. To them, you were just Natasha and Yelena’s friend—Red Room collateral. You weren’t social, you weren’t a part of their circle, and you sure as hell weren’t someone they trusted.

And if they knew about your arrangement with Bucky… well, you didn’t want to think about what conclusions they’d draw—

“Hi!”

The sudden, chirpy voice nearly startled you out of your seat.

Kate Bishop had arrived—loud, bright, and effortlessly excitable, like a golden retriever in human form. She had that kind of energy that made you suspicious. No one was that happy all the time. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, messy strands framing her face. She was dressed in casual, slightly dishevelled layers, looking like she had just come from sparring but didn’t have the same dead-in-the-eyes exhaustion you did after a training session.

“I’m Kate!” she announced, beaming at you like you were about to be best friends. She pushed her hand out. “Kate Bishop.”

You blinked at her, ignoring her outstretched offer. “I know.”

Her grin didn’t waver, and she coolly withdrew her hand.

“You’re Clint and Yelena’s pet project.” You spoke again, your tone perhaps a little more hostile than necessary.

“It’s apprentice, actually.” Yelena cut in before Kate could argue. “You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Stark has an apprentice, so why are you always giving me shit—”

“Oh yes, Stark’s pet project.” You gave an exaggerated sigh. “What was his name? Paxton, Peyton, or was it Parker?”

“Did I ask for your opinion, K.G.B. Barbie?” Tony Stark’s voice cut in lazily as he walked past, sitting at the head of the table like he owned the place—which, unfortunately for you, he did. As usual, he didn’t look pleased to see you, and the scent of entitlement wafted off of him in waves.

You met his gaze evenly. "No, but I was under the impression that unsolicited opinions were your love language, considering the amount your hand out.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Remind me why we let you sit at the big kids’ table again?”

"You don’t." You glanced at Stark, unimpressed. "But I was invited, shockingly enough. Or are you reckless enough to ignore Fury’s instructions now?"

There it was. That smirk. He smirked at you, and you knew in your heart he had the foulest, most cutting rebuke to lay upon you. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, and you were already grinding your teeth in frustration as you stared back at him, eyes locked onto his smug face—

Kate cleared her throat, stepping in before you and Stark could escalate any further. “So, what do you do?”

Stark held his tongue, so in return, you slid your gaze back over to a nervous Kate. And in that moment, you knew you couldn’t help yourself. Natasha had already shot you a warning look, but the redhead's trained patience for the playboy Stark had unfortunately never extended to you.

"Infiltration, espionage, recon." You shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I gather information, and then the big boys get to swoop in, throw a few punches, and take all the credit. Isn’t that right, Stark?"

Maybe you had woken up grouchier than usual—not that you could even call the few hours of restless tossing and turning sleep. Or perhaps it was the fact that you’d spent the morning eating the training mat, then had to suffer through Natasha and Yelena’s constant interrogations that had soured your mood. Either way, you weren’t exactly in the best headspace to deal with him.

Truthfully, you thought Stark was a prick, and unfortunately, you had never been exactly shy about that opinion. You and Stark had just never really clicked. Not in the way he had with the others, not in the way Natasha had seamlessly folded herself into the team, or the way Yelena had bulldozed her way in, loud and brash. You existed somewhere in between, tolerated but always lingering on the outside. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them. You could banter with Sam, hold an easy conversation with Steve when necessary and trade dry humour with Clint in a way that made you feel almost at home. Even Stark, for all his grating personality, wasn’t always intolerable. But there was always something between you and them—an unspoken distance, a careful line you never crossed. They didn’t entirely trust you yet, and you never gave them a reason to try.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because trust had never been a luxury you could afford.

Your job was reading people—analysing, dissecting, and manipulating. You understood them better than they understood themselves, saw the cracks in their foundations and knew precisely where to apply pressure. It made you valuable. Indispensable even, but it also made people wary. The team knew what you were, even if they didn’t know the full extent of what you had been. But deep down, you knew they were smart enough to assemble the pieces.

So you kept yourself at arm’s length. You wanted to believe you could have that feeling—belonging. But wanting and trusting were two very different things that you did not dare confuse.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Stark interjected, leaning against the desk. “She’s just a pretty face we send in to distract while the rest of us do the actual work.”

There it was.

Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t rise to the bait. This was your hubris. You could already hear Natasha’s scolding—You really shouldn’t egg him on like that. The two of you are as bad as each other, always trying to get under each other's skin. A bunch of alleycats fighting it’s ridiculous—

Somewhere across the table, Bucky’s eyes had shot up. The movement startled you, and your eyes met briefly. It was milliseconds, maybe not even that, but as soon as you registered your brief exchange, Bucky shied away like a spooked animal.

And when you looked back at Kate, Natasha and Yelena, you found that Natasha had been watching the whole thing. She didn’t speak, didn’t even react. There wasn’t the slightest twitch in her brow or twinge in her lips. She stared like some kind of omnipotent god, and deep down, you knew. You knew she knew.

Maybe she didn’t know the full extent, but the way she stared… it made you shudder.

Fuck.

Kate, however, frowned, turning back to you. “That’s not true, right?”

“Of course not,” you deadpanned, not letting the dread pooling in your stomach let you miss a beat. “I do much more than look pretty. Sometimes I get to torture people—”

Kate’s face pale, then through several stages of grief, trying to figure out if you were joking.

You weren’t about to help her.

“Relax, Kate Bishop, she is messing with you,” Yelena said with an amused grin, though it was tight. A silent warning behind her eyes told you to keep your mouth shut.

Kate still looked mildly concerned, but she shook it off quickly. “Okay, but—so you can fight?”

“Of course.”

“Not as well as me,” Yelena cut in before you could elaborate, grinning smugly. “Don’t worry, Kate. You’re being trained by the best of the best. Me? I am the best. You know this.”

You rolled your eyes, and Kate beamed. That girl was too fucking cute for her own good.

The door swung open before anyone could respond to Yelena. Fury stepped inside, long coat sweeping behind him, his boots heavy against the floor. His usual expression—somewhere between perpetually pissed off and quietly judgmental—was firmly in place beneath the shadow of his eyepatch.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Fury said, his voice edged with dry amusement, though his gaze flicked between you all with razor-sharp scrutiny.

"No, sir," Steve said, back straightening. Natasha, ever composed, merely leaned back in her chair. Stark didn’t even spare a glance.

“First off, I’d like to extend my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude for your attendance,” Fury began, spreading his arms in a broad, insincere gesture, his tone so dry it could have turned the room to dust. “I know how much of a hardship it is, taking an hour out of your busy lives to sit in a comfortable chair and listen to me talk.”

Sam snorted. Yelena smirked. Bucky, as usual, remained unreadable.

Fury’s eye landed on you and Bucky before he tossed a slim tablet onto the table, the display already flashing with the text of a mission report you hardly cared to examine in detail.

“Congratulations are in order. The gala infiltration went exceptionally well despite the odds stacked against you.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement, catching movement out of the corner of your eye—Sam begrudgingly sliding Fury what seemed to be a twenty-dollar bill. Asshole.

Fury tapped the screen embedded in the table, replacing the mission debrief with a new set of images. An aerial view of a club, snippets of surveillance footage, a grainy close-up of a man slipping out of a side entrance, bodyguards in tow.

“And thanks to that intel recovered,” Fury continued, “we now have a location on our next target. Dmitry Karpin. Friend to H.Y.D.R.A. Dealt in smuggling high-profile weapons in and out of Soviet countries for a time, but now he’s taken to smuggling drugs. Serums, to be specific.”

Across the table, Bucky had gone still. Tension coiled in his shoulders, his hands resting stiffly on the surface, knuckles taut. H.Y.D.R.A. Serum. The words alone were enough to suffocate the room when Bucky or Steve were around. You didn’t let your eyes linger on him long nor allow your frown to deepen.

Fury didn’t acknowledge the shift—maybe he was used to it by now, or perhaps he just didn’t care. His voice remained steady, rolling over the tension in the room as if he were reciting lines from a well-rehearsed script. Karpin’s security detail. The club’s weak points. Entry and exit strategies. The words blurred together, dissolving into background noise beneath the low hum of static in your head. It was hard to focus when you could feel Bucky sitting across from you, motionless, barely even breathing, his whole body locked up like a loaded fucking gun. And the worst part? He probably thought he was doing a good job hiding it.

You didn’t stare, didn’t let your concern show. Instead, you leant back in your chair, tilting your head just enough to feign disinterest. “So, just another fun-filled evening of chatting up sweaty old men for me? Sounds like a dream.” Your voice came out dry, with just enough sarcasm to mask any wobbles.

Fury didn’t spare you a glance. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” he said, tapping the screen again. More grainy footage. More blueprints. The details kept coming, but you barely registered them.

You picked at your thumbnail hard enough that the cuticle began to bleed.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close. Chairs scraped against the floor as the team rose, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out. You stood, ready to follow, but—

“You two, stick around,” Fury instructed.

You hesitated, glancing at him, then at Bucky, who had also stalled mid-step. Natasha and Yelena exchanged a knowing look, their amusement not at all subtle. You ignored their barely concealed grins as they disappeared through the door.

Fury exhaled, hands bracing against the table as he surveyed the two of you.

“I’ll be honest,” he said finally. “I wasn’t convinced it would work when I paired you two. Thought maybe you’d kill each other before you got anything done.”

Bucky scoffed quietly, gaze flicking away.

“But you proved me wrong.” His good eye narrowed as he continued. “The mission was a success. You handled yourselves well.”

A beat of silence. Then, just as flatly, “I want to know if you’d be open to working together again. Similar style of operation.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to appear too eager or give any more credence to the stories Yelena and Natasha were spinning, but most of all, you didn’t want to put words into Bucky’s mouth. You weren’t in the business of pressuring him in or out of the bedroom.

Bucky was quiet as if silently working through some thoughts before deciding. Finally, he offered a dismissive “Sure.”

You nodded slowly, offering Fury a nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine with that.”

Fury’s lips twitched. Not quite a smirk.

“Well, that’s the most enthusiasm I’ve heard all day,” he deadpanned before shaking his head. “Damn, you two are depressing. Sitting there all broody, staring at me like I shot your goddamn dog.”

Neither you nor Bucky reacted, which was met by a low chuckle from Fury. “Regardless, I appreciate the hard work. You made me a nice chunk of money winning some bets.”

Your brow furrowed. “You bet on us?”

Fury raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Course I did. Had to make it interesting. Half the team thought you’d get caught or kill each other before the first day was up.”

You blinked. “...Who bet against us?”

“Stark.” Fury’s lips twitched again. “He didn’t think you’d make it past security.”

Of course he did. Prick.

—

"Alright, I’m in position."

You blinked. Bucky sat there like he was awaiting orders, his posture rigid as if he were about to breach enemy lines. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure where to put them like touching you required the same level of strategic planning as a high-stakes extraction mission.

You stared, straddling his hips, your fingers ghosting over his collarbone, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. He didn’t quite meet your eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere just past your shoulder as if making direct contact might detonate something neither of you were ready for. For a split second, you half expected him to press a finger to an earpiece and murmur something about securing the perimeter.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, he looked every bit like a man being held hostage rather than one about to receive a very generous favour.

Lately… something felt off. The signs had been subtle at first, the way he always seemed a beat too calculated, his hands found the same places every time, and he would grow still like he was waiting for a command.

And now, looking at him, so wound-up he might actually vibrate, it finally clicked.

Every touch and kiss was executed with the precision of a soldier running a drill rather than a man lost in the moment. It was methodical. He was analysing a strategy rather than experiencing pleasure. You half expected to glance down and see him taking notes—touch here, kiss there, don’t forget to do this. The thought horrified you, but if you were honest… it also amused you.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“…Bucky, are you seriously treating this like a mission?”

He stiffened beneath you, his reaction just a fraction too quick, too defensive.

“What’d you mean?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge. He was already on guard, bracing for imaginary discipline.

“The way you’re…” You trailed off, head inclining as you studied him. His jaw was clenched, brows drawn tight, the creased skin between them betraying him entirely. One could mistake him for a soldier behind enemy lines, waiting for the crack of a rifle. There were dark smudges under his eyes, no worse than usual. You knew he didn’t sleep well. Nightmares haunted him and left him running on fumes more often than not. You recognised the signs, and it was like you were looking into a mirror.

“It’s like you have a mental checklist,” you murmured, watching for his reaction. “Like every move you make is planned like you’re running through a strategy in your head instead of just… feeling it.”

Bucky remained silent, his lips pressing into a firm line.

Gently, you squeezed his shoulder, fingertips pressing into hard muscle. He was tense—too tense. “You’re not clearing a building, Bucky. You’re not scanning for threats. You’re here with me. Just relax a little, won’t you?”

“I am relaxed.” He bit the words out, though neither his voice nor expression were even remotely convincing.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate the attempt to lie, but when I can feel the fucking tension in your body, it’s a little, well, very obvious.” Your hands traced along his shoulders, fingers kneading into the tight knots beneath the fabric of his shirt. His muscles were rock-solid, never fully uncoiled. His body had forgotten how to rest.

“See?” You gave a pointed squeeze. “This is not ‘relaxed,’ Bucky. This is as solid as a goddamn steel beam.”

Bucky scoffed a tiny huff of air through his nose. “Those are my muscles. I work out. Don’t you?”

You gasped in mock delight, lips parting in exaggerated shock. “Oh my God. Did you just make a joke? Bucky, was that a joke?”

Something flickered in his expression for the first time, a sliver of amusement breaking through the ever-present brooding. He finally met your gaze, eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners, and the sight sent a flicker of warmth through your chest.

You grinned. “Well, isn’t that a first? Guess I should mark the calendar.”

His smirk was brief, fleeting—but it was there.

You softened, your voice dropping just a little. “But seriously, you need to loosen up.” Your hands smoothed over his shoulders, slow and deliberate.“Attraction, desire… sex. It’s messy, it’s unplanned. It’s not a mission. This isn’t the army.”

You didn’t dare say the following words in your mind aloud.

This isn’t H.Y.D.R.A.

But you knew that was where his thoughts drifted, that unspoken trouble that plagued you both. Your fingers ghosted along the silver chain at his throat, the faint jingle of his dog tags barely audible under the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to follow orders. You can just be.”

“I know.” The words came low, rough, frayed at the edges. You could feel yourself losing him, his eyes growing foggy as if pulled away to a place you couldn’t quite reach to drag him out from.

“I just…” Another breath, deeper this time, as though steadying himself. “They used me. For so long, they used me as a weapon. I don’t know if I can ever be anything different than that. I don’t want to lose control—what happens if I lose—”

“Hey.” Your hands framed his face now, thumbs brushing against the sharp angles of his cheekbones, anchoring him. “Hey, look at me.”

His eyes lifted, hesitant, guarded.

“You are more than that.” The words were gentle but unwavering, as steady as your hands on him. “We are more than that, okay? You’re Bucky. Just Bucky. And you are in control. Say it.”

His fingers curled against your thighs, knuckles pressing into the cotton fabric of your shorts. He was quiet momentarily as though testing the words in his mind before speaking them aloud. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’m in control.”

“You’re in control.” You echoed, smoothing your thumb over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you still want to do this?”

His breath was slow, deliberate. “Yes.”

Your fingers had drifted higher, threading into his hair, the strands silky and cool beneath your touch. You swept a loose lock from his forehead, letting your fingertips linger against his temple. “And if you don’t want this at any point, what do you say?”

“Stop.”

“And what will happen if you say that?”

“You’ll stop. We’ll stop.”

“Good.” You praised him, your smile widening as you felt him squirm beneath you. There was a subtle hitch in his breath as your hands began to trail lower, palms smoothing down to his chest. The pulse at his throat fluttered beneath your fingertips, quick and uneven, betraying the calm he was trying to hold onto. You leant closer, your breath warm against his skin as you pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his temple. Then lower—to the sharp line of his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, and finally to the hollow of his throat. A shudder ran through him, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He uttered after a thick, audible swallow.

You pulled back just enough to study him, to see how his lips parted slightly as though chasing the warmth of your touch. A quiet, almost reluctant noise rumbled in his chest, just shy of a whine. You traced your fingers along his jaw before tilting your head, considering him. “I want to try something.” You hummed to him. “You can say no if it’s too much, but I think it might help you.”

His brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“I want to blindfold you—”

“You want to what?” He went rigid beneath you, every muscle tightening again as if you’d flipped a switch and snapped him back into defence mode.

“Hold on, just let me finish.” You held up your hand, hoping to counteract his immediate, instinctive reaction.

He huffed, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off the response, but said nothing.

“I want to blindfold you,” you repeated, slower this time, words deliberate. “And I want to kiss you. And touch you. I want you to focus on feeling good rather than anticipating something bad. I want you to just… be here with me. Not thinking about what comes next, not waiting for an attack. Just focusing on feeling. That’s all.”

His expression was cautious before turning to contemplation—as though weighing the idea against everything instinct told him.

“You can say no,” you reminded him gently.

“No, I—” He hesitated, his fingers twitching against your hips.

You shifted back just a little, offering him the space to decide. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—shit—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I mean—no, I want to. Yes. I want to try that.”

Your gaze searched his. “You’re sure?”

His lips pressed together, and then he nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”

You grinned, pressing a sloppy, lingering kiss to his temple before slipping off his lap with ease and rolling onto the bed beside him. “Do you have something we could use?”

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Like a tie, maybe? You wear suits, right? Or does Stark demand them back the second you step foot in the compound?”

Bucky let out a huff, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to talk about Stark right now.”

You shot him a knowing look, but before you could tease him further, your gaze flickered downward—and you smirked. Even through the soft material of his sweatpants, you could see he was already half-hard. “Sure.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, staining his ears and cheeks pink. He cleared his throat, voice rough. “Top drawer. In the wardrobe.”

You were on your feet before he could finish, slipping into his walk-in wardrobe. Every apartment in the compound had one, though Bucky’s was noticeably bare. His clothes were monochrome, muted shades of grey, navy, and black. No bursts of colour. No sign of impulse. It was not a lack of wealth. You knew that for sure. No, this was intentional—a desire to blend in, to disappear.

You’d always known he was the type who preferred the shadows, slipping between crowds unnoticed. No wonder he hated the tailored suits Stark and Fury forced him into—arm issues aside. For some reason, S.H.I.E.L.D. were determined to parade him around. Look, the Winter Soldier. He’s a good boy now. He plays nice. Nothing to fear anymore. You were unsure how he felt about such displays, but you were sure it wasn’t too far off from how you felt about it. You had once been in his shoes, though more in the eye candy territory. A doll to dress up and play with, to smile and play the part.

