#nerdie was just messing around
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nerdieforpedro · 4 months ago
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WIP Tag Game (The XL edition) 🤣
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I was tagged by @missredherring and sure I did it earlier this week. Could I have come up with a new WIPs because my mind is never quiet? 🤐
Yes, yes, Yes I did. 😆 I’m also structuring it similar to how she had it because it spoke to me. 🤭
Current foci (because having just one is difficult as I bounce around):
1. Weddings 101 with Dieter and @angelofsmalldeath-codeine - We’re going to finish it one day or at least the next chapter. Also AO3 link.
2. Coasting through the Rainbow 🌈 - I’m half way done with chapter four of this finally. 😆 2 and 1/2 more to go! Also AO3 link.
3. Waters of Lethe - The Qimir one. Maybe 2-5 parts? We’ll see where it goes. So far only one part. AO3 link
4. Honey and Sugarplum - With Jack Daniels and an OFC. Very sweet, smutty kinda and fluffy. ☺️ AO3 link.
Excuse me Ma’am? We’re over here in the back!
1. Unnamed Fae Jack Daniel fic for Monster Smash Challenge. I did write out some Fae facts for this one and I plan to keep it…..an actual one shot?! It’s been 900 years since Nerdie’s done one of those.
2. Fifty-Six Wildflower Lane - this one with Frankie still needs an ending, then I can post it here like. Just need part number four. AO3 link.
3. Tasting Ambrosia - Ezra, ever the scoundrel nagging at the back of my brain has a small WIP. No idea where this one is going. Also trying to do drama and will he make it out sort of deal. 👀
We been waiting for our day to come for so long:
1. Travel to You - A sweet and maybe a little obsessive Javi G? He’s adorable, has golden curls and can shoot those clay bird things down accurately so, totally fine. Have discord and FFXIV references, very nerdy. 🤣 AO3 link.
2. Therapy for the Well-Adjusted - Marcus Pike and Imani are finally going on that date. Or do they? Maybe they go somewhere else? Also AO3 link.
3. A Safe Place for Us - Dieter and Aisha continue to sort their feelings and trying to make a baby. What could go wrong? Also AO3 link.
4. Green Shop of Memories - that Marcus Moreno AU where I made him a wizard/warlock that owns a cafe. 😘 It’s all sad, and cute. Plus it has fairies and a Magic Council. Also fake dating? AO3 link.
5. Kissed by the Sun - I had an idea that Oberyn Martell was a son or descendant of Apollo and he pissed off Venus (Aphrodite if ya nasty) and was barred from his soulmate being able to interact with him other than his voice. Because…..I read too many Marcus A fics that kept referencing Roman gods. 🫡 AO3 link
6. Din’s in the Neighborhood- Modern Din AU that has him meet on OFC DV survivor post divorce. Also Grogu is a human boy and we have Finn/Poe. There’s also Johnnie Mae and Luke that are just together? No one’s asking and I don’t think either of them would given an answer. 😆 So many cameos and randomness, so little time. Side notes: I gave Din tattoos, Obi-Wan is a children’s author and there’s a Jedi Law & Order show. Also AO3 link.
7. Fire and Fury - Pero and Calista’s story likely has two more parts. Complete with smut, more fighting, a bathtub (I promised @avastrasposts that one) and they’ll get their revenge! But what happens after? Also AO3 link.
8. Hands of God - This could be a long one shot or I might have to split it up. The Marcus Acacius fic that @soft-persephone and @megamindsecretlair “gently suggested” that I write. I did start it. 👀 There will be some infidelity, plots, murder and a coup. Also a dash of smut just for seasoning. And maybe a subby Marcus A? Can I do it? Only time and Marcus’ sash will tell.
9. Front Office Adjunct - One of two Dave York fics. ☺️ Dave blackmails on OFC into working for him. Things appear to be stacked in his favor, but are they? This one is a slow burn one, enemies to lovers maybe? Also espionage, murder, violence, smutty and bad behavior. Just bad. 👀���� AO3 link
She hasn’t touched us in so long:
Pleasure Principle - The first series I ever started anywhere. Has Dave York in a toxic working on making it better relationship with an OFC. I’ll finish this one someday. 😭😭 Also AO3 link.
Uncomplicated Mi Amor - The fic where I swore I was going to have something sweet for Javier Peña. Which it is, I just haven’t finished it. 👀 Also I will finish someday. Also AO3 link.
Roc & Doc - A Tim Rockford crime series with an OFC ME that is my love letter to the likely thousands of hours I’ve spent watching crime procedurals or listening to true crime podcasts. Also AO3 link.
Some have just AO3 links, I haven’t gotten around to putting them on Tumblr yet and some are in both places. A few just exist in notes. 🗒️ I should also never look through my WIP this in depth again. This thing is very long. 🤣🤣🤣
NPT because you may have already done it but I described things this time around. 🙌🏽
@schnarfer @maggiemayhemnj @lotusbxtch @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @604to647
@inept-the-magnificent @connectioneverywhere @for-a-longlongtime @lady-bess @tinytinymenace
@perotovar @julesonrecord @yourcoolauntie @clawdee @magpiepills
@trulybetty @rhoorl @grogusmum @syd-djarin @sin-djarin
@harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @jolapeno @pedrospurplerain @alltheglitterandtheroar
@movievillainess721 @notapradagurl7 @bishtrouille @fhatbhabiee @secretelephanttattoo
@gasolinerainbowpuddles @din-cognito @djarins-cyare
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mealbits · 2 years ago
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i think what i love the most abt ur art is that ur always drawing things you clearly enjoy and u can tell bc of the way ur works all look like they were made with love and i guess what im trying to say is how do i do that lol
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I GET HOW U FEEL SO MUCH. truth is back in liiike 2020 i was exclusively creating art for this blog in a 'What Does My Audience Want?' mindset, and if you do want to get into fields that center around Art/Design for An Audience theres no harm in doing that in moderation(but back in 2020 it felt like all i did was make art for other people lmao). one major thing that helped me make this blog more about My Art for Me and less My Art for Someone Else was rethinking how and why i made art. my art was 'the thing i have to put on my blog today' but nowadays its more 'this project im doing to learn XYZ while also drawing what i want to draw' (i also have more projects and ideas overall because of it!!!! thats also something i noticed just now lol) that shadow gijinka i just posted used 2 be a ditched sketch from. last week? i forgot abt until i lined, colored, and rendered it just for fun (and to do some more paint-adjacent rendering cuz thats my jam) since i do plan to get into commission work this year i am aware i gotta prioritize more Art Studies and 'Learning how to draw for other people, figure out what they want, etc.' or whatever. uhhh tldr i wanted to get better at art without hating art so i do studies with shadow the hedgehog and anime girls.
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riddlegecko · 2 years ago
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i am being Very assumptive when i say this bc i haven't seen will branner in action yet (i mean, i technically have, but that was an ensemble role in a show i saw Three Years Ago), but i now believe that if santa claus is goin' to high school ever makes a reappearance in hatchetfield, kris'll prolly be played by will.
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chosok-amo · 1 month ago
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THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo
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★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.
warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.
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the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.
they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.
the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.
“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.
gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”
sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”
“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”
toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.
gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”
geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”
toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”
there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.
sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”
toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.
“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.
the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.
geto snort, “yeah, right.”
gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.
sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”
but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.
“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.
“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”
sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.
“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”
the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.
gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”
geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.
sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.
“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”
the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.
gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.
geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.
toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.
it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.
today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.
“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.
you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.
but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.
“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.
gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”
you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.
his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”
his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.
you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”
his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.
he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.
you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.
you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”
his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.
gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.
“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”
he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.
and that’s where you are . . .
gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.
“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.
he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”
you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.
“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.
gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.
his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.
“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.
you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.
“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”
despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.
“what exactly did you have in mind?”
gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”
his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”
gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.
gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”
with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.
“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”
the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.
“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”
despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.
gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.
he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.
you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.
“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”
“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.
gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.
he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.
but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”
you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.
“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.
after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.
gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.
“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.
“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.
gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.
“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.
gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.
“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.
“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.
you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.
as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.
next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.
gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.
“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.
with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.
“perfect.”
gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.
he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.
without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.
you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.
“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.
gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”
gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”
his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.
“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.
“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.
“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.
gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.
“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.
you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.
when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."
his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.
gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.
with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.
slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.
“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.
you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.
“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.
gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.
“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.
you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.
“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”
gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.
gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.
“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.
once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.
your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.
gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”
you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.
“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.
gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”
but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.
gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.
gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”
he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.
“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”
gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.
“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.
he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.
when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”
gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”
he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.
gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.
“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”
gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.
“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.
his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.
you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”
your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.
“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”
gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”
he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.
gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.
a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.
but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”
your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.
“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.
gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.
gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.
“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”
gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.
your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.
a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.
a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.
“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”
gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.
“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.
as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.
the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.
with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”
gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.
“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.
overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.
as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.
he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.
after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.
his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.
a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”
you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.
gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”
he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.
you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.
“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.
gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.
gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.
his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.
gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.
he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.
you simply nod.
gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.
he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.
gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.
once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.
“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.
gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.
he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.
gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.
as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.
he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.
monday couldn’t come soon enough.
sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”
the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.
he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.
as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.
geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.
toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.
and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.
a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.
sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.
“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.
sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.
gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.
“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”
the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.
then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.
their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.
you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.
the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.
toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.
sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”
toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”
geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”
gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”
the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.
gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.
gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.
geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”
lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.
each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.
toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.
gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.
you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.
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hairmetal666 · 6 months ago
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No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.
Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.
Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.
It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.
The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).
That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.
He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.
Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.
Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.
---
He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.
"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."
Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."
"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."
"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"
"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."
"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.
"How long you in detention for?"
"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "
"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"
"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"
They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.
The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.
---
He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.
It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.
He wishes he could tell Eddie.
Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.
They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.
Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.
He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--
He wants
---
Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.
He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.
Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.
It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.
Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.
He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"
"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."
Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"
In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.
"You should be safe here," Eddie says.
Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"
"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."
Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"
"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."
"You can't tell anyone."
"I'm not going to."
"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"
"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."
"You're giving me too much credit, man."
"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."
His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."
Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"
Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"
"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."
He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"
Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.
"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.
Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."
"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.
He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.
"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.
Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."
"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."
"I have a character."
"What???"
"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"
"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"
Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."
Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"
He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."
"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.
"If you're lucky." Steve beams.
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 3 months ago
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Lego Flowers
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nerdy!Nat x Reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, college AU, sub!Top Nat, Natasha has a penis, oral (r), needy Nat, unprotected sex, creampie,
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Natasha invited you to build some flowers but you get distracted (based on a request)
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You watched how her hands fiddled with the lego pieces she was piercing together, her veiny hands looking so big on the small pieces. Instead of your usual plans for the weekend, getting black out drunk, you opted for building LEGO flowers with your new girlfriend. You had eyed Natasha for weeks now, the dorky nerd who had offered helping you with your assignments once or twice. Something about her shy demeanour and thick glasses drew you in. 
“Are you almost done yet” You asked, teasingly your hands gracing over her biceps, the muscle flexing under your touch. “It would be faster if you’d help” She stuttered her eyes fixating on her open hands to not get even more distracted. “Mhm… but I couldn’t focus on that if you’re so distracting” You could see the redness creeping up on her face as your hands traveled down in her lap “I-I’m not”. You giggled enjoying how flustered she could become even though this was far from your first time together. 
“Not what?” You teased your hands unzipping her jeans to reveal the bulge in her jeans. “Someone’s excited.” You could feel the pre cum already wetting her underwear. “Baby please” her hands were gipping the fabric of her jeans to somehow keep posture. “I- I wanna eat you please” She pleaded, turning around to try and catch you in a kiss, abandoning her Lego pieces on the floor of  the dorm room. 