Powerful men enjoyed degrading that which they knew to be dangerous, enjoyed playing with fire, and enjoyed the illusion of control.

Shaking off the thought, you pulled open the top drawer, sifting through a few neatly folded ties. You selected a smooth black silk, running the cool fabric over your palm before returning to the bedroom.

Bucky was still seated at the edge of the bed, stiff as a board. His hands curled into fists atop his thighs, knuckles taut. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You slowed, holding the tie between your fingers like approaching a spooked animal. Visible to inspect and assess. No threat.

“Yes?” you asked, giving him another chance to change his mind.

His jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Yes.”

You smiled softly. “Just breathe, yeah? Like we always do.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, then exhaled slowly and steadily through your mouth.

After a beat, Bucky mirrored you, chest rising and falling with measured breaths.

You moved behind him, settling onto the bed. He sat still, poised for an attack. Carefully, you draped the silk tie over his eyes, looping it around his head and securing it with a loose knot. It wasn’t tight—one purposeful tug and it would slip free.

You could feel the tension radiating from him. Even blindfolded, he was hyper-aware, attuned to every rustle of the sheets, every shift of your weight. His breathing had turned shallower, the serum sharpening every sound, every sensation.

“If you need to stop for any reason, just say so.”

He jolted slightly at your voice, caught off guard in the quiet. “O-okay.” His voice wavered, and then he cursed low under his breath in Russian.

You grinned. Some habits died hard.

“I’m going to touch you now.” You crept closer, lifting onto your knees behind him. “Just focus on me and how it feels. Nothing else. Can you do that?”

He gave a slow, hesitant nod.

You started at his shoulders, palms skimming over firm muscle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Every dip and ridge, every knot of tension. Your hands slid to his collarbone, then across the joint where flesh met metal, mapping out the contrast between warm skin and the smooth, cold vibranium.

He was solid beneath your touch, every muscle taut and solid as it stretched across the bone.

You had noticed the way his shoulders gave him grief. The slight tilt of his frame and the way his left arm always sat heavier. It was incorrect weight distribution; the metal limb was too heavy compared to its flesh counterpart. S.H.I.E.L.D had surely offered him physical therapy—massages, treatment plans—but you doubted he had ever taken them up on it. He didn’t like to be touched by strangers. Too wary. Too untrusting.

“Can I take off your shirt?” you asked softly.

He stilled.

“I don’t—” His voice was lower now, rougher. “My scars. They’re not—”

“I don’t care about that.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly. “Why would I?”

Without a word, his hand reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt. He yanked it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing the fabric to the floor. You adjusted the blindfold where it had shifted, then let your gaze drift over the broad expanse of his back.

His shoulders were massive, sculpted with muscle. The scars on his left shoulder were brutal—jagged lines of gnarled tissue where the vibranium met flesh. It might have been seamless after the amputation. Painless even. But it had been H.Y.D.R.A who had ruined him, left scars so deep even the Wakandans couldn’t erase.

And H.Y.D.R.A didn’t care for comfort. They cared for necessity. Likely, you suspected, they had wanted him to suffer.

An endless reminder of their ownership.

You swallowed, then placed your hands on his shoulders again, thumbs pressing gently into the base of his neck. You started slow, careful, massaging along the muscle, working your way down. His skin was warm beneath your palms, the mass taut and unyielding at first, like stone beneath your fingers. But you took your time, applying gradual pressure, thumbs circling into the knots built over time.

Beneath your hands, Bucky let out a low, guttural sound—a half-growl, half-sigh of approval. His head dipped forward slightly, chin brushing his chest, an unspoken invitation to continue.

You kept going, kneading deep into the knots in his shoulders, feeling the tension resist before you coaxed it loose. With each press and roll of your fingers, the stiffness unravelled like a cord being undone, thread by thread. You worked methodically, digging your thumbs along the curve where his neck met his shoulders, pressing firmly enough to elicit another low, unconscious groan from him.

You bit back a smile as you felt him lean into you just a little.

Trailing downward, you traced the slope of his shoulder blades, following the ridges of tendons and old wounds. The scars on his left side were tougher, the tissue uneven where flesh met metal, but you didn’t hesitate. Your fingers brushed the seam between the vibranium and skin, then continued downward, thumbs pressing slow, firm circles along the fuse.

Bucky shuddered.

His breath hitched as you dug into the deep-seated strain along his spine. A sharp inhale, a low exhale—he was losing himself to the sensation, surrendering to your touch. You didn’t rush. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, feeling him yield with each measured stroke. When you reached the dip of his lower back, you flattened your hands, smoothing over the tightness that lingered. He was warm now, his skin melting like wax beneath your fingers.

Satisfied, you finally pulled back, smoothing your hands along his spine one last time before shifting your position.

Rising onto your knees, you moved around him, hands trailing over his shoulders as you slid into his lap. His breath stuttered, but he didn’t pull away. You settled against him, straddling his lap, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders. The blindfold was still secure, and he looked… calmer now. Less wound up, his jaw no longer locked so tightly.

“You okay?” You murmured.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you hummed, tilting your head, lips just inches from his ear. “I think you needed that.”

Bucky exhaled a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh, but he didn’t deny it.

Your fingers trailed up the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly against the short hairs, and you felt him shiver beneath you. You leaned in, lips brushing over his cheekbone, just at the edge of the blindfold, before trailing downward. You kissed along his jaw, soft and teasing, pressing your lips into the warm skin beneath his ear, down the column of his throat.

His hands fidgeted at his sides, tightening around the sheets. Then, as if giving in to some internal battle, they rose—hesitant but desperate. His fingers found your waist, sliding over the curve of your hips before gripping tight.

You grinned against his skin.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice a breath of silk against his throat.

A sharp exhale left him, his fingers tightening, pressing you closer, holding you in place. You cupped his jaw, tilting his face up before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky groaned into the kiss.

It was soft at first, your mouth moving against his, teasing, coaxing him deeper. But it wasn’t long before he cracked. The tension he had held onto for so long—his control, his restraint—it frayed at the edges with every pass of your lips against his. You pressed closer, shifting in his lap, and the moment your hips rolled against him, his breath stuttered.

A broken sound escaped him, part groan, part whimper.

You did it again just to hear it.

His hands flexed against your sides, his hold firm, frantic, but he didn’t stop you. He only breathed harder, his forehead falling against yours as you peppered kisses along his lips, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Then you moved again, grinding against him slowly, carefully, and Bucky outright whimpered.

He made no effort to stop you—no attempt to control the rhythm, no resistance left in him. His mind was no longer caught in the tangle of right and wrong, of what he should or shouldn’t do.

He only felt.

Only responded.

You kissed him again, deeper, fiercer this time, and he met you with equal hunger.

Bucky’s hands roamed, sliding up your back. Then, his vibranium hand found your face, cradling it between cool, unyielding metal, and you shivered at the contrast—the bite of cold against your flushed skin, the sheer strength in his hold, barely restrained.

He kissed you like he was starving.

You sighed into his mouth, rolling your hips down to meet his, and he groaned—deep and guttural as his body jerked beneath you. He was fully hard now, the evidence pressing against you through his sweatpants, and you couldn't help the soft, breathy giggle that escaped between kisses.

Bucky growled, his grip tightening, his body chasing yours as you rocked against him.

Your hand trailed down, slipping between your bodies, fingers teasing along the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as your fingertips ghosted lower—

Then he flinched, catching your wrist in a shaky grip.

“Too much,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but the strain was evident.

Immediately, you withdrew, pulling your hand away without hesitation. “I’m sorry. Do you want to stop—”

“No.” he replied quickly, breathlessly.

You cupped his jaw, kissing him slowly, tenderly, as he shuddered beneath you. His hands flexed where they held you, his body still trembling with need, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your movements soft and gentle, pressing your forehead against his, letting him breathe as you kissed him repeatedly.

“Is this better?” you checked in between kisses, voice warm, reassuring.

“Yes.” He muttered against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip and into his mouth.

His body convulsed beneath you, hips twitching up to meet yours, his breath turning shallow and erratic. You could feel the tremors coursing through him, his muscles tensed, his restraint crumbling with every slow, dragging roll of your hips.

Then, with a choked groan, he stiffened.

A broken moan tore from his throat as he came, his body shuddering beneath you. His breath hitched, then stilled, his head falling back onto the bed as he panted heavily, completely spent.

You smiled, watching his chest rise and fall, his body finally wholly relaxed.

You let him catch his breath, your hands smoothing over his chest in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes were still covered, the black silk of the tie snug against his skin, and for a moment, you just watched him—his expression relaxed in a way it so rarely was, his lips parted as he inhaled deep, steadying himself.

Reaching up, you brushed your fingers over his jaw before carefully undoing the knot at the back of his head. The tie slipped away with ease, and his eyes fluttered open, blinking as he adjusted to the room's dim light. His pupils were blown, irises hazy, but there was something else. Softness. An openness you didn’t often see.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Hey.”

You leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before shifting off of him, allowing him to breathe. He hesitated momentarily before sitting up, his movements slow, almost reluctant. His sweatpants were clinging damply to his skin, and he grimaced slightly before rubbing a hand over his face.

“I should, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The soft sound of running water followed soon after. You stayed where you were, fingers idly playing with the silk tie as you listened, giving him the space to clean up and gather himself.

When he returned, his sweatpants had been swapped for a fresh pair, the fabric hanging loose around his hips. His hair was damp in uneven patches where he’d raked wet fingers through it, a lazy attempt at tidying up. He lingered in the doorway, weight shifting from one foot to the other, eyes flickering over you like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Come here.”

His shoulders loosened just a fraction before he climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you with a quiet sigh. He was warm—solid and steady. Without thinking, you nestled closer, resting your head against his chest. His arm came around you automatically, like muscle memory, pulling you in and holding you there.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, barely above a whisper, you asked, “Did you like it?”

Bucky exhaled a deep, slow breath. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice lower than usual, like he wasn’t used to saying it. “I did.”

You smiled, tracing absentminded circles against his chest. “What did you like about it?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“It made it easier,” he murmured. “Not seeing. I could just… feel. Focus on what was happening instead of everything else.” His thumb brushed lightly against your side. “Didn’t have to worry about if I was doing something wrong.”

You frowned slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Bucky, you’ve never done anything wrong.”

“I know,” he said, but his voice was tight, a shadow crossing his expression. “It’s just—” He stopped, mouth pressing into a thin line.

You reached up, smoothing a hand over his cheek. “Talk to me.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “I’m scared of it sometimes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Scared of what?”

“Pleasure.”

His fingers tightened slightly against your side like he was bracing himself, but he didn’t look away from you.

“I was taught…” He inhaled sharply. “That it could only be taken. Taken from me. That it was never given freely.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That it wasn’t mine to have.”

Slowly, carefully, you sat up, shifting so you were fully facing him. He looked at you, expression guarded, but there was something vulnerable beneath it, something fragile in the way he held himself.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Those people, the ones who taught you that, they were trying to hurt you, degrade you,” you told him firmly. “Pleasure is to be shared equally. It’s something you deserve.” You squeezed his hand, your voice softening.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything to earn it,” you whispered.

He swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening. His voice was barely above a breath when he said, “I don’t know if I know how.”

You smiled softly. “That’s okay. We have time.”

You lifted his hand again, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles before settling back down beside him. His warmth seeped into you, but the ache in your chest remained—persistent, lingering. It had nothing to do with exhaustion, the tension in your muscles, or even the way your body still hummed with remnants of touch. No, this ache came from somewhere deeper, from the thoughts unravelling in your mind like a loose thread tugged too far, too fast as you contemplated his confession.

You had always been a giver. That was your role, your purpose. You gave and gave until there was nothing left. Until you were hollow inside. And yet, the world kept asking for more. You wondered if, over time, it had chipped away at your soul, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

The words left your lips before you could stop them, before you had the chance to weigh whether you truly wanted to say them aloud.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not… whole?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing in the low light, lids heavy as he blinked his dark lashes. He didn’t press or demand, didn’t look at you as if he needed clarification. He just waited, silently, like he knew you weren’t finished.

So you kept going.

“Like with every mission, every fight, every demand, you lose something? A tiny piece of yourself, given away without even realising it?” Your voice dropped lower. Bucky was still beside you, completely still, only his breath tickling your cheek with each slow rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t even know if I’m still the person I was when I was born or if I’ve just been rebuilt from borrowed parts. Pieces given to me, made for me, shaped to fit what I was supposed to become.” You exhaled a sharp breath. “Or maybe… what they wanted me to become.”

The words were bitter on your tongue, and yet they kept coming.

“And I think… maybe I’m afraid that if I ever showed the real me, the world would reject me. That they’d be disgusted by my soul. By everything I have done.”

A shaky breath left your lips, your voice barely more than a whisper now.

“Because sometimes… sometimes I think the only way people will keep me around is if I give them something in return.”

Silence.

You turned your head toward him, searching his face, waiting for something—anything—that would tell you what he was thinking. You hoped for a look, a breath, a word to ground you. But as your gaze swept over him, you realised his breathing had evened out, his lashes fluttering softly against his cheeks. The sharp furrow of his brow had smoothed, his lips slightly parted in a way that spoke of exhaustion finally pulling him under.

Asleep.

Your words had been lost to him.

You weren’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Maybe it was for the best. He needed the rest, the peace of slumber more than you did. Even now, in the soft glow of the room, dark circles remained etched beneath his eyes.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling momentarily before carefully slipping out of bed. You moved with quiet precision, gathering your things without making a sound. When you reached the door, you hesitated, glancing back.

For a second, a small, selfish part of you wished he had—wished he had heard you, had held you, had given you something, anything, to quiet the storm inside your chest. But he hadn’t.

And maybe that meant you could take the words back.

Tuck them away for another time.

Or hold onto them forever, maybe all you had needed was to say them aloud, even if only silence itself was listening.

Bucky didn’t stir from his slumber, not even when the door clicked shut behind you.

---

taglist: @civilbucky @buckysbbydoll @rosegarbage @fleurenoir @oikarma @blackstabbath6 @kcbug1128 @ellesbellswrites @thaynarajejheje @wunder-blunder @oceanaroma @dyscalculiaaa @murdocklvrr @pursuedbyamemoryy @fantasyheroine @chronicallybubbly @nikkinss @maryevm @doilooklikeagiveafrack (sorry if it didn't tag anyone properly)

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #beefy bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel #lessons in lovemaking

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dante-mightdie · 5 months ago

Note

I love butcher!Simon. I love weirdo!Simon. But I extra love weirdo!butcher!Simon. He's just so awkwardly precious.

Nothing is does is socially correct. Covered in blood some dates, following reader around with the cleaver before, during, and after they were together. The things he talks about, proudly referring to some cuts of meat by the animal's pet name ( "Joe's ribs were extra tender to cut into. Was a good clean cut, lots of blood though.")

But you're just smiles and sunshine, the whole "that's my man. Thank you to my man" sound. Anyone who was around to see the first kiss thought you were being attacked when they saw you being held against your will by this brute in the alley by his shop. Or, the first time reader and Simon had sex and the cops were called to your apartment cause your neighbors saw him enter your apartment and heard your cries later on. Somehow, even the proposal was strange. When you tell the story, you tell it with big grins and distant happy look, but the other couple you're on the double date with (Gaz and his bird maybe, or an old friend of reader's who was in town) are now anxiously watching the door and Simon, wondering how you could have ended up with this man.

It's true love.

c/w: somno, dub-con, blood, menstruation, period sex

I love the idea that butcher!simon’s wife is so super obsessed with him because he’s just such a strange guy. and she likes her men a little strange

everything he does is endearing to her, “funny” stories about how he comes home covered in blood and scares the everloving shit out of you. his blunt, uncomfortable humor always makes her giggle whilst everyone else looks on horrified

they just don’t understand how good he is to you :( he brings you a thick cut of of steak on the first day of your period and cooks it up proper for you. in exchange, however, you have you let him eat your pussy until his face is smeared with your blood.

or how he he makes you feel so safe and protected at night, wrapped you in those burly arms and squeezing you so tight. just don’t be upset when you wake up to your hand wrapped around his cock, his own hand forcing you to pump his shaft until he spills all over your fingers after only a few strokes :(

he’s just such a pathetic loser

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #butcher!simon

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slutofpsh · 8 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part five | lhs.

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8k

warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: lee heeseung’s solo part. next one will be jay’s. thank you so much for supporting my works and loving strip for me series. also, this doesn’t have heavy smut since i want to show the boy’s affection with reader outside the bed even more. anyway, reblogs and replies are highly encouraged.

part one; two; three; four

you got sick the day after. maybe because your body got overwhelmed and didn’t expect that kind of activity. they let you rest for as long as you like until you finally regained your senses.

it was almost 10 pm when heeseung drove you home. both of you silent throughout the drive. heeseung’s glancing at you from time to time, but you refused looking at him.

your mom isn’t really skeptical about it. its also a good thing that she didn’t wonder why the hell did you get sick the day after because you have no idea what will you tell her.

today’s saturday. you skipped school yesterday and just laid on your bed the whole time.

your mind is still occupied by the big question: ‘what are you for those boys?’

they did took care of you that definitely ruin the whole concept of you being their toy and made you confused. the switch up is totally odd as well. they’re always so rude and harsh towards you, then suddenly they went soft and gentle.

that tho, didn’t change the fact that you felt used. (name)’s words kept repeating inside your mind like a broken radio.

a faint knock on your bedroom door snaps you out of you thoughts.

“y/n?” its your mom. “you have visitors. your friends are here.” she announced that draws your brows together.

“friends?” you’re beyond confuse.

nobody ever visited you, and more importantly, what friends? while feeling a little disoriented, you forced yourself out of the bed then faced the mirror once.

the smile on your mother’s face is bright, looking so delighted. she feels excited by this visit she’s referring to, you can tell by how she ushered you down the staircase.

“mom, wait.” you tried calming her down because you can’t think properly on who those friends she’s talking about.

“come on! they’re waiting.” and finally, you made it to the last step then she almost drag you to the spacious living room.

your lips gapped when you saw them dominates the sofa set by the middle. its just the four of them but it seem too crowded. maybe because they’re all so tall and now the average looking sofa looks a bit small for them.

they all whipped their heads on your direction the moment you stepped inside. you cannot exactly tell the look on their faces. your mom smiles and tugs your arm lightly.

“they said they’ve been worried, sweetie. why didn’t you told them that you’re sick?” she pouts.

you blinked, pushing the tears back inside your eyes. its a bit annoying. how you planned to ignore them after what happened and now you can feel your heart warms up just by seeing them here. how all the courage to finally end it dissipates along with your anger for the four fine men in front of you.

its kind of sickening. you find yourself pathetic for actually letting them affect you this way. they make you feel worthless, but at the same time they’re the only ones who can make you feel special.

“i’m s-sorry, it slipped off my mind.” you sniffed and tried to hide the real emotion through a half-smile.

your mom totally bought that reason. she hums and then she can hear a faint ringing from the other side of the house.

“oh! that must be my workmate. i’ll leave you guys here, okay? i will order food for you guys.” she coos and then exits the living room, leaving you alone with them.

their eyes settles at you, flashing with an foreign look on it. that made you feel uneasy so you glanced away.

“sweets,” jake was the first one to approach you closer, reaching for your arm.

his heart sank when you yank it back, declining his affection. he looks surprised and he wanted to try again, but he doesn’t want to push it.

“why are y-you here?” your voice cracks and looked at them one by one.

jay looks concerned, heeseung have his usual calm composure and sunghoon’s brows are furrowed. you can’t tell if he’s mad or worried. he stood up, stopping himself to advance towards you. he doesn’t want to scare you.

“we just want to check on you...” sunghoon says in his softest tone. he licked his lips, blinking multiple times to try and calm himself.

your view of sunghoon got covered when jake steps closer, his brows furrowed hardly and eyes glistening with sadness. his hand hangs mid way, attempting to get in touch of you, craving it.

“we got worried when you skipped class yesterday. we tried to call you, sweetheart.” jake looks desperate. it slightly broke your heart seeing him this way. his mischievous smile long gone.

“but you ignored all of us...” it was jay who talked this time.

you gave him a short glance. the stare stays for a while before you pursed your lips to sigh heavily. chest tightens and mind all messed up.

“what happened, sweets?” jake steps closer.

out of all of them, he’s the most touch deprived. one day without you and he’s all over the place. not to mention that you’ve been ignoring all of them. none of their attempts to contact you became successful and its sending him in distress.

you glanced at him then took a step backward. it pinned him on his position, eyes blank. jake looks in pain, but you looked much worst.

heeseung may seem calm, but behind this composed demeanour is his mind being a mess. he’s in panic. he never seen you this way and honestly he’s not prepared. he gulps and tries to gather himself.

“jake...” he calls his friend to stop him from advancing more.

as expected, he didn’t listen and attempts to take another step but a tear escaping your eye is what halts him from doing so. they never seen you this bothered and terrified before.

“sweets...” jake almost chokes on air when he softly tries to call you.

“p-please leave.” your breaths heavy, and chest painful from thinking that you’ll be ending what you have with them

its messed up. its very wrong. the set up is fucked up, but you can’t deny that you’ve gained more than you lost from this—whatever you call this.

it may sound exaggerated, but you think you saw all of their faces lose color. their eyes flickers fear and shoulders hangs low after hearing what you said.

“s-sweets...” jake’s voice cracks, trying to earn some sympathy. he never done that. he isn’t someone so weak. he always know where he stand and his power he holds over people. but not at the moment, specially not in front of you.

heeseung clenches his jaw to hide his trembling lips. he unclasped his fist, realizing he’s been doing that ever since you’ve walked inside the room.

jay’s in shambles. he doesn’t know what to feel at the moment. he’s always been the nonchalant one. never shown that there’s a weak spot in him. but now that you seem to be slipping away from him, he’s lost. he can feel his heart aching, hands shaking and breaths shorten.

sunghoon’s silent. his eyes never left you, fists balled tightly. he’s cursing himself. for being so ruthless and aggressive. he’s blaming it all to him and his friends. they’re so selfish. and you’re just too perfect. you did nothing wrong. it was all on them.

“y/n,” heeseung licks his lips and this time he trudges closer. jake glances at him, eyes full of hope. maybe his heeseung hyung can fix this mess. he can, right? that’s what echoes inside his mind.

“angel...” he gulps and you noticed how he’s a little off right now. he’s far from the reserve and calm, heeseung you’re used to.

he looks... anxious. the fear and trepidation flashes clearly through his eyes. something you’ve never seen before.

“tell me what’s wrong, hmm? we’ll talk about it.” he says using his calmest tone. “we’ll figure things out.”

that caught you off-guard. if there’s something about these four men have in common is that they love being in control of you. they get off seeing fear and watching you submit to them.

so to hear him saying those words are new for you. talk? will they really listen? what if they just laugh at you if you opened it up to them.

those questions clouded your mind to the point that you didn’t notice jake approaching closer. heeseung wanted to stop him, but he knew there’s no preventing jake from getting close. its either he lets him or he’ll completely lose it.

jake’s warm hands wraps over your wrist is what snaps you back in to your senses.

“sweets...” he calls you. his eyes scanned your face and wait if you’ll resist his affection once again.

he gulps, hope igniting when you didn’t shove his hold off. he took a step closer and this time cups your face. your cheeks warm that sent comfort to jake.

“tell us what’s wrong...” he whispers, pleading. he rest his forehead on top of yours and shut his eyes. “please.” he added.

that made you cry. because you got scared. you’re afraid to confront them because it may end everything.

“what a-am i to you, really?” you started that caught them off-guard.

“y-you guys...” they kept their stares right at your face, waiting attentively to what you’re about to say.

“you treat me like a toy. you’re playing with me like as if i d-don’t have feelings.”

if the scene moments ago hurts them, then this surely broke everything in them. they were silent for a while. reflecting to all the things they’ve done so far to you. yes, they were a little less insolent the other day, but what they did to you probably made you misunderstand it.

jake was the first one to retract, “what? no, sweetheart.” he licks his lips and cares your cheeks gently. he shakes his head continuously.

“we...” he gulps, nervous. he locks his gaze at you and softens, tears brimming his eyes. “i love you.” he blurted out that made you hitch your breath.

that obviously is not what you expected to get from him. specially from jake. he’s the player, always have girls around him. you’ve never heard him say those words to anyone.

your eyes stares right at his desperate ones, trying to search for any traces of mischief over them. but none. sincerity and desperation is all you can see through them.

a warm hand rests at the small of your back then someone rests his forehead at the side of your head. his familiar manly scent invades your nose.

jay’s eyes are tightly closed when you try to glance at him. his jaw clenched hard as his hand bore onto your back.

“i’m sorry if you misunderstood us, baby. that’s not how we want things to escalate.” he mumbles so softly. nuzzling close to you, like as if it will help ease those pain away.

it made you sob. heeseung approaches and his friends gave space for him. he grabs one of your hand and caress it. while staring at your eyes, he placed a gentle kiss on it while the other two boys tries to hugs you. jake’s got his face buries on the crook of your neck, jay remains standing beside you.

“i’m sorry, angel. we...” he couldn’t continue right away. he gulps. “we didn’t know this is how you feel.”

tears streams down your face. continuously. and your chest aches, but this time its for a different reason. you didn’t expect any of these. you imagined them scoffing and laughing at you for actually catching feelings for them. they basically mistreated you.

jake tightens his hug on you, refusing to let go. his warmth envelopes you. jay has his hand placed at the small of your back, caressing it up and down. heeseung has your hand, kissing it from time to time.

the three of them whispered their sorries. they totally feel bad. as your eyes roams around, it caught sunghoon’s.

he’s still standing at his place. didn’t move a step. he’s just there, watching all of this unfold. his heart aches, that’s for sure. he wanted to come close to you too just like how his friends are trying to console you, but his feet are stoned.

he cannot do it. he’s afraid.

out of all of them, he’s the meanest. he says the most hurtful and degrading words towards you. of course, he meant none of them. he’s just caught up in the moment and to the thought of dominating you.

his heart drops at the sight of your tear stained eyes. all those times he’s been rough on you flashes back through his mind like a montage. he hates it. he hates himself.

heeseung whips his head back to look over his shoulder. he can see how sunghoon has his fists balled. how he looked scared. he’s never seen him this way.

“dude.” he calls.

jake lifts his head to look at his friend, jay’s watching too. sunghoon kept silent, his lips shaken.

“h-hoon?” you called him out, now starting to feel worried by how he’s acting.

sunghoon’s eyes stings as it heats up. he knew he’s tearing up, but he won’t let you see him shed tears. not because he’s trying to mask it ouy, but 'cause he knew it will make you even sadder. he’s scared that he will cause more damage.

his eyes met his heeseung hyung and he nods with a small encouraging smile. the four of them grew up together. they’ve known each other their whole life, so he knew why sunghoon’s not approaching.

its not because he’s mad. he’s being careful. and sunghoon’s never been like this towards someone.

sunghoon gulps then take small courageous steps. your eyes watch him carefully, waiting patiently.

when he’s steps away from you, his eyes softens and you saw how his hand trembles when he lifts it to touch you. he backs out, hesitating to lay his hand on you.

“i’m sorry.” he says in a low voice.

it was such a short sentence but the amount of emotion his eyes shows is enought to let you know that he has so many more that he wants to say.

your eyes scanned his face. slowly, you laid your hand out for him. its a way to let him know that its fine and that you allow him to touch you.

his eyes darts at it. he contemplates, but eventually reaches out. your warm hands sent comfort to sunghoon’s cold ones. it gave him life.

“i’m sorry, pretty. w-we’re really sorry.” he mumbles as he buries his face on your neck. his big figure almost covers you up from heeseung’s perspective.

they watch silently. thankful that you’re just too nice to even let them be this close to you. they exchange look to each other and knew they had to do something to make it up to you.

“forgive us, angel. we’ll do better from now on.” heeseung says and rest his big hands on your hip.

you looked at him and kept silent.

honestly, you’ve been thinking of ending it between them. the amount of stress and overthinking you’ve been going through because of them was unhealthy. you promised that after confronting them and if they confirmed that they’re just here for the fun, you’ll bolt out.

but... this is totally a big turn of events.

your lips stretched a little. a subtle gentle smile, but still visible to their eyes are what relieved them.

“okay.”

jake rushes closer and kisses your cheeks multiple times. “really, sweets? thank you! i love you!” he excitedly mumbled between his kisses.

you felt sunghoon’s big strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist.

“thanks, baby. we will try our best.” jay caught your attention when he rest his hand on top of your head, giving it light taps.

the corner of his lips lifts before leaning to kiss you on the lips. “i love you.” he whispers, like he doesn’t want the other boys to hear. like it was only meant for you.

jake steps in, the sulky boy in him coming out. “kiss me on the lips too!” he argues and pouts his plump lips.

jay snorted and swat his arms. you chuckles and lets him lean in for a swift kiss. his eyes sparkling after that smooch.

heeseung’s hands digs on your hip as he leans silently to drop a kiss on your lips. it was soft and lasts for a few seconds. when he pulls away, he remains close and smiles.

“thank you, angel. we’ll be good boyfriends. right?” he says and looks at his friends which they responded with nods.

you blushed, “b-boyfriends?” surprised.

heeseung smirks then nods, “you’re our girl.” he pinches your cheeks lightly. “not some toy.”

sunghoon places a kiss on your neck then pulls away. his eyes bores to you. they glisten affection and relief.

“our pretty girl.” he whispers and dips his head to give you a feathery hot kiss on the lips.

your eyes opens when he pulls away.

“we need to work on our issues in order for this to work. we don’t want another misunderstanding like this.” heeseung announces.

“do you have anything else you don’t like, angel? except from us being total assholes...” he cleared his throat.

your mind wonders. “i d-didn’t like what we did the last time. its o-overwhelming...”

they all looked at you with cute eyes then jay chuckles. “i mean she did passed out that time. her stamina couldn’t handle it.” he says.

heeseung nods, “at least we get to try it once, right?” he smirks, the memories of the night still lingers to his mind.

you blushed and glanced away.

“is that all, angel?”

you look back at heeseung and nodded.

“please stop being aggressive.” you reminded, ears turning red.

they almost cooed at how adorable you looked.

“we promise.” they say almost in unison then approaches for a group hug with you in the middle, making sure they aren’t squishing you too much.

“but we can still do threesome, right?” jake asks innocently that made all of you whip your heads at his direction.

“jake!” they all hissed at him for still being horny despite the wholesome situation that only made you chuckle.

“hi!” you shyly greets when you saw heeseung outside of your house, leaning over his black audi.

its monday morning and you’re beyond surprise to receive a text message from him saying he’ll be picking you up for school. of course you got excited. this will be the first time.

“good morning, beautiful.” he smirks and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

your cheeks blushed at his words then stomach churns when he leans in for a kiss. it seems so natural. like this is your usual morning routine.

“get in.” he instruct and even open the door for you.

once inside, he swiftly walks around to ride the driver’s seat. then off you go. it was a short drive, but it isn’t awkward. heeseung’s asking questions from time to time to start a conversation while a low music plays on his radio.

the moment his car enters the parking area designated for the students, you saw familiar boys. jay’s leaning over his car while jake and sunghoon bickers about something.

“oh they’re early.” you mumble because usually you arrive first.

heeseung’s always on time since he’s the school’s president. jay and jake arrives at school just on time. sunghoon’s the one always late, unless he have his morning practices.

their heads whips at your direction once they heard the familiar blaring of heeseung’s car. jake turns his back over hoon then waves like an excited puppy. he for sure cannot see you yet as the car is heavily tinted, but it made you smile. he’s so cute.

he’s on your side of the door once heeseung’s done parking it. he waits until the car’s unlocked and then open it for you.

“sweetheart!” he greets happily then hugs you.

heeseung shakes his head while smirking then unclasped your seatbelt for you as you’re busy greeting jake, returning his hug.

jay and sunghoon walks closer as well then hoon went to grab your things from the backseat. he naturally carries it, letting one strap hangs on his arm.

“hey, baby.” jay greets and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“hi jay.”

“i arrived earlier than both of them!” jake interrupts, proudly letting you know how he’s very punctual today.

“wow, that’s great jakey.” you complimented him and his eyes sparkles.

“yeah, right. you’re so childish.” sunghoon commented before leaning towards you for his kiss.

all of you walks on the hallways together. sunghoon and heeseung’s is a few steps ahead while jake’s beside you telling you about his dog. even showing you her cute pictures and bragging how she’s the smartest dog ever. which sunghoon quickly argues that his dog is much better.

jay’s on your other side, silently listening to his friend’s playful banters. he’s very used to it already and slowly, you too.

curious eyes follows the five of you. there’s a hint of surprise and judgment through them. some are whispering, some just stares with mouth slightly gapped and others just don’t care.

honestly, it bothers you. their eyes carefully watching you is making you uneasy. it felt so weird being watched that it makes you wonder how these boys got used to this.

jake’s warm hand envelops yours that caught your attention. he smiles, his red plump lips distracting you.

“don’t mind them, sweets. they’re just jealous.” he whispers, eyes staring straight at yours.

with blushing cheeks, you blinked twice. “w-why? because i’m with you guys?”

he shakes his head and leans closer, his lips grazing your ears that made your stomach drop. “because you’re ours.”

to say that your face turns red is an understatement. your heart races and he just winks then continues talking about other things.

when you arrived at the classroom, they’re all looking curiously. wondering why these boys are acting this way around you. as far as they remember, they used to bully you around. basically why you end up becoming a loner.

“here, pretty.” sunghoon says and placed your things at the side of the chair. you thanked him and he just smiled before walking to his seat.

jay and heeseung did the same but jake remains near you, pouting hardly.

“can’t i move seats?” he complains.

you chuckle and cares his arm, “go to your seat now, jakey.”

he sighs and wants to lean to give a kiss but stops himself. you did talked about them not to do pda in public or at least when around a lot of people. not everyone is open for this kind of relationship, you just don’t want any issues.

“jake, stop being sulky and sit down.” jay calls him then rolls his eyes.

the said boy just raises his fist and showed his middle finger to his friend. you chuckled and just sat down so jake can go to his chair.

eventually, the homeroom teacher walks inside for morning reminders. she mentioned the upcoming fieldtrip which slightly riles you up. you’re excited to go at the museums and such.

during the breaktime, the boys accompanied you. sunghoon and jake to be specific. the other two are busy on student council so its just the three of you.

“what do you want to eat, doll?” sunghoon asks while pulling a chair for you.

jake’s playing with the edge of your hair while watching you carefully.

“anything is fine.”

hoon nods once, “i’ll order for you.”

“thank you, hoon.” with a smile.

he smirks then squeezed your hand before walking off. jake and you sat down at the table.

“did heeseung hyung told you already?” he starts.

“about?”

“he’s taking you out on a date later.” he says casually while doing something to his phone. his forehead narrows, very focus.

“a d-date?”

he hums, answering your question with a short nod. he’s not looking at you, still hooked to his phone. “where?”

he shrugs, “have no idea.”

your heart hammered just by the thought of going on a date with thee lee heeseung. yes, they did said that they’ll make it up to you and that confirmed your relationship with them, but sometimes it still don’t sink in.

they’re your boyfriends...

your eyes caught the glimpse of what jake’s doing and you got distracted. its a picture of you. that was the first time you saw it.

“is that me?”

jake whips his head at you then smiled, “yes! i’m putting you as my wallpaper.” then he clicked something before locking it and opening the screen to show you.

its a candid picture of you. you forgot when it was, but it was obvious that you’re unaware of him taking that photo. you’re focused on something.

“beautiful, isn’t it?” his smug smirk looked adorable. he cocked his eyebrow once, smirking wider. “that’s my girlfriend.”

you blushed even harder. “stop it.”

he chuckled, finding you adorable. instead of stopping, he stared more intensely making you even more flustered.

“j-jake..” and you glance away.

“fine, i’ll stop.” finally, he glances away, his big grin not wiping off.

sunghoon arrives afterwards and the three of you enjoys the time together before going back to your class.

during your vacant, some of your classmates are doing random things inside the room. you find it a waste to just do nothing and remembered about the history assignment.

you stood up and instantly, four heads whips at your direction. when the bell rang and one of the students announced that it was your vacant, they all naturally gathered around you.

“where are you going?” they almost ask at the same time.

“a-at the library.” you answered, shy that all of their attention is now directed at you. its slowly becoming a habit, but that’s something you will never get used to.

“i’ll go with you.” heeseung was quick to stand up and fix his uniform slightly before carding his soft black hair once.

you gulped, “o-okay...” and your eyes dropped at the three boys who remains sitting down.

sunghoon smiles, “see you later, doll. i’m sleepy.” he reasons then leans over his table.

jay just smiled. jake have this pout on his lips. “i really want to co—” his words got interrupted when jay covered his mouth.