Your hands found her shirt pulling her closer until you were both flat on the ground, her breath was heavy as she left messy kisses all over your face. Your lipstick was smudged over your mouth as you focused on Natasha on top of you. Her hands fumbled with your shirt pushing it up to reveal your bare breasts. “D-damn princess all for me?” You nodded and pushed her head down to your breasts, where you needed her. 
Natasha made out with your breasts, licking over them, peppering kisses. You moaned under her touch arching your back towards her. “Please baby, I- I need you” She whimpered as if she was the one being touched. “Come on Natty, eat me out” She nodded her hands tugging on your sweatpants. She kissed your pubic bone over to your pretty pink panties, you knew she loved. She licked over them pulling them from your hot cunt with her teeth before she let them go again, snapping against your cunt. You let out a loud moan not caring for the thin walls in the dormitory. 
She licked over the already drenched cloth enjoying how you tried to squirm away from her touch. She pushed your panties to the side, not bothering to remove them. She licked all over your core moaning and whimpering into it like a starved woman. She was lost in the pleasure of the sounds she made you do. Every moan, every cry, every whimper made her more needy for you. “Fuck Natasha” You moaned “You’re so good for for me” She took your clit in your mouth sucking on it like her life depended on it. Your hands found her hair tugging on the roots of her red hair. You buckled your hips against her face feeling the bump of her nose against your cunt. You tried closing your thighs against her head, wanting her trapped against your heat. But her strong hands kept your thighs open for her. 
“You taste so g- good, I could do this all day” She hummed against you. She knew you were close, so damn close for her. “Come for me, baby please” She cried out her tongue licking over your heat to give you that final push you needed. And it worked, she was met with a gush of your cum which she licked up until you were clean again. You pulled her back up by her collar seeing how fogged up her thick glasses had gotten just by eating you out. Her face was a mess with your juices but she didn’t mind. “Did I do well?” She asked, her voice still a little shaky.
“Very well baby” You pulled her closer to kiss her “Get on the bed baby, I wanna ride you” She scrambled to stand up getting rid of her pants and shirt before sitting up on the headboard of the twin bed. You had to smile at her eagerness. You straddle her lap sinking down on her hard cock. She let out a long moan feeling your tight walls hugging her so neatly. You were surprised by just how thick she was ´´ but you didn’t mind feeling so full at all. 
She could barely function because she was so focused on not cuming inside you immediately. You moved up and down her length making as her eyes followed your jiggly tits, you noticed her longing looks as you moved her hands on your breasts. Within the next seconds her hips chased yours before it happened. “Fuck I- I’m so sorry” She apologized profusely moments after her hot cum was shot inside you. 
“Baby it’s okay” You kissed her cheek, her face turning away out of shame. “You already lasted longer than last time besides I came already… this was all about you baby” You kissed down her neck still warming her cock. You settled against her chest, her shaky hand  playing with your hand. 
@widowyouknow
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itneverendshere · 4 months ago
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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (two)
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request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; read part one here
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Rafe can’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell for you. 
Maybe it was that late-night study session in the library, when you two were the only ones left, books spread out around you in a chaotic mess. You were focused, and determined to get through the material, but you still found time to crack a joke about the professor’s outdated references. It caught him off guard, the way your eyes lit up with humor, and he found himself smiling back, genuinely for the first time in a while.
Or maybe it was the day you dragged him out of bed for an early morning hike, insisting that the sunrise was something he couldn’t miss. He was grumpy, still half-asleep, but the way you looked at the horizon with pure wonder in your eyes made it all worth it. You were always pulling him into these little adventures—moments he would’ve missed if it weren’t for you. And each time, he found himself enjoying them more because you were there.
Maybe it was when you’d curl up next to him in his dorm room, no words needed, just the comfort of each other’s presence. You didn’t ask for anything from him, didn’t expect him to be anyone but himself. It was in those moments that Rafe started to realize how much he needed you—how much he craved the simplicity of just being with you.
Then there was that day in the quad, where you were sitting with a group of friends, laughing about something he couldn’t hear from where he stood. You looked so at ease, so effortlessly yourself, that he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It hit him then, a quiet revelation that left him breathless: you weren’t just someone he enjoyed being around. You were someone he couldn’t imagine being without.
He started looking forward to the little things—walking you to class, the way your hand would brush against his as you walked side by side, the shared meals where you’d always steal fries off his plate with a mischievous grin. He fell for the way you listened to him, really listened, even when he was just venting about something trivial. You made him feel seen and understood in a way no one else ever had.
Rafe might not be able to pinpoint the exact moment he fell for you, but he knows that somewhere along the way, you became his favorite part of every day. You made him want to be better, to live up to the version of himself that you seemed to see, even when he struggled to see it himself. 
Of course, he had to fuck up the best thing to happen in his life.
He had never been good at keeping good things close. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was self-sabotage, or maybe he just didn’t know how to handle something real. He didn’t mean to—he never wanted to hurt you—but somehow, he always found a way to mess things up.
He’d forgotten all about the stupid bet. No one had mentioned it in months, he figured it was over. Gone. Like they had never planned it in the first place. It was so fucking stupid of him. He figured it was over, a distant memory that held no weight against what you meant to him now. But he was wrong. So fucking wrong.
The damage was done. He’d never forget the look on your face when you confronted him. It nearly undid him right there. He tried to explain, to tell you that the bet was meaningless, that it hadn’t mattered from the moment he truly got to know you. But every word felt hollow, wrong, as if he was trying to patch up a wound that was too deep to heal. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, hadn’t expected you to become the most important person in his life.
But you did.
You walked out that day, and he didn’t have the strength to stop you. He couldn’t, because deep down, he knew he had no right to ask you to stay. He had fucked up in the worst way
Rafe tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that you were better off without him, but every day without you only proved how wrong he was. He missed you—God, he missed you more than he thought possible. Nights were the worst. He would lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over again, wishing he could go back, undo it all. But he couldn't.
He'd see you around campus sometimes. But there was a distance now—a wall that he had put there, and it killed him to know that he was the reason for it. 
Whenever your eyes met, there was no warmth, no recognition. It was as if he had become just a stranger to you, and it tore him apart.
Rafe knew he needed to give you space, but the thought of never having you in his life again was unbearable. He would catch himself walking in your direction, only to stop short, turning away because he didn't want to cause you more pain. But he wanted to talk to you, to explain himself better, to make you understand that he never meant for any of this to happen. The words never came out right in his head, and he doubted they ever would in person. But still, he wanted to try.
And then one day, as he was walking through the quad, he saw you sitting alone on a bench, reading a book. For a moment, it felt like old times, when he could just walk over, sit beside you, and everything would be okay. But it wasn’t like that anymore. His chest tightened as he watched you, the familiar ache swelling up inside him.
He was just about to turn away when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Rafe, man! There you are!"
It was Kelce, along with a couple of their friends. They were laughing, completely oblivious to his situation. Rafe stiffened, his jaw clenching as he realized what was about to happen. He tried to subtly signal Kelce to keep it down, to not draw any more attention to him—or worse, to you.
But it was too late. Kelce was already too close, and you had already noticed the group approaching. Your eyes flickered from your book to them, and then to Rafe, your expression unreadable.
Kelce, noticing your gaze, gave you a nod and then turned to Rafe, still grinning. 
The fucking nerve he had was astonishing. 
"What are you doing over here, man? Stalking her now, or just reminiscing?"
Rafe shot him a look, but he just laughed, clearly thinking it was all in good fun. 
"C'mon, we were just heading to grab some food. You should join us."
All he could think about was the last time Kelce had been involved in his life—how it was his drunken confession that had ultimately led to this entire mess. Rafe hadn’t forgotten how he had blurted out the truth about the bet to someone else. And now, here he was again, completely fucking oblivious to what he’d done.
Rafe could feel your eyes on him, and it made his skin prickle with unease. He wanted to say something, to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like, that he wasn’t here with them, but the words caught in his throat. He glanced at you, searching for some sign of what you were thinking, but your face was carefully neutral.
Before he could even try to say anything, you stood up, tucking your book under your arm. Without a word, you walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, feeling more lost than ever.
Kelce, still clueless, nudged him. “Come on, let’s go.”
He shook his head, finally finding his voice. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up later.”
Kelce shrugged and turned to leave with the others, but not before throwing a careless comment over his shoulder. “Don’t get too caught up, man. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
He wanted to punch him so fucking bad it hurt. 
He took a deep breath. But all he could think about was the look on your face as you walked away. That blank, unreadable expression had become all too familiar. It was worse than anger—it was indifference.
And Rafe knew that was entirely his fault.
As they walked off, he sank down onto the bench you had just vacated. The warmth from where you’d been sitting still lingered, a cruel reminder of how close you’d been, and yet so far out of reach. He buried his face in his hands, groaning. 
What the fuck was he doing? Lurking around you like some creep because he didn’t have the balls to talk to you. Every part of him was still tethered to you.
He hadn't even been brave enough to tell you he loved you. You had walked away thinking you were just a bet. You had walked away believing you were nothing more than a stupid game. And he had let you. He had let you walk away without telling you the truth.
He didn’t just care for you. He didn’t just like you. He was in love with you. 
He knew he couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep watching you from a distance, hoping for some kind of miracle. If he wanted any chance of making things right, he had to take that chance himself. He had to face the mess he’d made, no matter how terrifying it was. Because losing you forever was a thousand times worse than the fear of rejection or the pain of knowing he’d hurt you.
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You’d been trying to move on.
It was the only way to handle what had happened between you and Rafe. You fought to ignore the ache in your chest, to keep yourself busy enough that you wouldn’t have time to think about him.
But the truth was, moving on wasn’t as simple as just letting time pass.
You’d always felt like you had a good handle on things, that you could manage your emotions with a certain degree of control. But this was different. This was a kind of pain you’d never felt before, that crept into your days, making you wary of every familiar corner of campus, every spot you and Rafe had shared. You’d hoped that the sting would slowly fade, that the distance would bring relief. Instead, it seemed to only make things worse for you.
When you saw him in the quad that day with his friends, your heart sank. You tried to focus on your book, tried to drown out the sound of their laughter, but it was impossible. You knew that, despite everything, you would still recognize him in a crowd. It was as if your heart had a direct line to him, a constant reminder of the last time you had seen him.
You had tried so hard to keep your composure, to act like seeing him didn’t matter.
But it did. So much it nearly brought you to tears on the spot. But you weren’t about to cry in public, again, for him. 
Kelce’s comment reached your ears as you walked away and you felt a fresh wave of hurt. The way he laughed, as if the entire situation was a joke, made your stomach churn. It wasn’t just the bet—it was everything. It was the way Rafe had made you feel like you were just another game to be won and then discarded. It was the fact he was still hanging around that kind of people. It was the fact he hadn’t tried to speak to you yet.
You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt, but having your heart broken hurt like a bitch. 
You thought you were going insane when Jessica, more precisely Rafe’s ex-girlfriend, sat next to you in the locker room before practice. 
“I'm sorry about him.”
You didn’t spare her a glance, afraid that this was just another sick game you were getting sucked into, “About who?”
Jessica let out a small, humorless laugh. "Fair enough," She paused, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Rafe.”
You didn’t want to talk about him. Bringing him up meant everything was real. 
“I’m not here to stir up drama or anything,” she continued, her tone surprisingly sincere. “I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what he did to you. He’s better than that.”
You finally glanced over at her, skepticism clear in your eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
Jessica shrugged, leaning back against the bench, “Because you didn’t deserve it. But also because that idiot is clearly in love with you.”
“Love?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, almost laughable after everything that had happened. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m serious.”
There was something in her voice that made you falter, a quiet vulnerability that you hadn’t expected. Jessica had always seemed so put-together, so confident, but now, sitting beside you, she looked almost… defeated. 