“shut up.”

heeseung covers your line of sight from them then flashes this soft smile. “let’s go?” he says and just like being hypnotized by his gaze, you nod your head.

heeseung ushered you to the library, asking what you’re going there for. once informed about the assignment, he said that he’s already finished with his so he’ll just help you.

you can’t help but to be at awe for this man. can he be more perfect? he’s good in everything.

he find you guys a vacant table and asked you to sit down. he said he will look for the book he used and you thanked him. it didn’t took long before you saw him walking back with a handful of books. strangely, he fits this image well.

you’re in complete trance when he walked closer then placed it on the table. he then started pointing the references he used and told you that you can gather information from those articles then summarize it to your own words.

that was plenty for you. considering it will save you time doing this assignment. with a small smile you thank him then proceed on focusing on the task. heeseung sat beside you and watch how your brows draws closer.

his grin grew wider and fingers starting playing through his lower lip. his stares never left you then it slowly trailed down from your brows to your nose and then lips. those damn lips...

he inhaled and licked his lip, cleared his throat in the most silent way.

now, he went here with you with the most genuine intention of helping you. but then his thoughts are starting to wonder into something... inappropriate.

you did said that you only disapprove of them being mean and aggressive, right? being horny is not mentioned. so you probably won’t mind if he fingers you knuckle deep right now.

god, just by thinking of it, heeseung’s already salivating.

besides, its not his fault that you look so innocent and very pretty looking all serious.

he rests his hand on your thigh that made you jolt in surprise. you blinked twice then turns your head at his direction. he’s giving you this lazy look while biting over his lips.

your chest hammered and stomach churns when he started caressing your thighs gently. making sure you can feel his rough palms rubbing against your exposed skin.

“h-heeseung...”

he raised an eyebrow, “yes, angel?” he asks innocently like as if he’s not doing trailing his hands upwards into your inner skirt.

“w-we’re in the library...” and you roam your eyes trying to check if there’s people near enough to get suspicious of what’s going on under the table.

“exactly. go study.” he says with a grin.

“w-what are you doing? they might see—”

“shh, don’t worry. just be a good girl and do your assignment, okay?” and he leans to drop a kiss on the side of your head, ushering you to continue doing your work.

after staring at him for a while and realizing he ain’t going to stop, you decided to just go with it. besides, you can’t hide the arousing feeling that slowly poisoning your whole system. your head starting to get fuzzy, core getting wet as he started to trace the line of your pussy.

you hummed, teeth sunk onto your lower lip in attempt to stop any moans that wants to come out. “ungh,”

he chuckles sexily, “try to be quiet. we’re at the library after-all.” he whispered.

he pulls his hand out then gave it a lick before dipping it back in. “open your legs for me, please.” he demanded in a very soft tone.

you’re already in deep thoughts, unable to even respond properly and just obliged his dirty desires. once he have a better access, heeseung pushes your underwear to touch you bare.

his fingers are hot and rough. feels so good. he started on your clit, rubbing it in a very delicious way.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he curses, enjoying how your face contorts out of pleasure. pleasure that he’s currently giving you.

“h-hee..” you calls him.

he smirks, loving the way you’re so needy for his fingers.

“all right, i'm going in angel. focus on your assignment.” he stated like as if its even possible to do that. but you tried to pull yourself together. heaved a sigh then looked at the books in front of you. none of the words made sense, but that’s not important.

your mouth slightly gaps as he inserted one finger inside you. the stretch felt so good it makes you want to moan loudly.

“shh.” he reminded, chuckling.

he’s enjoying it. he’s loving it as much as you’re loving being finger fucked.

he didn’t stopped and put another finger. he let it rest inside, trying to take time feeling your tightness around his long fingers. he wants to imagine it to be his dick and he bet it will feel heaven. he shove that thought right away, he needs to focus on you.

“you’re so tight around me, angel.” he whispered huskily. “even after being fucked by all of us, you’re still so fucking tight.” he started talking in nasty way.

the way he say it in a calm tone just hits in a different way. you gulped and breath out, calming yourself.

“p-please.”

he smirks and gave you another kiss on the side of your head. he started moving his fingers that almost sent your soul out of your body. the way his fingers moved in and out in your tight hole just feels perfect.

he continues, slowly catching his pace that just added to your pleasure. one of your hand grips over his thighs, squishing it that he quickly find adorable.

“how i wish its my tongue inside that hole, angel.” he says that he truly means.

you whimpered lowly and tried to keep your eyes open. the words on the book starting to became blurry. it went on for a while until you feel a knot forming on your stomach. a sign that you’re already close.

“heeseung...” you calls out.

he chuckles then rutt his fingers even faster making you whimper softly. you glance at him and he already knew that you’re close. from the way your eyes are half-lidded and teeth digging unto your lips, you are definitely about to release.

he fucks deeper and just a few moments after you came to his fingers, head hanging low and grip over his thighs tightening. you shake lightly that made him chuckle, leaning his head closer to kiss you by the head.

“you did so well.” he complimented then kept on thrusting in and out in a slow pace, helping you ride your high.

once you calmed down, he pulls it out making you wine. he stares at you then shamelessly took his fingers over his lips to suck it. your eyes grew and cheeks blushed hardly.

“heeseung!”

he smirks, “i deserve a reward, don’t you think?” then he winks at you making you lose your mind. he’s going to be the death of you.

“bye baby.” jay smiles and kisses you gently before moving away to give way for sunghoon. he’s already holding his helmet by one of his hand.

“bye, pretty.” he says with a playful grin over you.

you smiled before pouting, “please drive safely.”

his eyes soften after what you said and leans in again for another kiss. “i will, i promise.”

you nodded and a sulking jake came into your view.

“bye sweets.” he says half-heartedly that made you chuckle then insisted for a kiss just to ease his bad mood.

sunghoon rolls his eyes then grabbed his sulking friend by his uniform and drag him out of there. jake complains and started to argue, but jay helped to drag him away.

heeseung sighs and snaked his arm over your waist, “let’s go?”

you glance at him then nod your head once before going to his car. he opened the door like always and guides your inside.

“where are we going?”

he glances, “i’m taking you to our small vacation house by the lake.” he smiles.

you smiled back, “hmm. okay.”

“i called your mom and told her i’ll get you home a little late.”

“you called her?” you’re surprised he even remembered telling it to her.

“yes. i don’t want her to be worried or get you in trouble.” he says while eyes fixed at the road.

you pout your lips and looked at more with so much adoration. that was so sweet of him. you can feel your heart races and butterflies going crazy inside your stomach.

heesueng notices your stares and chuckles, “why?”

you shake your head, “its just you’re so sweet. it makes my heart melt.”

his smile grew wider, totally proud that he made you feel more special.

“anything for you.”

he said it will took a bit time to get there so you guys went to drive thru so he can buy some food you can eat while on the way. while on the way, you naturally fall into conversations, giggling and teasing each other.

it feels so good. heeseung used to be very intimidating for you. his serious demeanor and the way he seems so calm about everything just makes you feel agitated around him. but eventually, he starts to feel warm. like someone you can entrust yourself fully. they all feel that way, honestly. but heeseung’s the most reliable one, you must admit.

when he noticed your eyelids looking heavier, he chuckles and told you that you can sleep for a while.

“but how about you?” feeling a little bad that you’ll leave him driving.

he smiles assuringly, “i’ll be fine, angel.”

and with that you slowly dozed off. he lets you sleep until you’re already pulling over the driveway of their small vacation house. its not particularly small. its actually above average, but maybe for people like him who probably have many vacation houses, this is small for him.

“careful.” he mumbled and quickly reaches for your hand when the rocky path greets you.

the house is very cozy and simple. the clear view of the lake can be seen from the big glass windows. it was beautiful.

“you can go roam around while i set our food inside the fridge.” heeseung says then kisses you at the head before heading to the kitchen.

your eyes wanders around with curiosity and admiration. everything looks expensive. your eyes darted at the table filled with picture frames. with full curiosity, your feet trudges closer.

“wow...” was the first word that came out from your mouth. you can see pictures of their family. his dad and mom. him and his older brother.

“cutie!” you exclaimed when you saw heeseung’s baby picture. he does resembles him that you can tell right away that it was him.

your smiling ear to ear then fished your phone to take a snap of that pic. after getting satisfied with your shots, you slowly head over the small balcony where you can see the lake.

“wow, its so refreshing.” you mumble under your breath then leaned over the railings, letting the wind blow onto you.

you jolted when a pair of arms wrapped over your waist. “enjoying the view?”

“y-yes.”

heeseung kisses your cheeks then place his chin on your shoulder. the two of you admired the view while holding that position. the breeze is kind of cold, but heeseung’s hug kept you warm.

“do you want to walk around for a bit before we start dinner?” he asks then finally pulls away.

your eyes sparkles, “yes!”

he chuckles, finding you adorable then leans down. “give me a kiss first.”

your cheeks blushed then blinked twice. the two of your stares at each other for a while until you decided to give in to his request. a big satisfied smile spread across his handsome face then stand back up.

“let’s go.” and he intertwined your fingers.

looking at the lake in a much nearer distance gave you comfort and peace. you never thought watching the soft currence while holding heeseung’s warm hands can make your heart race.

“do you know when i started liking you?” heeseung breaks the silence.

you craned your neck to glance at him, eyes flashing curiosity. “when?”

he stares at your for a while before chuckling lightly then pinching your cheeks.

“you look adorable, but i have to resist. come on, try to guess.”

his compliment and how he said that using his softest tone soothes something in your heart. it made you blush instantly. despite all of it, you tried to guess like how he requested.

“when you started this thing with me?” that was the first one that came in your mind.

you barely remember any interaction with lee heeseung before all of this.

his brows narrowed, “this thing?” he sighs. “relationship, angel. that’s how you call it properly.” he says using a salty tone.

you chuckled and just nods as acknowledgement. he kept his stares, his eyes returning to being gentle and full of affection. a small genuine smile then appears over his lips.

heeseung’s out of words to describe how precious you are for him. he’s usually good on saying the things he wanted to say, but with you his thoughts are starting to be messed up. there’s just so much he wanted to say yet he don’t know where to start.

“it was on seventh grade.” he stated that made your lips gap.

7th grade? but you’re already on eleventh grade. still surprised, you cannot say anything.

“during that time i experienced my first loss. it may be nothing for a normal high-school kid, but for someone who comes from a perfectionist family who doesn’t accept defeat, it is a pretty big deal.”

instantly, you feel slightly bad. of course, you’ve heard about his family. they are pretty strict when it comes to him. maybe that’s why he’s very reserved because he has no time for failure. they’ve put too much pressure on him.

your free hand extends and travels from his arm towards his neck, up to his face. slowly, he relaxes to your touch.

“i remember feeling so worthless while staring blankly at my silver medal.” he resumes telling you the story.

“while i stare with despair at it, already imagining the disappointed look from my father, someone approaches me.” he stops.

“guess who?” he smirks. “i'll give you a clue.” then smirk grew wider.

“she’s very pretty and currently holding me softly right now.”

“me?” you wonder.

he nods. “you were pretty amazed at my silver medal.” he states, a big smile on his face now.

just the emotion he was showing was enough to tell how delighted he is by reminiscing that moment.

“i was actually annoyed at first because i thought you were mocking me.” he chuckled and you pout jokingly.

“hey, you’re so judgemental.”

he shrugs his shoulders. “can’t blame me, angel. i was still very introverted that time.”

“you’re still a little introvert now.”

he cocked his eyebrow and you did the same thing, staring back. that made him chuckle.

“okay, maybe you’re right.” he surrenders then drop a kiss on your forehead.

“and then what happened?” you curiously asked.

he smiled. “then i told you harshly that what’s so great for second place?” he continued.

you grow silent then tries hard to recall the memory.

“and then you said,” you glanced at him, eyes starting to water a bit.

“that there’s nothing wrong with being second place. that it doesn’t mean that you failed or you didn’t won. that instead of being sad, you should take it as a chance to become better. that it only means you still have a room to grow.” you finished it that made him smile.

“right...”

“hee...” eyes brimming with tears already. “that was years ago.” you stated, couldn’t believe that he started to get interested that time.

his eyes dropped at your intertwined hand and he raised it to gently place a kiss on top of it.

“hee...” you mumbled again, this time voice cracking a little.

he smiles, “sorry if we approached you the wrong way. we just really don’t know what to do.” his eyes sparkles, getting a bit teary as well.

“i-it’s okay... i didn’t know.”

he chuckles, “obviously. you’re too dense to notice.”

“hey!” you playfully shoot him glares that he just laughed at before leaning in to give you a kiss.

the two of you stared at each other affectionately, enough to communicate what your hearts wants to tell one another.

“i know that with all the responsibilities and the expectation from your parents, it felt heavy. like you feel that you can’t be flawed.” you started.

“but for me you’re just perfect the way you are. with your achievements and failures.” those words tugs his heartstrings, a tear escaping his eye.

the moment you two steps inside the vacation house, heeseung’s lips are attached to you. his kisses are gentle yet passionate. his hands holds you closely to his hot body.

his kisses moves from your lips, down to your chin then neck making sure to suck on your skin making you moan, fingers tangled on his hair.

he slid his arm over your legs then carries you towards the bedroom. he went back to your lips and kisses you once again.

he gently placed you on the bed hovering above you, his hand starting to remove your clothes. and you let him.

when he pulls away, you try to even chase him that made him chuckle.

“wait, angel. i’ll just remove my clothes.”

your eyes trailed down his now erect member.

“d-do you want me to...?”

he smiles then shakes his head, “no. today, its just about you.”

then he kisses you again, resuming on discarding every clothing that you still have on you. once fully unclothed, he positions himself in front of you. he started rubbing his head on your now wet core.

your brows narrowed and whimpers sexily.

“i’ll go in now, okay?” he glanced at you and a nod is all you gave him.

and while your eyes staring back at each other, heeseung pushes his dick inside. the stretch feels so good, his thick cock making you moan his name. it made him satisfied, hearing you getting comfortable on letting out your moans.

“that’s right, let me hear you.” he whispered then pinned your hand on the sides, intertwining his fingers to yours.

he lets you get more comfortable with having him inside and connects his lips on yours again, couldn’t get enough of your lips. his tongue pushes in, wanting to taste every insides of your mouth.

when he started to move, your head starts to get blank. nothing inside but the man above you and making you feel this good.

he slides in and out. starting with a slow pace then going faster. he thrusts deep and fast sending so much pleasure.

“heeseung...” you moaned after his lips moves away.

“i love you, angel.” he suddenly said that made your heart jumped. you didn’t have the chance to say anything as he leans in for a peck.

“i love you so damn much.” and then start thrusting even faster.

“i...” you pursed your lips, eyes shuts as the pleasure from his dick takes away your ability to think and speak properly.

“i..” you attempted again, opening your eyes so you can look at his pretty face.

“love you too...” you finally finished it.

heeseung’s heart thumped faster and he fucked you even harder. he smiles and leans in for another heated kiss. he loves and adore you.

he continues drilling his cock inside until he felt you tightening around him, indicating the approaching release. he kisses your chin.

“cumming for me, angel?”

you open your mouth, “yes. feel so good.”

he smirks, “i know. pussy so good for me.” and then he rut his cock deeper.

“i’m cumming too..” he announces, feeling the knot on his stomach.

“cum with me.” he orders then attach his lips before going rapidly.

not long after you came around heeseung then he filled you with his hot cum. he pulls away to look at your fucked out face, brushing off some hair. he smiles.

“i love you.” he whispers, still going in and out but in a slower pace. riding both your highs.

you opened your eyes and reaches for his face. this time, you lift your head to give him a sweet kiss with a smile on your face. then you laid back down, staring lovingly at him.

his thrust starts to go faster again and a playful smirk spreads across his handsome face, some of his hairs sticks on his forehead due to sweat.

“round two, angel.” and then you let out a whimper from both pleasure and overstimulation.

the two of you spent the rest of the time just going for each other. heeseung making sure you felt how special you are for him.

lee heeseung is scared of failing. always aiming to be the best and to be perfect. he’s too obsessed on pleasing his parents to the point that he almost lose himself. but with you, he felt at ease. he felt safe and confident knowing that despite all his flaws and just being his true self, he’s still admirable.

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mssishipi · 1 month ago

Text

taste of indulgence - sjy, pjs

CHAPTER 1 — SO BITTER

Getting invited into bed with two insanely hot guys? A dream come true. Sim Jaeyun is everything you’ve ever fantasized about—soft, sweet, impossible to resist. And his boyfriend? Park Jongseong is the perfect mix of manly, dominant, and dangerously addictive.

So when they invited you to join their bed activities, you can't argue to say no despite of your situation. Who could blame you? They're insanely sexy and they're the ones insisting. They want you there. So why the hell is Jay acting so bitter about it?

warning: everyone is either gay or fruity, bi! jake, bi! jay, pansexual! reader, brief mention of: fxf, scissoring, open relationship, threesome (heeseung and his gf x reader). reader having a hard time enjoying actual sex, so reader masturbate like a man, she's so sexually deprived that she uses everything to get off, reader thirsting over jake, jealous angry jay.

explicit content ahead (smut): masturbation, threesome (switch jake, dom jay x sub reader), anal sex (mxm), fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, dacryphilia, overstimulation, choking, pussy slapping, squirting, pain kink?, unprotected sex, throat fucking, dubcon-ish, biting, rough mean jay, MDNI. WC: 15.7K

want a taste?

You are so frustrated.

Why does sex feel amazing for everyone except you?

It's not like you don't know what it's supposed to feel like. You've read books, watched porn, listened to your friends rave about their latest hookups. They make it sound euphoric—breathless moans, trembling legs, mind-numbing pleasure. And yet, for you? Nothing.

Your first time was a disaster. The foreplay—if you could even call it that—was pitiful. The stretch burned. It hurt. It hurt so much that you ghosted the guy afterward, deleting his number like he was nothing more than a bad memory. Because that's all he was. A mistake.

Maybe it was him. Maybe he was just bad at it. So you tried again, this time with someone older, more experienced. Surely he would know what to do. But no—it was the same damn thing. They couldn't get you off. It hurt. It burned. And worst of all? It was boring. Uncomfortable, frustrating, infuriating.

You sit there, listening to your friends gush about their wild sex lives, their earth-shattering orgasms, and you can't help but hate them a little. It's not fair. It's not normal.

Is it a you problem?

You tried something different. A woman. Maybe men just weren't built to handle you.

And at first, it was better. You liked touching her, liked making her feel good, liked watching her body shudder under your hands. But when it came to you? The same damn problem. The moment she touched you, it was like your body refused to respond. Even scissoring just felt like raw friction, nothing more than skin dragging against skin. It burned. It always burns.

You're so envious of others—for actually enjoying sex, for having partners who know how to touch them.

Meanwhile, you're stuck in your room, watching porn, getting yourself off because no one else ever gets it right. No one knows your body like you do.