Jess sighed, “Look, I’m not here to defend him. What he did was fucked up, and he knows it. But I’ve known Rafe a long time, and I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s a mess without you. He won’t admit it, but it’s obvious to anyone who’s paying attention.”
You shook your head, “If he really cared, he would’ve told me. He would’ve tried.”
“Maybe he’s scared,” Jessica offered. “I mean, he’s always been good at screwing things up. Pushing people away before they get too close. It’s like his defense mechanism or something.”
You laughed bitterly. “Well, he succeeded. He pushed me so far away, I don’t think I can ever come back.”
“I get it. But just don’t close yourself off completely. If there’s even a small part of you that still cares about him, maybe give him a chance to explain. He’s not perfect, but he’s not the guy who made that bet anymore.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. 
“Why do you care?”
“Because I hurt him even though I cared for him. What I did was a lot worse, so— Yeah. He lashes out when he’s hurt, unfortunately you got caught in the way. But the way he looks at you? We dated for two years and that motherfucker never looked at me like that."
You felt like crying all over again.
You nodded slowly. You had let Rafe see you, let him into parts of your life that you didn’t share with just anyone. And then, just like that, he had shattered everything.
Her voice broke through your thoughts again.
“I’m not saying you should forgive him, or even take him back. That’s your choice, and no one can make it for you. But I just wanted you to know that he’s different with you. Maybe he doesn’t deserve another chance, but I think he’s trying to be better because of you.”
“I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s okay,” Jessica said gently. “Trust isn’t something that can be fixed overnight. It takes time. But maybe it’s worth considering—if you think he’s worth it.”
You sat in silence for a while, the noise of the locker room fading into the background as you both lost yourselves in your thoughts. You had been so sure that moving on was the only way forward, that putting as much distance between you and Rafe as possible was the best option.
With that, she stood up, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading toward the exit. You watched her go. You had never really thought much about Jessica beyond the typical assumptions. She was Rafe’s ex, the girl who had been with him before you, your cheer squad captain. That was the extent of it. You’d never really seen parts of the real her. You knew she’d left him for someone else, but you strangely felt a connection to her. Like she was the only one listening, understanding how you really felt.
You hadn’t expected her to be so… human. Vulnerable. 
You leaned back against the cold metal of the locker, staring at the ceiling. The idea of trusting him again seemed impossible, like trying to glue together a shattered vase with pieces still missing. But what Jessica had said struck a chord—he was different with you. You’d seen it too, those moments when he’d let his guard down, when he’d been genuine, real.
Practice started, but your mind wasn’t in it. Your movements felt mechanical, your usual enthusiasm gone. You kept replaying everything in your head. By the end of practice, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
Back in your room, you dropped your bag by the door and collapsed onto your bed. The familiar surroundings offered little comfort. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your messages, half-expecting one from Rafe that never came. 
But maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a sledgehammer the wall between you two.  You sat up, taking a deep breath. If you were going to do this—if you were going to even entertain the idea of talking to Rafe—you needed to be honest with yourself first. You still cared about him. You’d tried to bury those feelings, tried to convince yourself that you were over it, but the truth was, you weren’t. Not completely. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed your phone and opened a new message.
We need to talk.
Your finger hovered over the send button for what felt like an eternity. Once you pressed it, there was no going back. But maybe that was the point. You couldn’t keep living in this limbo, caught between the past and the future.
With a final deep breath, you hit send.
The wait felt unbearable. You stared at your phone, willing it to light up, to give you some kind of response. And then, just when you were about to give up, it buzzed in your hand.
Rafe: Yeah, we do. Tonight?
Oh god.
Where?
You were really doing this.
Rafe: Your dorm?
Was talking to the boy who shattered your heart and trust in a secluded place a good idea? No. But you were tired.
Okay.
You set your phone down, heart racing. The reality of what you’d just agreed to hit you like a punch, leaving you feeling both terrified and relieved. You’d spent so long avoiding this conversation, but now there was no more running.
As you waited, every minute felt like an eternity. You tried to distract yourself, but your mind kept wandering back to the idea of seeing him again, of hearing his voice, of looking into those eyes that had once made you feel safe. Now, they were just a reminder of the pain.
When a knock finally echoed through your dorm room, you jumped. For a moment, you debated not answering, pretending you weren’t there. But you couldn’t keep avoiding this forever. You crossed the room, your hand hesitating on the doorknob before you pulled it open.
Rafe stood there, looking more nervous than you’d ever seen him. His usual confident posture was gone.He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge how much of a mess he’d made.
“Hi,” he said, his voice low, uncertain.
You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The door closed behind him with a soft click, the sound somehow amplifying the tension between you. You both stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing where to start.
He was the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words rushed, like he’d been holding them in for too long. “For everything. I was an idiot, and I—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “You were.”
Rafe flinched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded, accepting your anger like he knew he deserved it. He looked down at the floor, his hands clenched at his sides.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, “I screwed up. I know that. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to fix it, but I don’t know how.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep a distance between you both, both physically and emotionally. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of all the unanswered questions. “Why did you let it get to this point?”
“I was terrified,” he murmured, his voice so soft it almost broke. “Of what you’d think of me. Of how you’d see me if you knew the truth. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“But you did,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your hurt. “You lost me the moment you chose to lie.”
Rafe’s throat tightened as he swallowed, his nod filled with anguish. “I know. And I despise myself for it. But I—God, I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like everything spiraled out of control, and by the time I realized how deep I was, it was too late.”
It didn’t feel right to tell you he loved you right now. It would be unfair to you. It would feel like he was only saying it to get you back. So he settled for anything else.
You could see the struggle in him, the way his hands fidgeted slightly, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. He was here, in front of you, trying to make things right—or at least as right as they could be after what he’d done.
“Rafe,” you started, your voice calmer than you felt, “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you did. The way you hurt me—it’s not something that just goes away because you’re sorry.”
He took a step closer, his hands shaking as he reached out to you but stopped himself, not daring to touch you without permission.  “I get it,” he said quietly. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just—” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “I just want you to know that I’m trying to change. I’m trying to be better, even if it’s too late for us.”
You let out a slow breath, your heart still aching, but something in his voice, the way he seemed so genuinely broken, tugged at you. “I can’t just pretend like everything is okay.”
“I don’t want you to,” Rafe said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. “I don’t deserve that. But I can’t stand the thought of losing you completely. Even if you don’t forgive me, I still want you in my life.”
You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. It was hard to reconcile this version of him with the one who had shattered your trust. But maybe that was the point—people were complicated, and sometimes they didn’t fit neatly into the boxes you wanted them to.
“We can try to be friends. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying it’ll work, but we can try.”
“I’d like that. I’d really like that,” he said, his voice almost breaking. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
Friends.
The word sounded weird when you said it out loud.
The first few interactions were awkward—half-hearted smiles, stilted conversations, but both of you were trying. You started to see each other around campus more often, exchanging brief greetings that gradually turned into longer conversations. Rafe kept his distance, respecting your boundaries, but it was clear he was trying. He showed up at places he knew you'd be—not in a creepy way, but more like he wanted to be near you, to remind you that he was still there.
There were moments when the old him, your Rafe, the one who had made you laugh and pulled you into adventures, would slip through. He’d make a sarcastic comment in class, and you’d catch yourself smiling. Or he’d casually bring you coffee during your study sessions, just the way you liked it, without making a big deal out of it. 
You started to remember why you had fallen for him in the first place—his humor, his kindness, the way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you began to let your guard down, a voice in the back of your head reminded you of the bet. You were friends, that was it. 
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter as you and Rafe sat across from each other, trays of food between you. It had become something of a routine—meeting up for lunch between classes. What had started as an awkward attempt to maintain your friendship had slowly become one of the highlights of your day. The easy banter was back, the kind that had drawn you to him in the first place, and it was nice to feel some semblance of normalcy returning between you two.
As you took a bite of your sandwich, you noticed Rafe was unusually quiet, focused intently on you. It made you self-conscious, the way his eyes seemed to see straight through you, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little under his scrutiny.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you tried to sound casual.
He just shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“About how good it feels to have this again,” he said softly, his words wrapping around your heart and squeezing tight.
Before you could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. “Hey, Rafe.”
You both looked up to see a girl from your econ class standing beside your table. She was pretty, with a confident smile that didn’t waver even as she glanced between the two of you. You recognized her—Luíza, or something like that. 
“Hi,” Rafe replied, his tone polite but distracted. His eyes flickered back to you almost immediately, as if he was already bored with the conversation.
She didn’t seem to notice—or care. She flashed him a bright smile and leaned a little closer, clearly ignoring your presence. “Wondering if you’d want to study together for the next exam? I’m struggling with some of the material, and you seem like you really know your stuff.”
Well, he did. Because you were smart enough for both of you and a hell of a tutor. 
He barely spared her a glance, his focus still on you. “I’m good, thanks,” he said casually, picking up his drink and taking a sip.
She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his disinterest, but she quickly recovered. “Oh, come on,” she purred, undeterred. “I’m sure we could help each other out. Maybe over dinner?”
You felt a wave of irritation rising, but before you could say anything, Rafe finally looked at her, “I’m not interested,” he said bluntly, then turned back to you, his eyes softening instantly. “So, what were you saying?”
The sudden change in his demeanor caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Luíza, clearly realizing she was getting nowhere, shot you a glare before muttering something under her breath and walking away, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. 
You stared after her, your heart pounding. When you finally turned back to him, he was watching you with an amused expression, as if nothing had happened.
“What the hell was that?” you demanded.
He just shrugged, completely unfazed. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t have to be so rude to her,” you snapped, though part of you was secretly pleased. “She was just being nice.”
Rafe leaned back in his chair, giving you that infuriatingly calm look. “She wasn’t just being nice, and y’know it.”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Still, you could’ve handled it better.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. “Why would I? I wasn’t interested. You know who I want.”
Him and his stupid mouth. 
The directness of his words sent a shiver down your spine. There was no mistaking the meaning behind them, and it made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words died on your lips. Instead, you just stared at him.
Rafe seemed to take pity on you, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I’m not playing games here,” his gaze locked onto yours, “You’re the only one I’m interested in. No one else.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all the doubts and uncertainties you’d been holding onto felt insignificant. You wanted to argue, to tell him off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to think straight.
You took a deep breath, clearing your thoughts, “This doesn’t change anything,” you muttered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.
“I know.”
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The week had been a blur of exams, stress, and late-night study sessions. Your head was spinning from all the notes, formulas, and flashcards when Rafe found you slumped over your desk in the library.
“You need a break,” he said, gently tapping the back of your chair with his foot.
You sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. “I can’t. I still have two more chapters to get through before tomorrow.”
“Trust me,” Rafe insisted, “Come on sweets, let’s go shoot some hoops.”
You looked at him skeptically. “You know I’m terrible at it.”
“That’s why I’m going to teach you,” he grinned, his confidence contagious. “Come on, you’ve been helping me study all week.”
Reluctantly, you let him pull you out of the library and onto the campus basketball court. It was empty, the sun just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the pavement.
He handed you a basketball, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”
You dribbled the ball awkwardly, trying to recall the little you knew about the game. When you attempted a shot, the ball sailed way off the mark, bouncing across the court.
He laughed, jogging over to retrieve it. “Alright, not bad for a first try. Lemme show you how it’s done.”
He stood behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. His hands guided yours, positioning the ball just right. “Keep your elbows in, aim for the backboard, and follow through with your wrists. Like this.”
You tried to focus on his instructions, but it was difficult with him so close, his breath warm against your ear. You missed him. You made the shot, and though it didn’t go in, it was closer than your last attempt.
“Better!” he encouraged, still holding your hands on the ball. You could feel his heartbeat through your back. 