You've spent night after night touching yourself, pushing your limits, exploring kinks you never even knew you had. Your vibrator's been through hell—drained, recharged, drained again—because you can't get enough of the pleasure it sends coursing through you.

Six times in a single night, and it's still not enough. It never is.

You're pathetic, aren't you? Masturbating like some desperate, sex-starved pervert. Plunging your fingers deep inside yourself, chasing the high that no real partner has ever been able to give you. Watching porn, imagining yourself in the girl's place—wishing it was you being touched like that, fucked like that, worshiped like that.

And after nearly a year of searching, experimenting, you've realized something. You cum the hardest when you watch groups. Threesomes, foursomes, full-blown orgies—bodies tangled together, hands everywhere, mouths everywhere. The way they touch each other, pay attention to every inch of skin, despite the numbers.

So, you decided to bring that into real life.

You replied to a guy looking for a one-time hookup with his girlfriend—a birthday gift for her, he said. It sounded perfect.

You told them it was your first time, and the three of you set some ground rules. He guided you gently, his fingers threading through your hair as you ate his girlfriend out. She was beautiful, and you loved every second of making her moan, feeling her thighs tremble beneath your tongue.

It soaked you. This was what you wanted. Giving them what they wanted. Letting him use your throat, over and over, watching him fuck his girlfriend while you licked her clit. That was the turn-on.

But then, his fingers slipped inside you. His girlfriend kissed you, her lips soft, her words so comforting. And yet— It burns.

You winced, tried to relax, but it was useless. That familiar, infuriating discomfort crept in again, killing whatever arousal you had.

You pulled away, forcing a smile, telling them to keep going, that it was okay if they didn't focus on you. Because you didn't need it. They were your type—both of them, so hot, so eager. You loved watching them touch each other. You loved licking his balls while he fucked her, loved playing with her breasts, pinching her clit.

Your pussy clenched at nothing while you watched her fall apart on his dick, her face blissed out in pleasure you knew you'd never feel.

And just like that, frustration settled deep in your gut.

Maybe sex just isn't for you. Maybe it never was. And maybe, at some point, you'll have to accept it.

But damn, you're jealous.

"Awww, they're so cute! Look at them holding hands!"

Wonyoung's voice practically drips with excitement as she nudges you, her perfectly manicured finger pointing toward the entrance of the café.

You follow her gaze, eyes landing on the two men walking in. Their hands are loosely intertwined, their strides in sync.

The shorter one has a face that's both sharp and soft, his jawline well-defined yet not too harsh, his high cheekbones giving him an almost ethereal look. His eyes—warm and expressive—contrast with the straight line of his nose and the fullness of his lips, God, what a handsome man.

The taller man, in contrast, carries a striking, almost intimidating presence. His facial structure is all sharp angles and strong lines—high cheekbones, a prominent nose bridge, a jawline - a sharp 120 degrees jawline.

You raise a brow, turning back to Wonyoung. "What's with them?"

"Nothing!" she chirps, grinning as she watches them take a seat. "It's just refreshing to see bro luh bro together."

You snort. You steal another glance at the pair. The shorter one is laughing now, dimples peeking out as he leans in, nudging the taller man playfully.

Sunoo arrives, setting down a tray with all of your orders. He follows your gaze, his own eyes landing on the two men.

"Oh, Jake and Jay?" he says, voice dropping slightly.

Wonyoung perks up immediately. "You know them?"

Sunoo plops down beside you, nodding as he starts distributing drinks. "Yeah, Jay's our club president. Never thought they'd are together, though. I mean—" He pauses, lowering his voice slightly. "They sound so straight."

Your eyebrows shoot up, and Wonyoung lets out an exaggerated gasp. "No way," she drawls, glancing back at them with renewed interest.

"Swear," Sunoo says, holding up a hand like he's making a vow. "Back in highschool, Jake always had that... golden retriever energy, y'know? Friendly, flirty, kinda dumb in a cute way. But Jay?" He scoffs.

"Jay was the heartbreaker. Like, he had this whole nonchalant thing going on—cool, detached, gave just enough attention to make a girl fall for him, then disappeared a week later. Maybe that was just his denial phase."

"And now they're holding hands in a café," Wonyoung muses, poking at the ice in her drink with her straw. "Everyone is being gay right now."

Sunoo hums in agreement, shrugging. "Yeah, because life is better when you're gay."

You huff out a quiet laugh, finally reaching for your drink. "Oh, you got matcha, right?" Sunoo asks, sliding the cup toward you.

You nod, mumbling a quick thanks, but your mind is barely in the conversation anymore. Your attention keeps slipping, your eyes betraying you as they flick back—again and again—to the couple sitting at the other table.

Because—if you're being honest—you've thought the Jake guy was attractive from the moment he walked in.

Sunoo and Wonyoung have moved on, their conversation shifting into casual university gossip, but their words barely register. Your focus is locked on Jake, on the way he sits, leaning slightly forward, lazily twirling his pen between those long fingers as he writes something down in a notebook. He says something to his boyfriend, smiling as he does.

That smile. Those lips. Plump. Soft-looking, the kind that part just enough to reveal a glimpse of teeth when he grins. The kind that would feel so—

You bite down on your straw.

No. Nope. You are not thirsting over a man who very obviously has a boyfriend.

And yet—your gaze drifts lower, down to his hands. His hands.

Slender, long fingers, veins subtly running beneath his skin. Knuckles slightly prominent as he flexes them, tapping his pen absentmindedly against the page. You swallow hard, mind spiraling down a path you know you shouldn't be going down, but fuck, you can't help it.

Those hands—how would they feel against your skin? Pressing against your thighs, spreading you open? Fingers sinking deep, stretching you just right? The thought alone sends a pulse of heat straight between your legs.

And his nose—fuck, his nose.

It's perfect. Straight, slightly defined at the bridge, the kind of nose that was made to be sat on. Your breath hitches as a vivid image flashes through your mind—his face buried between your legs, that perfect nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out. You imagine his hands gripping your hips, holding you down as you ride his face, your fingers tangled in his hair, your moans breathy and desperate as you grind against him.

Would it actually feel as good as it looks in porn? You wouldn't know. But it doesn't hurt to imagine, right?

You shift in your seat, heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Your foot taps anxiously against the floor, your thighs pressing together, trying desperately to ignore the growing ache between them.

But just as you force your gaze down, trying to pull yourself out of your own head, a chill runs through you.

You feel it before you see it. Slowly, hesitantly, you glance back up—only to lock eyes with Jay.

Fuck.

He's looking right at you, his brow raises just slightly, like he knows exactly what you were thinking.

Your breath catches in your throat. Panic sets in, and you immediately tear your gaze away, heart hammering as you stare down at your drink.

Great. Just great. Not only are your panties soaked, but now you've got a pissed-off boyfriend glaring at you.

You don't even make it five minutes before bolting.

Some half-assed excuse—an emergency, you tell them, whatever the hell that means—and then you're gone. Practically fleeing back to your dorm, heart hammering, skin burning with embarrassment.

The second you step inside, you lock the door, press your back against it, and let out a shaky breath. You strip any piece of your clothing and went to the bathroom, turning on the water.

The shower is scalding but it does nothing to wash away the lingering heat in your core. You scrub your skin, try to shake off the feeling of want, but it clings to you.

Even after, sitting on the toilet in just your towel, your legs still feel weak. Your mind won't shut up, replaying the way Jake looked, the way Jay looked at you.

You feel so guilty.

But it's not like you actually did anything, right? You were just looking. It's not a crime to look. You tell yourself that over and over, forcing the thought down, gaslighting yourself into believing it.

It's normal. Completely normal. You just found him attractive. That's all. Then why does it feel so wrong?

Your fingers twitch against your thigh. Your whole body is tense, wound up tight, frustration eating you alive.

You don't think. You just act. Your hand reaches for the bidet, adjusting the angle, fingers trembling as the cold metal rests against your skin.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as the water pulses against your clit, and your head tips back, shame curling tight in your stomach. You shouldn't be doing this. You know that.

But you can't stop. You're so pathetic.

Since it was your third year, the number of students had dwindled. Some had transferred to different courses, others had dropped out entirely, victims of whatever existential crisis they were facing. It was just the reality of being a college student.

The college retreat finally arrived, and you placed your bag in the train's storage before settling into your seat. Sunoo, already making himself comfortable beside you, had an eye mask covering his eyes and was snoring before the train even began to move.

You sighed, sinking into your seat, plugging in your wired headphones to drown out the chatter around you. As music filled your ears, you scrolled through your phone. Your gaze drifted downward, watching your foot tap lightly against the floor in time with the beat—until something small thumped against it.

A small bag. Frowning, you pulled out one earbud, wincing at the slight tug.

"Be careful, babe," a voice said. You looked up just in time to see Jay reaching down for the bag at your feet.

"I'm sorry," Jake murmured. The moment your eyes met his, your entire body froze.

You couldn't speak. Couldn't even move. Jay straightened, holding the bag, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. Jake, oblivious, apologized again before walking off.

But Jay? He didn't move right away. He looked at you one last time before turning to follow Jake.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry.

Slowly, you put your headphones back in, forcing yourself to relax against your seat.

Why the fuck is it so hard not to look at him? Who could blame you, though? They were your batchmates, your classmates, and you hadn't even realized you shared the same major until now. And they were so close.

And so fucking hot.

Both of them were, to be fair. But Jay was the one who would kill you with his angry glares.

Your foot taps anxiously against the ground, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you fight the urge to glance over again. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. But you do.

Across the room, your colleagues erupt into cheers, celebrating another round of drinks, but their voices fade into the background. You try—try—to engage, to smile, to socialize like a normal person, but your gaze keeps betraying you, flickering back to them.

Jake looks so happy. His face is flushed, his glasses fogging slightly from the heat of the room and the alcohol in his system. His smile is soft, a little lazy, dimples appearing as he giggles at something Jay mutters in his ear. He's a lightweight, that much is clear, and the alcohol is making him affectionate—leaning into Jay's shoulder, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of his boyfriend's sleeve.

Jay is the complete opposite—calm, composed, sipping his drink with effortless elegance. He barely reacts as Jake presses closer, only tilting his head slightly, allowing him to rest against him. His fingers lazily ghost over Jake's knee, a silent acknowledgment, a small show of possession.

Your stomach tightens. Your mind wanders, slipping into dangerous territory, conjuring images you should not be entertaining.

Is Jake a bottom? Or is he a top?

No—no way. Look at him. He's so soft, so giggly, so touchy. If you had to bet, you'd say he's the kind of guy who'd melt under the right hands, who'd whimper when teased, who'd take it so well—

Your breath catches. Fuck.

And Jay—fuck, Jay is so manly. So effortlessly dominant. He doesn't even have to do anything, and yet he owns every space he's in. You can only imagine what he's like behind closed doors, when there's no one around to see—except Jake.

What does Jake sound like when he moans? Would his voice be high, needy? Would he gasp, or would he whimper? Would Jay be rough with him? Would he tease him, make him beg, make him squirm?

Would he— You squeeze your thighs together under the table, your nails pressing into your palms.

You need to stop.

"I need some fresh air," you blurt out, standing a little too fast, the chair scraping against the floor as you push back from the table. Sunoo barely acknowledge your sudden departure, too wrapped up in their own conversations, and you're grateful for it.

You make a beeline for the exit, your cheeks burning, your pulse erratic. The moment you step outside, the night air rushes over you, cool against your heated skin.

You take a deep breath. Then another. The cabin's outdoor area is quiet, save for the rustling of tall trees and the distant hum of music from inside. The air is fresh, crisp, but it does little to cool the wrong kind of heat pooling in your stomach.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, slapping your cheeks lightly, trying to shake yourself back to reality.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Is this how dry you are? Years of masturbating, of getting off alone, of chasing something that never quite hits—has it really reduced you to this? To thirsting over a taken man like some desperate, pathetic slut?

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. You march aimlessly in circles, feet pressing against the dirt path, trying to ground yourself—trying to shake the images still burning in your mind. You need to behave. Your pussy needs to behave.

After a while, you drop onto a wooden bench, pressing your palms against your knees, forcing yourself to breathe.

"Hey."

A voice startles you, and you whip around, heart nearly jumping out of your chest.

"Oh—Heeseung," you exhale, relaxing slightly when you see him standing there, hands in his pockets, the faint glow of the lights casting long shadows behind him.

He smirks. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"Inside, having fun with her friends." He steps closer, glancing at the empty space beside you. "Can I?"

You nod, shifting over to give him room.

He sighs as he sits, stretching his arms out along the back of the bench, tilting his head up to look at the sky. "Didn't think I'd see you out here alone."

"I needed a break," you say vaguely, not about to admit to the absolute filth running through your mind just minutes ago.

Lee Heeseung was the guy you met last summer—a music major with a healthy, happy open relationship with his girlfriend. You had joined them for one encounter, though nothing more came of it. After that, you stayed mutuals on social media, exchanging the occasional like or comment. His girlfriend, however had a habit of slipping into your DMs with suggestive messages, playful and teasing, making you chuckle every time.

"She misses you," he started, looking at you. "She was kind of disappointed, waking up and realizing you leave without cumming, telling me I'm such an asshole." He laughed, "well, maybe I was. I'm sorry."

You blink. Then, shaking your head, you wave a hand dismissively. "No, don't feel bad! It was a wonderful experience."

"You guys were amazing," you continue, turning to meet his gaze. "I loved watching you two, letting you use me, but I wasn't expecting anything. Seriously, don't feel guilty. I wanted to focus on her—on making her feel good."

Heeseung watches you for a beat, his lips curling slightly before he exhales, stretching his arms again along the back of the bench. "Ahh, I'm so glad I picked you." His tone is light, teasing. "You're really considerate, you know that?"

You shrug, grinning. "What can I say? I have a talent for that."

He laughs, shaking his head, but then his expression sobers slightly. "Still, I feel bad about that. I just thought—" He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. "That night, when you backed off... I figured touching you might've made you uncomfortable. I didn't wanna push it."

You blink. Oh. He thinks that's why?

"No!" you blurt, laughing, reaching out to slap his shoulder playfully. "It wasn't you, okay? That was totally a me issue."

Heeseung raises a brow, tilting his head. "What kind of issue?"

You hesitate. Do you tell him? It's not exactly something you go around sharing, but it's just the two of you out here. You think Heeseung has always been easy to talk to—never judgmental, just curious, open.

So, you sigh, deciding to just be honest. You tell him everything—how you get aroused easily, how your body wants it, craves it, but the moment someone actually touches you, it all goes wrong. How you can't seem to relax, how their touch feels too much, too uncomfortable. How it burns.

Heeseung listens, his brows furrowing slightly as he processes your words.

When you finish, he shifts, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Shit," he breathes, his voice softer now. "I—fuck, I'm sorry." His eyes widen, guilt flickering in them. "I—We tried to touch you. I slipped a finger inside. And you didn't say anything. I didn't even realize—"

You shake your head quickly, waving him off. "Don't feel bad."

"But it hurt," he says, like he's trying to wrap his head around it, his breath hitching slightly.

"Well, yeah," you admit, leaning back against the bench. "It burns."

Heeseung lets out a quiet, almost guilty laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fuck. I feel like such an asshole now."

"You're not," you assure him, nudging him with your knee. "Seriously. It's fine. I wanted to be there. I wanted to do that. And I did enjoy it—I loved watching you two." You flash him a grin. "Plus, your girlfriend? Hot as hell."

That makes him chuckle, shaking his head again. "She is, huh?" He glances at you, eyes softer now. "But... you? You didn't get anything out of it?"

You shrug, sighing. "That's just how it is for me, I guess."

There's a moment of silence between you, filled only by the distant hum of laughter and music from inside. Heeseung sits back again, stretching his legs out in front of him, staring up at the sky as if he's thinking.

"I'm actually here to convince you to do it again with us," Heeseung admits, rubbing a hand over his face awkwardly.

Your eyes widen. "What?"

He laughs, a little sheepishly. "Yeah—uh, she said I should probably, you know, lick you as a take-back and propose the idea of doing it again because the sex was so good." His grin turns teasing before he sighs, shaking his head. "But... I don't know. I've been thinking about it, considering your situation, and my conscience just can't take it."

You open your mouth, unsure of what to say. "I—I..." You hesitate, then finally admit, "Honestly? I would like to do it again with you guys. It was a good experience, and you were both so kind—"

"But," Heeseung interrupts, giving you a pointed look. "I don't want to do it again knowing that you're probably not enjoying it."

"Hey," you protest, frowning. "I said I enjoyed it."

Heeseung groans, slumping back against the bench. "Still."

You laugh at the sheer misery in his voice. "What, is your ego that fragile?"

He gives you a side-eye. "Yes. Absolutely."

You shake your head in amusement. "So... what now? You going to find someone else for your little proposition?"

Heeseung exhales dramatically, staring off into the distance. Then he shakes his head. "Nah." His gaze flickers back to you, lingering for a brief second before he smirks. "Damn, though—you and my girlfriend are such freaks in the best way. It's hard to find someone like that. Plus, you're sexy as fuck."

Your lips twitch, amused. "Oh?"

"And your gag reflex?" Heeseung groans, running a hand through his hair. "Impressive. I'd rate the blowjob five stars, easy."

You laugh, playfully flipping your hair over your shoulder. "Why, thank you."

"But," he sighs, dramatically placing a hand over his chest, "I'm letting you go."

You pout, exaggerating your disappointment. "Awww."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he says, waving you off. "I actually rehearsed a whole ass speech before coming over here, thinking I'd convince you to join us again —but honestly, I'd just be disappointing my girlfriend." He chuckles, shaking his head. "It's okay, though."

You exhale, feeling a strange mix of relief and... loss?

"I'm sorry," you murmur.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Heeseung says, more serious now. "Don't think I'm letting you go just because you can't get off. That's not the reason. I don't want you to be hurt, and well..." He pauses, his voice lowering slightly.

"There were... things my girlfriend and I discussed doing to you. But after hearing what you said, I don't think it'd be a good idea anymore."

You swallow, his words sinking in. Another experience, another opportunity taken away because of your body's refusal to cooperate.

Heeseung must see something in your face because he groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fuck, I feel so bad now. Can I make it up to you? Food? Something sweet for making you feel bad?"

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you look at him. "Is it okay if we kiss?"

Heeseung looks momentarily caught off guard, but then he shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

"Wait—doesn't this feel morally wrong? Like, cheating?"

He snorts. "You do know we fuck other people, right?" Heeseung raises a brow, amused. "Besides, she's the one who suggested I should eat your pussy as an apology."