You turned your head slightly, and your eyes met his. Rafe’s attention dropped to your lips, his grip on the ball tightening. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the same one that had been gnawing at you for days. This wasn’t just friendship—you were aware of that, of course. There was always something more here. 
Without thinking, you stepped back to face him fully, and in that instant, your foot caught on his, throwing you off balance. You fell forward, your hands clutching at his shirt for support as you tumbled against his chest. His strong arms wrapped around you instinctively, steadying you as you both laughed, the moment both awkward and perfect. You were so close now, his face inches from yours, your breath mingling in the space between you. The laughter faded, and so did your common sense, because you didn’t push him away. His hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.
“Rafe...” you began, but the words caught in your throat.
You knew that look in his face. You knew every little thing about him. It was as if he was asking for permission, waiting for you to make the next move. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve in your body screaming at you to close the gap between you. But before you could act on it, the sound of voices echoed from the other side of the court, breaking the spell.
Oh god. You were about to ruin everything. 
You both stepped back. Rafe looked away, a pained expression crossing his face, eyes pitched closed as he ran a hand through his hair.
“We should, uh, probably get back to studying.”
“Yeah."
As you walked back to the library, side by side but not quite touching, you couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted. And from the way Rafe kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, you knew he was thinking the same thing.
He opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you passed. The touch was brief, but it was enough to send your heart racing again. Once inside, you both settled back into your usual spot, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. But studying felt impossible now. Every time you looked up, you caught Rafe’s eyes lingering on you, only for him to quickly look away when you noticed.
After what felt like an eternity of trying—and failing—to focus, he finally broke the silence. “Look, about what happened back there…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
You shook your head quickly, trying to dismiss his concern. “It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
No. Not at all. You missed everything about him even when he was standing so close to you.
His fingers drummed against the table as he debated his next words, but you beat him to it.
“It’s just… things are different now,” your attention dropped to the open book in front of you. 
“Different how?” His voice was low, almost tentative, a rare thing for Rafe. He leaned in slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.
You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to look up, “Can we not do this right now? Please? ‘M really tired."
His shoulders slumped. He wanted to argue, to push you for more, but he could see the exhaustion in your eyes—the way this was all taking a toll on you. He nodded slowly, swallowing back the urge to fight.
"Yeah, okay," he leaned back in his chair. "We can just focus on studying."
But neither of you could focus. You kept your eyes on the pages of your book, but the words blurred together, your mind unable to process anything other than the way Rafe was sitting so close yet felt so far away.
Minutes ticked by, the silence between you stretching on, both of you too afraid to break it. You could feel him watching you, his gaze a weight that you couldn’t ignore, but you didn’t dare to look up, not trusting yourself with what you might see in his eyes.
Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "I can’t do this," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.
You glanced up, your heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability on his face. He looked torn, like he was fighting an internal battle that he didn’t know how to win.
"Do what?" 
“Pretend like everything’s fine. Like we’re just friends. Because we’re not, and we both know it."
The honesty in his voice made your throat tighten. You’d been trying so hard to keep things simple, to keep your emotions in check.
“You said you’d take anything I give you. It's been a month.”
Rafe groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “I know that. And you’re my friend, fuck, you’re my best friend but every time I look at you— I feel like I’m dying.”
“What do you think I feel like?” you snapped, slamming your book shut. “You wanna talk about hurt feelings?
His face paled, and for a moment, he looked as though he might argue back, but then he just sighed, defeated.
“I know, okay? I know I messed up. And I’m not asking for you to forget that,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “But pretending like we can just go back to being friends is killing me.”
“I don't want to talk about it."
He stared at you, his eyes searching your face for something—anything—that would give him a clue about what you were feeling. But you couldn’t look at him, not with your heart so conflicted, not with the memories of how things used to be clashing so violently with the reality of now.
Finally, you spoke, “I think I need time.”
“Time for what?” he asked, his tone careful, but you could hear the desperation beneath it. He needed to understand, needed to know if there was still hope.
“To be away from you,” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat as his face fell into a frown, “Maybe it’s too early.”
He didn’t push you. He just nodded.
“Okay. Take all the time you need,” he said even though you could tell it was killing him to say it. “I’ll be here. Waiting. No matter how long it takes.”
You nodded, unable to say anything else. 
“I think I should go,” you said finally, standing up and gathering your things. You couldn’t handle being around him right now, not when your feelings were exposed.
Rafe stood too, but he didn’t try to stop you. He just watched you with that same look of quiet desperation, as if he was afraid that letting you go now meant losing you forever
“Okay.”
You turned to leave, but then you hesitated, your heart pulling you back. Without turning around, you whispered, “I’ll see you later, Rafe.”
He didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if he even heard you. But then he said, “I’ll be here.”
And as you walked away, your chest tight and your thoughts racing, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you and Rafe could ever really go back to the way they were.
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sjyuns · 1 year ago
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🗒️ 、 INTENTIONS
popular sunghoon x fem reader 1535 words genre fluff mikaela’s note because sunghoon is so tristan dugray coded, inspired by a gilmore girls scene
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“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” Sunghoon mumbles, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips.
He holds your gaze confidently, with a tinge of arrogance as his tongue darts out to lick his lip. You think that Sunghoon is the most annoying person in the world, because how can he look so devilishly handsome and have such an intoxicating effect on you.
It all started when he showed up unannounced and uninvited to your birthday party — still in his school uniform, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up with his blazer hanging over his shoulder.
And you should have known better than to let him charm his way into your house. “What are you doing here, Hoon?”
He loves the way his nickname rolls off the tip of your tongue, it's so addictive and he wants to record it so that he can play it again and again, even if your tone is one of spite.
“Happy birthday princess,” Sunghoon completely ignores your words, taking steps closer towards you, “now, where’s my birthday kiss?”
He’s at it again, aimlessly flirting with you. You roll your eyes, a deep sigh exiting your mouth, “it’s my birthday, Hoon.” How did he even know where you lived? You were sure you told everyone you invited not to bring him along.