You scrunch your nose. "Yeah, but I wouldn't enjoy it."

Heeseung clutches his chest, "Fuck—you don't have to say it like that. Even I can't please you, huh?"

You burst into laughter before leaning in, pressing your lips against his.

His hands immediately find your waist, gripping you firmly as he responds, lips parting slightly as he follows your lead. The heat between you builds quickly, the moment shifting as your fingers tangle in his hair.

You move, climbing onto his lap, your thighs pressing against his hips as his hands slide down, settling on the curve of your ass. His tongue flicks against yours, deepening the kiss, and he practically shoves it down your throat, savoring the moment and leaving a last impression.

And just a few feet away, standing unnoticed in the shadows beyond the cabin's back entrance, Jay remains completely still—leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. Watching. Listening.

You don't even remember how you ended up in bed that night. One moment, you were locked in a messy make-out session with Heeseung outside, and the next, you were back in the cabin, drink in hand, relieved to find that Jake and Jay were nowhere in sight.

You actually enjoyed drinking with everyone. Maybe because you had let out a problem that had been weighing on you. Maybe because there were no distractions around the circle—nothing tempting, nothing forbidden, nothing that made your skin burn with frustration.

Even Sunoo—who could usually outdrink everyone—ended up absolutely wasted.

A loud, piercing voice jerks you from unconsciousness.

"WAKE UP! EVERYONE GET READY FOR TODAY'S ACTIVITY!"

Your brain screams in protest, eyes squeezing shut as the harsh sunlight spills across your face. Around you, deep groans of agony echo through the cabin, everyone waking up in a collective hangover-induced suffering.

You stiffen, you felt something heavy weighing against you.

Blinking, you squint through the brightness—only to realize Sunoo is wrapped around your waist, his deep snores vibrating against your back. What the hell?

You tilt your head, glancing around groggily. Why are you in a room full of men? Several guys are already getting up, shuffling around in various stages of disarray, stretching, groaning, rubbing their faces in exhaustion.

Panic jolts through you as you slap Sunoo's arm. "Did you bring me here?!"

He winces, barely cracking one eye open before scowling and slapping your back in revenge. You groan at the sting.

"Both of us were drunk as fuck," he grumbles. "Do you really think I had the brainpower to take you to the right room?" He shifts, kicking off the blanket, pulling a pillow over his face.

"Agh, fuck, the seniors are so noisy," he groans, muffled. "Let me fucking sleep."

Your mouth falls open in disbelief. Then, you glance down at yourself. The blanket is covering most of your legs, but... something feels off.

A memory flashes through your mind—you and Sunoo, stumbling into the room last night, singing like idiots, collapsing into bed. You kicking off your pants because it felt too hot. Your stomach drops.

"Where are my fucking pants?" you whisper harshly, panic creeping in as you glance around. Other guys are groggily stretching, pulling on hoodies, running hands through messy hair, and you suddenly want to die.

"Uh... hey," a familiar voice calls.

You freeze. Slowly, hesitantly, you turn your head. And immediately wish you hadn't.

"Is this yours?" Jake stands a few feet away, holding your pants. But that's not the problem.

The problem is that he's shirtless, fresh water dripping from his hair, rolling down his bare shoulders, glistening over his defined chest and abs— Don't look lower. Don't look lower.

Oh, fuck, those abs.

"Y-Yes!" you blurt, scrambling to sit up. "Thank you!"

You practically launch yourself off the bed, tripping over the blanket as you grab your pants from his hand. Your fingers brush against his slightly—warm, damp from his shower—and your entire body locks up.

Jake just grins at your flustered state. "Rough night?" he asks, amused.

You don't answer. You can't. Your face is burning, your thoughts spiraling, and the only thing that matters is getting the fuck out of there.

You mumble a quick, "Thanks," grabbing your pants with shaky fingers. Turning away, you hurriedly step into them, nearly tripping in your rush to cover yourself. Your hands fumble with the waistband as you stumble toward the door.

You don't look back. You don't see the way Jay's gaze follows you. The way his eyes drag down your body, your ass, the way his fingers twitch, his knuckles flexing as his grip tightens.

A scoff breaks the silence. "Enjoy flirting with that girl?"

Jay leans back against the bedframe, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes flick toward Jake, who is casually applying lotion to his arms, completely unbothered.

Jake doesn't even glance up. "Everything is such a big deal to you."

"Yeah," Jay mutters, his jaw tightening, "because you know she wants to fuck you. And you just gave her a reason to touch herself thinking about you." His voice is flat and bitter. "Do you want to fuck her?"

Jake lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at Jay's possessiveness.

Then, without warning, he leans forward, pressing in close, his lips brushing against Jay's ear as he murmurs, "Come on... don't pretend you don't want to fuck her too."

You hear Sunoo grunt beside you as everyone gathers in a large circle for today's activity. Your shoulders sink slightly—there are too many people, too much noise, and the closeness makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

Before you can dwell on it, someone calls your name.

Heeseung's girlfriend appears beside you, slipping her arm through yours. Heeseung follows a step behind, hands in his pockets, watching the two of you with mild amusement.

Conversation flows naturally between the three of you. She's playful, teasing, and when the moment strikes, she leans in to press a quick kiss to your cheek before Heeseung pulls her away with a laugh, shaking his head.

You huff out a chuckle, shaking off the flustered warmth lingering on your face. The fresh air feels nice, even with Sunoo rambling beside you, half-awake and barely filtering his thoughts.

"There's some dirt in your hair."

You pause, caught off guard by the voice behind you. You blink at Jay as he gestures vaguely toward your head. Your fingers immediately reach up, brushing through your hair, searching for whatever he's talking about.

Before you can find it, another voice cuts in.

"Can't get off?"

Your eyes snap to Jake, heartbeat stuttering.

Sunoo frowns beside you. "What?"

Jake grins. "I mean—you can't get it off." He reaches out, plucking something from your hair—a small leaf—and twirls it between his fingers before letting it drop. He and Jay don't wait for a response. They just turn, walking off, their presence fading into the crowd.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Sunoo clicks his tongue, slipping his hand into yours as he pulls you along. "What's wrong with them?"

The activity is divided into groups, and you've been paired with your colleagues. The rules are simple: win the games, and your team gets to decide what food to eat. With everyone desperate for a good meal, the competition turns chaotic.

The entire field is a mess—people running, yelling, tackling each other for flags. You and Sunoo are no exception, darting up and down the hill, breathless and determined.

"I fucking want some steak!" you scream, gripping the colored flag in your hands like your life depends on it.

Behind you, Sunoo is just as wild, holding onto another flag. "We are not eating instant noodles again!" he howls, voice cracking mid-sentence.

But just as victory feels within reach, another group surges past, shrieking in triumph.

Your stomach drops as you watch them hoist their flags in the air, the whistle blowing to signal their win.

Gravity betrays you. You and Sunoo crash to the ground, tumbling into a heap, dirt and grass sticking to your clothes. You groan, lying there for a moment, staring up at the sky in defeat.

"Goddamn it," Sunoo mutters. "I wanted seafood."

A hand appears in your vision. Someone is helping you up. You grab hold, letting yourself be pulled to your feet. "But I wanted steak," you whisper, still eyeing the victorious group with bitter jealousy.

A soft chuckle sounds behind you. "Must be frustrating."

Your brows furrow. You turn, only to find Jake standing there, hands lazily tucked into his pockets, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes.

"What?" you ask, confused.

He takes a step closer, reaching out. His fingers barely brush your shoulder as he tugs off a piece of dirt clinging to your shirt.

Then, he leans in—just slightly, just enough for only you to hear— "Never getting what you want."

Your body tenses, a shiver running down your spine. Because no fucking way—this isn't about the game.

Your mind races, trying to make sense of it.

You stay in the shower longer than you should, the hot water running over your skin, but doing nothing to wash away the unease settling in your chest. Some of the other girls have already finished, wrapping themselves in towels, chatting about the day's activities. A few glance your way, concern flickering across their faces.

"Are you okay?" one of them asks. You don't answer. You just stand there, naked, staring at the tiled floor, your hands limp at your sides.

"Can't get off?"

"Must be frustrating, never getting what you want."

A chill runs down your spine. Jake's words loop in your head, over and over, like an echo you can't shake off.

Your brain scrambles, piecing together every interaction—every weird moment leading up to this. First of all, you don't even know Jake. One day, you were just thirsting over him from a distance, admiring him like some campus crush. Your second interaction—if you could even call it that—was when he dropped his bag in front of you. No words exchanged, just a moment of awkward eye contact before he walked away.

Then last night—when you looked at him again, when you got caught looking. By his boyfriend, Jay.

And then? The sudden shift. The randomness of it all. Why did Jake start talking to you out of nowhere? Could it be because of the pants? The morning embarrassment? But no—his comments weren't just casual teasing. They were pointed. Suggestive. And worst of all, relatable.

Your stomach twists. Your mind flashes back to last night.

You had stepped out for fresh air. You had talked to Heeseung. You make out with him. And when you went back inside— Jay and Jake were gone.

Your breath hitches.

Fuck.

Your hand grips your hair, heart pounding. Could they know? No. No way. That's impossible. Right?

Three more days, and the retreat would be over.

If Jake and Jay knew, then all you had to do was avoid them until you got back to campus. No unnecessary conversations, no eye contact, no chance for them to slip more suggestive comments into your ears and make your skin crawl.

It was the last night of the retreat, the final stretch before you could return to normal life.

The final activity was a mountain climb. The goal was simple—make it to the top and back before 8 o'clock. But the moment the seniors announced it, you just stood there, dumbfounded. What the actual fuck were they thinking?

Sure, a hike sounded fun in theory, but at night? In an unfamiliar area? Terrible idea. Most of the students murmured in protest, some even flat-out refusing, but somehow, you ended up participating. Why? Because Sunoo, your only companion in this nightmare, begged you to come along, promising that he wouldn't survive without you.

Now, with each step up the steep incline, you're regretting it.

"We need to go back down soon," you huff, pausing to catch your breath. "Before the sun sets. I don't trust the seniors—they're probably planning some shit."

Sunoo, hunched over beside you, dramatically clutches his chest. "What?! Can you just— give me five minutes to breathe?" He whines, panting. You roll your eyes but grab his wrist anyway, tugging him forward. "Come on. I have a bad feeling about this."

While walking in the middle of the forest to go down, both of you stop when you hear a scream. Not just any scream—bloodcurdling, echoing through the trees, sending a violent shiver all through your body.

Your body stiffens. "What the fuck was that?"

Sunoo barely has time to respond before more sounds erupt—heavy footsteps, frantic rustling, the unmistakable pounding of people running.

The flashlights around the area flicker out, plunging everything into a suffocating black void.

Your breath catches. "No, no, no—"

Sunoo grabs your wrist. "Run."

You don't question it. The two of you bolt, feet crashing against the uneven ground, dodging low branches, blindly navigating the terrain. You don't even know what you're running from—only that fear is thrumming through your veins, keeping your legs moving.

In the middle of running, in the darkness, your grip on Sunoo slips.

"Sunoo?!" You gasp, stumbling as you lose sight of him.

"Keep running!" You heard him shout, but his voice are distant.

You're alone.

Heart hammering, you stagger forward, breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Your legs are aching, your hands trembling as you reach out blindly, searching for stability.

Finally, your fingers brush against rough bark. A tree. You collapse against it, sinking down to the ground, your back pressing into the trunk as you try to calm the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

The silence around you is deafening. You close your eyes, stabilizing your breath when you heard a twig snaps.

Your eyes fly open, and panic takes over. A scream tears from your throat as you kick out wildly, scrambling backward, heart hammering in your ears but a hand clamps over your mouth.

"Shhh," a hushed voice murmurs against your ear, warm breath ghosting over your skin. "Unless you want the seniors to hear and make fun of you more."

The low timbre sends a shiver down your spine. A firm arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against something solid and warm.

You tilt your head, catching a glimpse of soft curls, of a lazy, curling smirk beneath the dim glow of the moonlight.

Jake. His scent is so close—clean, a little woody. It makes your head feel light, makes your thoughts blur at the edges. And his eyes—fuck, his eyes. Dark, glinting, lashes so long.

Your throat tightens. With a sharp breath, you yank his hand away from your mouth, coughing as you shift awkwardly in his hold. "W-What?"

Jake grins. "Relax. The seniors are just scaring the juniors. That's the 'big activity.'"

You scowl, turning your head away. "I know that."

He laughs, low and amused. Then, before you can react, he tugs you down beside him, making you squeal.

"Why are you so awkward?" he teases, settling back against the tree trunk, looking at you like he's enjoying every second of this. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You swallow, shifting uncomfortably. "You have a boyfriend."

"And yet," he murmurs, leaning in slightly, "you keep staring at me like I don't."

Your body reacts before you can stop it, thighs pressing together instinctively at the way his voice drops, at the heat curling in his gaze.

"T-That's micro-cheating," you whisper, trying to steady your voice. You pressed your hand around his chest, stopping him from getting any closer.

Jake chuckles. "It's not—" he leans in, his nose grazing your cheek, his breath fanning over your skin, "—when he's aware of it."

Your eyes widen, lips parting in shock just as his tongue flicks against your earlobe. A sharp, involuntary sigh escapes you, your body shuddering at the sensation.

He smirks. "Sensitive?"

"S-Stop," you stammer, hands pressing against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.

But Jake doesn't budge. Instead, he pouts—actually pouts—his fingers curling around your wrist, gently prying your grip from his shirt. "Why? Don't you want me?" His voice is teasing.

"I know you've participated in threesomes." Your breath catches at his bold statement.

"I'm just interested in you joining us," he continues, his tone light, almost casual, like he's suggesting something as simple as grabbing a coffee.

Your thighs press together. Because fuck—fuck, it's too easy to imagine it. Two mouths. Two bodies. Two dicks.

The kind of scenario you've watched over and over in the videos you get off to. The kind of scenario that should have you saying yes without hesitation.

But then you remember. His words from the past few days. The suggestive phrases, you felt that he was toying with something deeply personal to you.

Your arousal sours, replaced by a dull ache of frustration. You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, to focus. "I know that you also know my situation."

Jake tilts his head slightly, curious about where you're going with this.

Your voice hardens. "I'm not the girl you're looking for. Yes, you're hot. Your boyfriend too. But—" You swallow thickly, fingers curling. "Do you think it's a little insensitive of you?"

His brows lift, you take a steadying breath. "I got turned down from experiencing a threesome because of my issue." The words taste bitter on your tongue, resentment creeping in despite yourself. "So what makes you think this would be any different?"

Jake stays quiet for a moment. His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist but the teasing glint in his eyes has dimmed slightly. Not completely gone—just softened, like he's listening now.

You use the moment to pull your hand free and leave him alone, despite of being scared in the dark.

The next morning, as you pack your things, your mood is bitter. Sunoo notices immediately but doesn't press, only throwing you occasional glances as he folds his clothes into his bag.

By the time you're on the train, settled into your seat, the frustration inside you has only grown. You stare out the window, thoughts spiraling, the rhythmic movement of the train doing nothing to calm you down.

Sunoo, beside you, nudges your arm gently. "Is it because I left you alone?" His voice is small, pouting as he holds your hand.

You blink, turning to him briefly before exhaling a heavy sigh. "God, no."

"Then what?"

You lean back against the seat, rubbing your temple. "I'm just... frustrated."

Sunoo raises an eyebrow. "Frustrated about what?"

You don't answer immediately, pressing your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you avoid his gaze.

"Frustrated about everything," you murmur, voice low, more to yourself than to him.

Sunoo watches you for a moment before sighing, deciding to let it go.

But your mind doesn't. You think about it. Threesomes are the best. You love everything about them—the attention, the pleasure, the thrill of being used by more than one person at once. You've spent countless nights fantasizing about being sandwiched between two bodies, your moans muffled against warm skin, hands gripping your thighs, your body bent and spread, completely taken.

The thought alone makes your stomach tighten. But, what's the point if your body refuses to cooperate? If every touch that should send you over the edge instead makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out?

And come on—you know yourself. You don't want to put yourself in a situation where you'll just end up jealous again, where you'll watch pleasure unfold before you and be left with nothing but your own frustration.

You made the right choice. You should praise yourself for finally prioritizing your mental health this time. Because you know how this ends. A wet-ass pussy left hanging, again and again, with no relief.

"You're really dumb," Jay sighs in frustration, rubbing his face with his palm. His other hand rests on his waist as he stares at his boyfriend, unimpressed.

"Now, how are you supposed to convince that girl, huh? You scared her off."

Jake shrugs, unbothered. "Maybe you should go talk to her."

Jay's eyes widen before he scoffs, laughing sarcastically. "No fucking way."

He feels Jake's presence, familiar arms snaking around his waist from behind, pulling him close in a lazy, comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry," Jake murmurs, resting his chin on Jay's shoulder. "I know you told me to give it more time, but I was excited to approach her. You know I've been looking for the perfect third, right?"

Jay huffs, rolling his eyes. "I still don't get why you want a threesome so bad." He pries Jake's arms off his waist, turning to face him. His jaw tightens as he stares at his boyfriend. "Am I not fucking you right?"

Jake chuckles, tilting his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, baby, you are—but that's not the point."

Jay crosses his arms, his annoyance growing. "Then what is the point?"

Jake shrugs, leaning casually against the table behind him. "I just want to add some spice. It's nothing personal—just something I'd like to try." He watches Jay carefully. "And I'm not forcing you, okay? If you don't want it, we don't have to. But you asked why, and I'm just telling you."

Jay lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair. Of course, Jake says it so easily, so casually, like it's not a big deal at all. But to Jay, it is.

He's pissed. Maybe even jealous. Because Jay is not the type of man who shares. He never has been. The thought of someone else touching what belongs to him—seeing Jake spread out, vulnerable, pleasured by someone else—sets something ugly and possessive twisting in his chest.

But then—fuck. Jake is looking at him with those big, innocent, doe eyes. His lower lip juts out, his brows lift slightly, and he tilts his head just enough to make himself look small, needy. And Jay hates that he knows exactly how to get his way.

Jay groans, rubbing his face with both hands. In the back of his mind, a voice whispers—maybe he'll like it. Maybe, just maybe, it won't be so bad if he's the one in control.

His hands drop, and he meets Jake's gaze. "I'll try to talk to her."

Jake's entire face lights up. His arms shoot forward, wrapping around Jay's neck as he peppers kisses all over his face, murmuring between them, "Thank you, thank you, thank you—I love you, you're the best, oh my god—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jay grumbles, pretending to be unimpressed, even as his arms tighten around Jake's waist. "I love you too."

Jay drops his notebook onto the desk with a loud thud, drawing a few glances as he settles into the seat beside you with a quiet grunt.

You freeze, lip gloss wand hovering just above your lips, staring at him in confusion.

"Excuse me? That's my seat." A sharp, sassy voice cuts through the moment.

Jay sighs, already annoyed, and glances up. He recognizes the guy instantly—Sunoo, one of the members from his club.

"Do you have your name on it?" Jay asks, raising a brow.

Sunoo rolls his eyes. "Seriously? God, you guys just pop up out of nowhere." Huffing, he drops into the seat in front of you instead, muttering something under his breath.

Jay turns his attention forward. "I need to talk to you."

You blink, shoving your lip gloss back into its tube. "What?"

"Is this about what your boyfriend told me? Because I already said—"

"And I'm here to change your mind."

You press your lips together, irritation and confusion mixing inside you.

Jay sighs, rubbing his face before looking at you again. "Meet me after the lecture, at the café downtown."

Then, without another word, he stands up, walking away because he can't sit next to you any longer.

You watch him go, then, right on cue, Jake walks into the lecture hall. His eyes scan the room once before landing on Jay. His face lights up immediately, steps quick as he moves in, casually throwing an arm around Jay's shoulders.

Jay barely reacts. He says something back, forcing a small smile, but you can tell it's fake.

Jake looks at you for a second his lips twitch into a small smile before he turns back to Jay.

Before you can even process it, Sunoo is sliding into the seat beside you, reclaiming what was his.

"Are you friends with them?" he asks, side-eyeing you. "What's with all the random talks?"

You force yourself to shrug, keeping your voice light. "No idea."

You don't know what possessed you to agree to this, but here you are—sitting across from Jay at a café, watching him lean back in his chair, sipping on his fruit tea.

Your foot taps anxiously against the floor. "Where's Jake?" you ask, breaking the silence.

Jay exhales through his nose, placing his drink down on the table before spreading his legs slightly, leaning forward. "He's too impatient and impulsive," he says firmly. "It's better if I'm the one talking to you."

You press your lips together, feeling the weight of his stare.

"Look, I didn't mean to overhear your conversation that night." His voice controlled as he's talking to you.

"Jake has been looking for the perfect third to bring into our bed, and he thinks you're..." He hesitates, his next word feeling like it physically pains him to say, "interesting."

Your fingers curl against the fabric of your skirt. "There are plenty of other girls who would be willing to join you." Your voice is steady, but your stomach is twisting. "I'm just... not the one—"

"But you want it, don't you?"

The air shifts. Your breath catches, your eyes widening slightly as you stare at him.

"You just can't say yes because of your situation," he continues, watching you closely making your throat feel dry.

He sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before pushing his hair back. "Look," he starts, tone lowering slightly.

"I know this may sound pushy, but just give it a chance. Jake is great at what he does." His jaw tightens, like the words physically strain him. "We'll consider your situation. We'll take it slow. We won't push you into anything you don't want. If it gets uncomfortable, you can back out."

He exhales sharply, his gaze flickering away for a moment before he forces himself to look at you again. "Just... give him a chance."

You stare at him, mouth slightly open. There's something strange about this. The way he speaks. The way his voice changes—like he's forcing himself through the words.

Your lips part before you even think. "What about you?"

His head lifts slightly, eyes narrowing. "What?"

You swallow. "Are you even sure you want me to join?"

His shoulders tense.

"This isn't just about Jake," you continue, shifting in your seat. "You're a couple. This kind of thing requires a lot of trust and... well, you know." You let out a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension.

Jay doesn't smile, his eyes flicker before he answers, voice softer than before. "I'm okay with it."

You tilt your head slightly. "Being okay with it doesn't mean you want it."

His jaw ticks. Jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair again, more frustrated now. "Just don't mind me, alright?"

"I just want him to be happy. What stays in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom. He's mine—and letting you into our bed doesn't mean anything more. You're just there for fun." His voice is short, irritation creeping into it.

Then, his next words come out gritted, dripping with something so possessive, it nearly startles you.

"I'll always be the one who fucks him better."

You blink. Then before you can stop yourself, you laugh.

A short, amused scoff, shaking your head. "Okay, chill." You hold your hands up in mock surrender. "I'm not going to steal your boyfriend from you."

"So you're down?"

Jay voice is impatient, looking at you. You sigh, leaning back slightly. For most girls, this would be a dream come true. Jake is hot. Jay is hot.

And they acknowledge your situation. They get it. They've promised to take things slow, to not push you, to let you back out if it gets too much.

Maybe... maybe you should just give it a chance.

Because honestly? All that self-reflection, all those moments of avoiding temptation, of telling yourself you're better than this?

Fucking pointless. Because it's not you chasing after dicks. It's the dicks chasing you.

You exhale, rubbing your temple before finally meeting his gaze. "Okay. When?"

Jay studies you for a moment before nodding, pulling out his phone.

As he scrolls through his messages, you brace yourself—already preparing for another abdominal pain moment. Because you see it coming already.

But hey—at least they're hot.

—

You wake up early, too early, scrubbing your body until your skin is soft and warm. Another round of shaving, another layer of the sweetest lotion, perfume misted over every inch of you.

By the time you sit in your lecture, your nerves are already getting the best of you. Your eyes keep flickering toward them. Jake, completely unaware of what's coming. Jay, pretending not to notice you staring.

You remember his words.

"Don't degrade him. You can't finger his ass. No leaving marks on his neck. Don't bite his dick. Don't choke him—that's my job."

You had blinked at him, slightly amused. "What about you?"

Jay had raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you had lost your mind.

"The same." His voice had been simple. Then, after a beat, "Yours?"

You had hesitated for a moment, thinking. "Uh... nothing, really. I am uh—I'm more into giving. If I get comfortable -" You had tapped your nails against the table, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I'm okay with everything. You can use me all you want."

Jay hadn't expected his pants to tighten at that.

Fuck. He shouldn't be feeling this way.

Then, you had laughed, trying to ease the tension. "Oh, and I'm not ready for double vaginal penetration. Or something inserting in my ass."

Jay had stilled. His jaw had ticked, his thoughts immediately spiraling into something he shouldn't be imagining—both him and Jake taking you, your body trembling, stretched wide between them—

He had shaken his head sharply. "As if I'm going to fuck you," he had muttered under his breath. But he had made sure you heard it.

You had only raised an eyebrow at him.

Two hours after your lecture, you're cleaning yourself again.

Over and over, you go through the motions—shower, shave, perfume—your anxiety making you restless. Jay had texted you his address earlier, and now, standing in front of his apartment door, your heart is pounding.

Your fingers tremble as you twist the knob open. Stepping inside, you're immediately hit with the scent of him.

The living room is simple—clean, minimal. Your eyes soften slightly as they land on the table covered in picture frames, mostly of him and Jake.

Cute. How long have they been together?

You shake the thought away, climbing the stairs slowly, Jay's instructions still clear in your mind—

"Just go straight to my room. The one with the keychain on the knob."

But the second you reach the hallway, you hear a soft, breathy sounds slip through the walls. Your brows furrow, steps slowing.

"Ahhh, fuck, please, please. I want to cum, I want to cum—"

You gulp, throat tightening, fingers hovering over the doorknob. A familiar ache spreads between your legs. You let out a sharp breath, half-annoyed, half-aroused.

"God, he didn't even give me a heads-up," you mutter under your breath, shifting your weight, trying to decide if you should actually walk in on this.

"Fucking shut up," Jay's voice cuts through the air, with his rough and commanding tone.

Your thighs press together as you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes for a brief moment before gathering the nerve to twist the knob open.

The door swings slightly, and you're immediately hit with the sight in front of you—

Jake, on his knees, getting pounded from behind by his boyfriend. And the worst part? They're facing you.

Your head spins as you stared at Jake's face is flushed, glistening with tears, his mouth parted as he moans helplessly. His hair is fisted in Jay's grip, keeping him in place, forcing his back into a deep arch.

Your eyes travel lower— Fuck, why the hell it's so long?

His achingly pink, dripping cock dangles with every relentless thrust, bouncing between his trembling thighs. A sharp inhale slips from your lips.

"Oh, look who finally showed up," Jay murmurs,

His grip tightens in Jake's hair, tugging him back further, forcing him to lock eyes with you.

Jake's body shudders, his eyes widening in shock.

"J-Jay! Oh my God—" His words break into a loud, desperate moan as Jay speeds up, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the room. "You said she refused!"

Jay only laughs, voice dark and smug as he leans down, shifting his angle, making Jake cry out.

"Surprise."

Your throat bobs as you swallow, hard.

You're just standing there, frozen, watching the scene unfold before you. Watching how beautifully, how filthy Jake takes Jay’s cock. The way his body rocks forward with each thrust, the way his lips fall open in helpless moans.

And then your eyes trail lower. You can see everything—Jay’s dick sinking in and out of him, coated in slick, stretching him so perfectly. Each movement is deep and unrelenting. Your breath shudders as you take it all in, heat curling through your body, making your skin burn despite the cold sweat forming on your back.

Jake’s moans grow louder, whinier, then, with his free hand, he reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his neglected cock, fisting it fast.

"Nggh, you got louder—" Jay grunts, his pace never slowing, His gaze flicks toward you, locking onto yours with a sharp, knowing glare. "You’re really into this, huh?"

"Yes, yes, yes—!" Jake moans through a smile, his hand moving faster, squeezing around his cock, never looking away from you.

Your body feels weak. Your nails press into your palms, clenched so tightly that they sting, but you barely notice. Your legs shake slightly, but you still don’t move. You can’t.

"I’m cumming—oh fuck, I’m cumming—!"

Jake’s entire body trembles, his back arching, muscles tightening as he finally lets go. His cock twitches in his hand, thick white ropes spilling over his fingers, his stomach, dripping onto the sheets beneath him. His moans are long, drawn out, mixing with the broken whimpers leaving his lips.

You don’t even realize you’re staring until your breath stutters, your thighs pressing together involuntarily.

Jay’s pace stutters as well, hips jerking forward one last time before he exhales sharply.

"Agh, fuck—"

His grip tightens on Jake’s hips, burying himself deep as he spills inside him, his body going rigid before his movements slow. He takes a second to catch his breath before finally pulling out.

A slap lands on Jake’s ass, making him jolt slightly, though he’s still too dazed to react properly.

"Don’t keep the guest waiting," Jay mutters.

Your gaze drops to him.

Jay stands there, still breathless, still hard, his cock coated in a mess of slick and cum. It’s thick, flushed, and—fuck. Your mouth waters.

Jake takes a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, grinning as he practically bounces toward you, not even bothering to clean up—not even caring that Jay’s cum is still dripping down his thighs.

He just walks up to you, arms wrapping around you in a soft, warm hug.

"Hi!" he says, his bare skin is hot against yours, his breath warm near your neck. And then you feel it—his softened cock resting against your covered thigh.

Jay’s voice cuts, "I’m gonna clean myself up."

Jake pouts at him, tilting his head. "Huh? You’re not gonna join us?"

Jay barely looks back. "Later."

He reaches for the door but pauses, eyes flicking back toward you. His gaze sweeps over you slowly before settling. "Why are you still in your uniform?"

You blink, still struggling to breathe properly. "I—I have a lecture in four hours."

Jay just nods before slipping out of the room.

Left alone with Jake, you find yourself staring at him just as much as he’s staring at you. His eyes are wide, his smile effortlessly cute.

He takes your hand, fingers lacing through yours, and gently guides you toward the bed.

"Do you think you can take another one?" you ask, watching the way his flushed face still carries the lingering effects of pleasure. Jake chuckles, guiding you to lean back as he climbs onto the mattress on all fours, positioning himself above you. So hot.

"Of course," he murmurs before finally settling beside you, propping his head up on one hand while keeping his eyes locked on yours. His free hand rests on your thigh, his touch warm and steady. "How did Jay manage to convince you?"

You shrug slightly. "He said to just give it a try. That I can always leave if it gets uncomfortable."

Jake nods, then tilts his head slightly. "I want to eat your pussy."

Your pussy clenches around nothing, the casual, sweet way he says it making something inside you tighten. How can he be so innocent and so filthy at the same time?

"Have you ever experienced that?" he asks, fingers tracing small circles against your thigh. "Can I?"

You shudder slightly, barely processing the words. "I—I have," you admit, voice quieter now. "But it felt... weird." Jake hums in thought, his fingers moving higher.

"Hmm. Then is it okay if I give it a try?" His voice is soft, but there’s something intentional about the way he asks, his fingers pausing just shy of your core, waiting.

You look into his eyes—his beautiful eyes, you exhale shakily, then nod.

Jake's lips curl into a soft smile before he leans forward, his hand sliding to your waist, pulling you closer.

"Can I kiss you?"

Your lips twitch slightly. "You don’t need to ask every time."

He chuckles, then closes the space between you. His lips press against yours, warm and soft, moving slow. You respond instantly, your hands finding his shoulders, feeling the heat of his bare skin beneath your fingertips.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding against your lips, insistent but teasing. When you part them for him, he pushes in, his tongue curling against yours, exploring, coaxing, making your head spin. His grip on your waist tightens, his arm wrapping fully around you, pulling you flush against his body. His thigh slips between yours, his bare skin brushing against your covered core, sending sparks of warmth up your spine.

You feel his cock—slowly waking up again, pressing lightly against your thigh, twitching with interest as the kiss grows hungrier.

You break the kiss, a thin string of spit connecting your lips before snapping as you tug at the knot of your uniform tie, letting it slip off and fall to the floor.

Jake watches you, breathless, his eyes hungry. Without hesitation, he reaches for the buttons of your blouse, fumbling slightly in his urgency. When he finally pushes the fabric apart, his gaze darkens at the sight of your plump, barely covered breasts.

"Fuck." He groans, cursing under his breath before crashing his lips against yours again.

His hands find your chest, cupping you through the thin material of your bra, his thumbs brushing experimentally over the fabric. The sensation makes you whine, surprising yourself with how sensitive you are. You’re not used to this—to any of this.

His lips trail down, open-mouthed kisses pressing against your throat, his tongue flicking against your pulse before licking a slow path upward. Your breath hitches, the heat pooling inside you growing more intense with every touch.

"God, I love tits," he murmurs, burying his face between them, nuzzling against your soft skin.

"Are you still okay?" he asks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

You nod, eyes fluttering shut, already feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.

His fingers slip behind you, unclasping your bra. The straps slide down your arms, the fabric falling to the floor, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. Jake doesn’t hesitate—his lips immediately latch onto one of your nipples, sucking gently before dragging his tongue over it.

A sharp gasp escapes you, your back arching slightly into his touch. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers curling into the strands as he switches to the other breast, his hand kneading the one he just left.

"I want to hear you," he murmurs against your skin, pressing slow kisses around your areola before flicking his tongue over the hardened bud.

"I—I’m not the type," you admit, biting your lip, trying to suppress the noises threatening to spill from your mouth.

Jake pulls back just enough to pout up at you before diving right back in, his tongue swirling, his lips sucking, his fingers teasing. He’s determined to get a reaction out of you.

And fuck, it’s working.

The sensation is slow, nothing rushed, nothing rough, just pure focus on you, on making you feel good. He spends minutes worshiping your chest before finally kissing his way back up to your lips, capturing them in another deep, lingering kiss.

His hands move lower. He unzips your skirt, fingers tracing along the waistband of your panties before slipping underneath, brushing against the heat between your legs.

"Fuck, you're so wet." His fingers find you soaked, glistening with arousal, and it makes his cock throb.

You shudder in anticipation, a nervous sigh leaving your lips as he slowly eases your panties down your legs.

This is it. You already know how this ends—your body will betray you, the same burning discomfort will return, and you’ll be left frustrated and disappointed again.

Jake presses a soft kiss against your lips, unconsciously distracting you from your thoughts, his hands roaming your body. His palms are so gentle, and the way he squeezes your breasts, thumbs grazing over your nipples, he kisses you deeper, tongue sliding against yours, his breath hot and ragged as he takes his time exploring your mouth. He took the opportunity to dip his hand between your legs.

You gasp into his mouth, body tensing as his fingers graze your slit, gathering your wetness before rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit.

A sharp jolt of pleasure shocks you, so unfamiliar, so intense that your arms immediately wrap around him, clinging to him.

Jake pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your jaw. "Still okay?" he whispers, kissing just below your ear.

You let out a shuddering breath. "Y-Yeah. It’s just... strange."

His fingers keep moving, slowly, carefully. "Strange how?"

You swallow thickly, your mind barely able to form words through the pleasure building inside you. "It... it doesn’t burn like it usually does."

Jake stills for half a second before tilting his head, a small, knowing smirk forming on his lips.

"Good."

His fingers press in just a little more. "I’m gonna insert a finger," he whispers, eyes locked on yours.

His middle finger pushes in slowly, sinking into you, the wetness making it effortless. He bites his lip, watching for your reaction, his chest rising and falling a little heavier now.

The second his fingertip brushes just the right spot, your body jerks.

"Oh my God—!"

A sharp moan escapes you, your back arching at the pleasure. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, your hips twitching up instinctively, chasing the sensation. Your eyes flutter, struggling to stay open, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar feeling.

Jake chuckles, completely enthralled by the way you cling to him, how sensitive you are, how eager your body is to take more.

"Hey, relax," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, nuzzling against your skin as if to soothe you. His finger begins moving—slow, deep strokes, pulling out just enough before pressing back in.

The pleasure is new, intense, making your breath hitch with every slow drag of his finger inside you. Then—it hits you. This feels good. For the first time, this actually feels good.

Your chest tightens and your vision blurs. Before you can stop it, you start crying.

Jake freezes. His brows furrow, his movements halting immediately. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head desperately, your hand darting down to grip his wrist. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, please—"

Tears spill onto your cheeks, but it’s not from frustration, not from discomfort. It’s from relief.

"Feels so good, fuck—" your voice trembles, a broken whimper leaving your lips. "It feels so good."

Jake stares at you as something tightens in his chest, seeing you like this, falling apart on just one of his fingers, crying from pleasure , it stirs something almost primal in him.

"Poor baby," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple. "You must have been so frustrated every time, hmm?"

You nod frantically, still clinging to him as you start rolling your hips, grinding down onto his hand, chasing the friction, desperate for more.

"Want more—please, more," you plead, voice breathless.

Jake’s cock twitches, precum dripping steadily from the tip at the sound of your voice, the way you’re begging for him.

His free hand grips your thigh, holding you still as he eases a second finger inside. The stretch makes you gasp, walls tightening around him instantly, but before you can adjust, he flicks his fingers against your sweet spot, fast.

You scream. A sharp, choked-out cry, your whole body shaking as your grip on him tightens, fingers digging into his arm.

Jake smiles at the reaction, his heart pounding, the heat in his stomach coiling tighter. He adjusts his position behind you, spreading your legs apart with his knee, giving himself more space to move.

"Come on, let it out," he coaxes, watching you struggle to hold back. "Please, I want to hear you."

His pace increases, fingers moving faster, curling deeper inside you, dragging along the most sensitive parts of your walls.

Your breath comes out in quick, stuttering gasps, your nails digging into his wrist as pleasure crashes into you. Your body vibrates, overwhelmed, barely able to process just how good it feels.

His other hand moves up, fingers brushing against your breast before squeezing, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

You let out a loud, desperate whine, head falling back onto his shoulder.

"You’re so beautiful," Jake groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw, feeling the way your body writhes against his. Then, a breathless chuckle—"Fuck, where’s Jay? He’s practically missing out on this."

He watches you fall apart, his fingers fucking into you at a steady rhythm, your legs trembling, your moans growing louder.

Jake swallows thickly, his cock painfully hard, already imagining all the ways he’s going to ruin you.

"I told you, he’s good at what he does." Jay voice appear, you barely register his presence at first, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of Jake’s fingers working you open.

Your half-lidded eyes flutter open, your hazy vision focusing just in time to see Jay stepping closer to the bed.

He’s fresh from the shower, only a towel hanging loosely around his waist, damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Droplets of water slide down his sculpted chest, disappearing into the fabric wrapped dangerously low on his hips.

He doesn’t look at you. Not even a glance. Instead, he moves straight to Jake, gripping his jaw and tilting his head up before crashing their lips together.

Jake melts into it instantly, moaning into Jay’s mouth, fingers still working relentlessly inside you, curling and pressing in all the right places.

Your walls clench around him at the sight. Your abdomen tightens, your body writhing against Jake’s hold, the pleasure swelling dangerously close to its peak.

Jake groans against Jay’s lips, feeling the way your body reacts. He tightens his grip around you, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, his forehead resting against Jay’s.

"Look, babe," Jake murmurs, voice thick with amusement.

He tilts your face toward Jay, thumb swiping at the tears streaking down your flushed cheeks.

"She’s crying." Jake laughs softly.

Jay finally looks at you. His sharp gaze drags over every inch of you, lingering on your trembling thighs, your swollen breasts, and your cunt—still stretched around his boyfriend’s fingers.

You moan at the weight of his stare, barely registering the way his jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a thin line. You are barely aware that your hands are reaching for him, desperate for something, anything, to ground you. Jay, however, just scoffs, eyes narrowing as if he finds your reaction pathetic.

"I’m gonna—"

"Are you gonna cum?" Jake asks, his breath hot against your cheek. You nod frantically, tears slipping down your face as the build-up inside you coils tighter, the overwhelming sensation too much to hold in.

Jake hums, licking the salty streaks from your cheeks before pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. Not really a kiss, tongue's out and licking each other.

Jay watches. His hand slides down, gripping his cock through the towel, squeezing at the aching hardness there. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling—anger, possessiveness, bitterness all twisting together into something almost violent.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was the one who convinced you. He was the one who pushed for this. And yet—he hates it.

Hates the way Jake is practically glowing in pleasure, completely lost in you, in someone else.

Hates the way you look right now—so fucking hot, back arching, mouth falling open in a silent scream as your orgasm hits, your iris literally disappear in your eyes, your whole body shaking, your walls fluttering around Jake’s fingers.

Hates that his cock twitches at the sight. His grip on himself tightens, his pace quickening, his breath hitching as he watches you come undone.

Fuck you for being so fucking irresistible. Fuck Jake for being such a needy little slut, never content with just his cock.

Jay yanks the towel from his waist, tossing it aside before climbing onto the bed, his eyes flicker to Jake, who is still licking the remnants of your slick from his fingers, savoring it, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

His gaze drops to you, to the way your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, to the way your legs tremble from the intensity of your last orgasm.

Without warning, he grabs your thighs, forcing them apart despite your weak resistance, his eyes locked onto your glistening, swollen pussy. There’s no hesitation in the way he spreads you open, no gentleness in his touch

His fingers tighten on your skin, his expression dark, before he suddenly slaps your cunt.

"Ah, no!" A sharp cry rips from your throat, your body jerking violently as your legs instinctively snap shut. But Jay doesn’t allow it—he leans in, using his weight to keep you open, delivering another harsh slap to your clit before rubbing it cruelly, only to slap it again, sending jolts of overstimulation through your already-sensitive body.

"No—stop!" you scream, thrashing against his hold, but it’s too much, too soon, and your voice comes out weak, broken.

Jake hesitates, watching the scene unfold, the conflict flickering in his eyes as you whimper beneath them. "Jay—"

"Hold her down, Jake. She likes it."

Your mind spins, unable to process what you're feeling—if it's pleasure, pain, or something in between. Your body resists, still trying to recover from the last orgasm that left you weak and trembling, but your walls clench involuntarily at the rough treatment.

Jake’s hesitation falters. He exhales sharply, biting his lip before following Jay’s order, arms sliding around you, pressing you down against the mattress.

"Shhh," he hushes, his lips ghosting over your damp skin, trailing lower to your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple in slow, teasing motions. But the moment of tenderness only amplifies the pleasure—only makes your body more overwhelmed, more sensitive.

"Come on, give us another one," Jay mutters before shoving three fingers inside you at once.

Your back arches off the bed, a loud sob escaping your lips, your walls stretching too fast, too full, nothing like the slow build-up Jake had given you before. Unlike his boyfriend, Jay doesn’t ease into it—he doesn’t tease, doesn’t wait for your body to adjust. He just fucks you with his fingers, rough and unrelenting, his palm slamming against your clit with every harsh thrust.

It doesn’t burn—not like it used to. But fuck, it hurts.

It hurts in a way that makes your body crave it, that makes you cling to Jake even as your mind screams that it’s too much. The pleasure is raw, overwhelming, your thighs quivering uncontrollably, your breath coming out in frantic gasps.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—!" you choke out, voice cracking, unable to stop yourself from whining, from shaking.

Jay clicks his tongue, displeased, his free hand moving up to grab your throat, fingers pressing into the sides as he tightens his grip. "You said we could do anything we wanted, didn’t you?" His tone is mocking, his pace never slowing, only pushing deeper, rougher. "Don’t you fucking back out now."

Your vision blurs, a strangled gasp escaping as you clutch at his wrist, your body caught between wanting to stop and wanting more. Your mind is too far gone to fight it—your thighs trembling as another orgasm builds fast, your walls tightening around his fingers.

Jay feels it immediately, his jaw clenching, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. He should stop—should let you breathe, let you come down—but instead, he pulls his fingers out abruptly, making you whine at the emptiness.

Before you can even process the loss, his hand slaps your pussy again.

"Jay—" Jake starts, but he’s cut off by a sharp glare.

"She’s enjoying it, isn’t she?" Jay huffs, his dark gaze snapping back to you, watching the way your body shudders, your fingers gripping his wrist like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His lips curl, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Ah, I forgot—you can’t speak right now, can you?" He laughs under his breath, finally releasing your throat, watching you gasp for air.

"Jake, hold her legs open. Don’t let her close them." His voice is firm, commanding, and Jake doesn’t question him this time.

Jake moves behind you, his warm hands gripping the backs of your thighs, forcing you open as Jay continues his assault on your wrecked cunt. The slaps grow harder, sharper, the alternating mix of rough circles over your clit and sudden impact making your body feel like it’s burning, in a good way.

You sob, your throat raw, your entire body trembling, but you can’t stop—can’t fight the way your hips twitch upward with every hit.

It’s too much.

It’s exactly like porn.

The last slap lands, harder than before, followed by relentless, rough circles against your clit. Your abdomen tightens so suddenly it feels violent, your breath choking on a scream. "Fuck, no, no—!"

Your body jerks, a shockwave of pleasure ripping through you, forcing Jay’s hand out of you as your orgasm explodes.

A sudden rush of liquid spurts from between your legs, the wetness splashing onto Jay’s forearm, drenching Jake’s hands where they still hold you open. The realization hits all of you at the same time, the room falling into stunned silence for a brief second.

Jake’s eyes widen, his fingers tightening around your thighs as you keep squirting, your body writhing against his grip. "Holy shit," he whispers, almost in awe, his own cock twitching at the sight.

Jay’s expression darkens, his lips parted slightly as he watches the mess you just made. His jaw tightens, his cock aching, his pride burning with how wrecked you look.

"I wanna lick it," Jake murmurs, voice breathy, eager, already shifting positions.

Your body barely registers what’s happening. Your throat is raw, your limbs are limp, and your vision is hazy, blurred with exhaustion and overstimulation. But they move you anyway, shifting your body like a doll between them, switching positions.

Jake lowers himself between your legs, his warm breath ghosting over your slick, oversensitive skin. At the same time, Jay positions himself behind you, pulling you flush against his chest, his firm grip keeping you upright as your legs tremble. His arms snake around you, locking your thighs open.

"Don’t fall asleep on us. Jake’s still enjoying himself." Jay’s voice is low, whispering so Jake doesn't hear, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers toy lazily with your swollen nipples.

Your heavy eyes fight to stay open, lids drooping, but the moment Jake’s tongue licks through your folds, sharp pleasure snaps through you, making you whimper.

Jay watches the way your body jerks, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek in irritation of what you're doing. He bites your nape—hard, teeth sinking into your skin just as Jake flicks his tongue over your clit.

A scream rips from your throat, pain and pleasure crashing into each other all at once. Jay’s fingers tighten around your breasts, kneading roughly, relishing how soft you feel beneath his grip. He groans, inhaling your scent, his lips brushing against the mark he just left.

"Fuck, you feel so soft." His voice is quieter now, almost to himself, but then his fingers pinch your nipples, making you jolt. "I hate you." The words are bitter, filled with frustration, but his hands never stop.

Jake pulls back slightly, licking his lips before glancing up at you. "Is she still okay?" His voice is gentle, laced with concern, his fingers stroking your inner thighs.

Jay sighs, rolling his eyes, his grip tightening possessively around your chest. "Of course she’s fine, baby. I’m waking her up." He flashes Jake a sweet smile.

Jake lowers himself again, spreading you open further, his tongue gliding along your folds before dipping inside, tasting you. Your head falls back against Jay’s shoulder, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You barely have a voice left, just soft, broken moans spilling from your lips as Jake’s tongue works against you, his nose nudging your clit. The wet sounds mix with your ragged breathing, your hands gripping weakly onto Jay’s legs.

Jay watches Jake closely, his eyes darkening as he notices how his boyfriend grinds his hips into the sheets while eating you out.

The way Jake’s tongue hardens inside you, how his moans vibrate against your cunt, sends your back arching for more even though you can't take it anymore.

"Are you still okay with penetration?" His voice drags you back, your dazed eyes barely focusing on him as you try to process the question.

"Yes—" The word slips from your lips, hoarse and weak, as your body arches under Jake’s tongue, your walls clenching around nothing.

Jay hums, satisfied, his fingers idly stroking your inner thigh as his attention shifts back to Jake. "Babe, do you want to go inside her?"

Jake lifts his head, breathless, his lips shining with your slick. His eyes flicker between you and Jay before he grins, biting his lip. "Can I?"

Jay smiles at him, softer this time, his hand brushing over Jake’s cheek before nodding. "Of course, baby." He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to Jake’s lips, tasting you on him.

You squirm slightly as Jay shifts again, dragging your legs further apart as Jake moves into position. Your hazy mind barely registers how you’re now upside down, your head hanging slightly over the edge of the mattress. When you blink up, Jay is standing in front of you, looking down at you with a glare.

Jake groans as he fists his cock, spreading the leaking precum along his length before positioning himself between your legs. He grips your thighs, spreading you further, his cock rubbing along your clit, gathering your wetness before pressing against your entrance.

A sharp exhale leaves you as he pushes in, the slow stretch making your body tense before melting into pleasure.

"Fuck—" Jake moans, his head tilting back as your warmth surrounds him, his fingers tightening around your waist. "So fucking good—" His hips twitch slightly, unable to stop himself from thrusting in deeper, his pace quickening almost immediately.

"Good?" His voice is breathless, almost a whimper, as he looks at you.

You nod weakly, arms reaching for him, needing more. Jake leans forward, capturing your lips in another deep kiss, his moans muffling against your mouth.

"Move, baby. I have to feel good too." Jay’s voice is calm and patient, but the command is clear.

Jake straightens, adjusting his position as his thrusts deepen, picking up speed. You cry out, the angle hitting something devastating, making your toes curl. But before you can process the pleasure, something heavy presses against your lips.

"Let’s see if Heeseung’s rating was right."

Your moan is cut off by Jay’s cock pressing past your lips, stretching your mouth as he slides in. He groans, fingers curling into your hair, holding himself still as he feels how tight you are around him. "Shit—so fucking deep—"

You force yourself to relax, breathing through your nose, your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock. Jay sighs in satisfaction, his grip in your hair tightening slightly before he begins to move, rolling his hips in time with Jake’s thrusts.

Your head spins.

Every movement from Jake sends Jay’s cock deeper into your throat, forcing you to take him further with each thrust. Your body is overwhelmed, overstimulated from both ends, your moans vibrating around Jay, making his jaw clench.

Jake grips your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he drives into you, his thrusts becoming erratic, sloppy, desperate. "Baby—fuck, so good, so good—" His voice is almost whiny, his pace stuttering as he gets closer to his release. Jay glances at him, his lips twitching into a soft smile.

"Are you happy?" Jay asks, his voice smooth despite the way he’s thrusting into your mouth, barely holding himself together.

Jake nods frantically, gasping between moans, his body trembling as his hips jerk forward uncontrollably. "Yes, yes, yes—fuck, Jay—" He leans forward, pressing his forehead against Jay’s, kissing him openly.

Jay’s hands dig into your breasts, his grip tightening until the pressure burns, sure to leave behind faint bruises in the shape of his fingers.

His breath is ragged, the pleasure coiling in his stomach, but just as his body urges him to chase his release, he pulls out, leaving you suddenly empty. Your dazed, confused expression meets his as he fists his cock, stroking himself slowly.

"What? You think you deserve my cum?" His voice is cold, "not a chance."

The words barely register before Jake’s thrusts snap your focus back to him, his pace growing more frantic. Your body rocks beneath him, your oversensitive walls clenching tight around his cock, milking him for everything he’s worth.

Jay watches with dark, unreadable eyes, his hand moving steadily over himself, his knuckles white from the grip.

You’re too far gone to even moan properly now—your throat is too raw, your body too exhausted. But you still feel it—every deep, hard thrust slamming against your g-spot, sending you spiraling further into an overstimulated haze.

"I’m gonna cum—can I cum inside you? Please, please—" Jake’s voice is wrecked, pleading, his fingers working quick circles over your clit, making your head spin.

You nod weakly, unable to do anything else, your body locking up as the final wave crashes over you. Your cunt tightens around him, your orgasm ripping through you so violently that your vision whites out.

Your limbs shake uncontrollably, your mind blanking from the sheer intensity of it, your nerves are fried. You don’t even realize you’re crying again, too far gone to care.

Jake gasps, his body stiffening before his hips stutter, his cock buried deep as he spills inside you. "Yes, yes—thank you, thank you, thank you—fuck—" He babbles, his forehead pressing against yours as he trembles, his release filling you to the brim, dripping down where you’re still connected.

Jay exhales sharply, his own arousal teetering on the edge as he watches the sight before him, with a growl, he grabs Jake’s hair, yanking him down onto his cock without warning. Jake barely has time to catch his breath before Jay’s hips snap forward, his cock pushing past his lips, forcing him to take him deep.

Jake chokes, his throat tightening around him, his body still trembling from the aftermath of his orgasm. His fingers dig into your thighs as he adjusts, tongue flattening against Jay’s shaft, relaxing his throat the best he can.

Jay groans, his free hand gripping the back of Jake’s head, holding him still as he thrusts into the warmth of his mouth.

"Come on, baby. I’m close too, hmm?" His voice is rough, but his eyes have softened slightly, watching the way Jake struggles to take him properly, how his throat works around him, trying so hard to please him.

Jake nods weakly, his tongue swirling around the length of him, his lips stretching around his thick cock as he bobs his head in time with Jay’s movements. His body is exhausted, but the desire to satisfy Jay outweighs the burning in his throat.

You force yourself to sit up, your entire body weak, your legs barely able to hold your weight. Your half-lidded eyes land on the sight before you—Jake’s lips stretched wide around Jay, his jaw slack, his throat taking every deep thrust. Your mind is foggy, your muscles sore, but you watch, hypnotized.

Jay’s eyes flick toward you, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, his thrusts falter.

"I'm close, baby." His grip on Jake’s hair tightens slightly, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. And then, with a final groan, his release spills into Jake’s mouth, his hips pressing forward as he holds him there, forcing him to swallow every drop.

Jake takes it all, eyes fluttering shut, his throat working around him until Jay finally pulls out, a thin string of saliva and cum breaking between them.

You didn’t even realize you had passed out.

Everything was a blur—the memories muddled together, the sensations lingering somewhere between dream and reality. Your body floated, weightless, exhaustion pulling you under even as you felt hands on you.

Fingers washing you, dragging a warm cloth over your skin, rinsing you. The soft splash of water surrounded you, the faint scent of soap.

Jake’s voice filtered, "Are you okay?"

You wanted to answer, but your body wouldn’t respond. You were too tired, too drained, your mind slipping back into the darkness before you could even try.

When you wake up, it’s already another day.

You blink, squinting against the dim light filtering through the unfamiliar room. Your head feels heavy, like it’s been weighed down by exhaustion, and your limbs ache with every movement.

Your gaze drifts, taking in your surroundings—this isn’t your dorm, but your belongings are neatly placed on the side table.

Your uniform hangs on a nearby hook, freshly ironed.

Slowly, you push yourself up, wincing as a dull ache spreads through your muscles. Your throat throbs, and the soreness in your body makes it feel like you’ve been beaten.

You shuffle toward the mirror on the wall, rubbing at your sore neck absentmindedly—

And then you freeze.

Your reflection stares back, the evidence of last night’s events written across your skin.

A deep bite mark sits at the side of your neck, darkening into a deep purple. Your throat is bruised, a faint imprint of Jay’s grip still visible. Your legs are covered in smaller marks—finger-shaped bruises, faded red streaks.

"Fuck—"

Panic flickers in your chest.

How the hell are you supposed to go to school like this?

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #jay x reader #jake x reader #jay smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jay x jake

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