“So I’ll give you a birthday kiss,” he grins, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches your facial expressions fall, ears burning red as you quickly turn around.
You hate Park Sunghoon and the unimaginable hold he has on you. “I’m going to find my mother. Do not, I swear to god, cause any trouble.”
“Your mother? It’s a little early in the relationship,” he moves swiftly to your side, arms casually slinging over your shoulder as he pulls you closer into him forcefully. “But it’s okay, I’m ready.”
Where in the world does Sunghoon get his cocky attitude from, you think as you try your best to pry and lift his arm away from your shoulder. Despite your surface indifference towards his advances, there were millions of butterflies invading your stomach at his every single action.
Before you can even try to escape, a voice calls your name and you stop to talk to Yunjin. “Park Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”
Sunghoon steals a glance at you, and he thinks you look absolutely adorable as you pout at the image of multiple people seeing you with him; given how you always seemed to have complaints about his overly flirty nature and playboy ways.
But Sunghoon hasn’t fooled around since you transferred into Decelis two months ago, a personal record for him. At first all you were was a form of entertainment, someone who had cute reactions to his smooth pick up lines.
Then it all came crashing down, when he started to feel the need to bicker with you everyday and mess up your hair every time he sees you in the hallways. And somewhere in between the blurred lines, he fell in love.
“Here to celebrate my girl’s birthday,” he cocks his head towards you, who’s palms now cover your face in sheer embarrassment. God, now it’s going to spread like wildfire. His girl?
Yunjin’s eyes widen and jaw drops, “really? You guys are together? But I thought you were with Choi Soobin.” She asks, nudging you.
Sunghoon frowns at her words. Choi Soobin? Since when? Sunghoon literally follows you around school whenever he sees you, and he’s never seen you ever talk to that boy.
“Soobin and I are just friends,” you clarify, “also we are not a couple,” your finger gesturing to you and Sunghoon as you answer the girl.
“Tomorrow we’ll be a couple,” Sunghoon cuts back into the conversation, voice loud, and he catches your surprised expression as he smirks slyly.
Though he continues the conversation without a single stutter or break, Sunghoon’s feeling utterly disgusted. Is that the kind of boy you like? Nerdy losers who can’t do anything for the life of themselves? He doesn’t really like the thought of turning into those types of boys, but whatever you want, he thinks — he’s already practised abstinence for you, he might as well go all the way.
At the same time Sunghoon wonders if you’re really that oblivious to his obvious advancements towards you. He’s made it crystal clear: dumped his girlfriend, follows you around, talks about you literally all the time, and yet you’re still clueless.
And he whisks you away before you find the chance to clarify his words again. He’s determined this time round, to make it extremely straightforward for you.
“Hoon why in the world would you say stuff like that,” you groan, hands slapping his chest. And he grins like an idiot at your touch, if this was what it took for you to initiate skinship with him, he’d be more than willing to proclaim himself as your boyfriend any day.
He places a hand on the place you’d just hit, “it’s painful,” he pouts, and you almost feel a little guilty at your harsh actions, “can you kiss it better?”
Until that. You huff, “i’m leaving,” you announce as you turn away, ready to walk right back into the crowd. Sunghoon quickly clasps his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into his chest.
Your eyes become those of a deer caught in headlights as your body is pressed firmly against his, his arms finding their way to your waist; a gentle but firm hold as he bends down.
“Wasn’t done yet, princess,” he smirks, and you feel some sort of danger looming over because Sunghoon looks like a devil enticing you to commit sin. His black hair styles perfectly like always and his red tie, due to his excessive movements, is now dropping down even more to expose his honey skinned collarbones.
The most you can muster is a mumble, “what,” and your eyes are glassy as you stare up at him, he thinks he might go insane — so close to just moving in to place a kiss on your invitingly soft lips.
“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” and he literally spits the term out, unable to believe he’s labelling someone else other than him ‘your boyfriend’. He knows you guys aren’t together, but just for the comfort of his heart he has to hear it again.
It takes you a while before you process his words. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hoon,” and it’s that short statement coupled with the way you say his name that really breaks it for him.
Sunghoon moves in just as you finish your sentence, and he sinks into your pillowy lips. It’s paradise on earth and he thinks he will never be able to get enough of this feeling.
“Sunghoon,” you mumble when he breaks the kiss, slightly out of breath as you look up with hazy eyes.
He chuckles, “sorry, baby, my bad. I’ll return your kiss back,” and Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to give you another kiss, fingers caressing your waist as he pulls you closer to him.
This time it’s you who breaks the kiss, way too out of breath to even form full sentences without a few breaks in between. “You just kissed me.”
“Right, I just did that baby,” he smiles, those tiny fangs of his showcased as he gazes adoringly at you. “Actually, I’m looking for a girlfriend.” He pauses, eyeing your flushed cheeks and pink lips, “you looking for a boyfriend by any chance, princess?”
Now that you’re literally glued onto Sunghoon, you take the chance to look at him. Sharp nose, pretty moles that you could probably trace along all day, and his eyes which contrasting to his calm demeanour, held anxiousness as he waited for you to answer.
You’ve thought about dating Sunghoon before. Multiple times. Way more than you should’ve. And you never wanted to ever confess to it, because he was everyone’s crush. And not only that, he was annoying — constantly teasing you and making you flustered by his actions. You’d curse every time your heartbeat started to accelerate at his flirty words. You had thought that there was no way he’d ever like you back.
“I’m looking for a boyfriend,” you admit, letting out a soft giggle at Sunghoon’s overjoyed expression. And you decide that maybe now’s the time to get back at him, tease him a little to get him to stay on his toes, “maybe I should go find Soobin.”
His shoulders drop almost immediately and his arms wrap around your waist securely, chin resting on the top of your head. “No fucking way,” he grumbles, “you’re my girlfriend now. And I’m your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, you are,” you say, voice muffled in the embrace of Sunghoon. And you hear him giggle slightly, the rumble of his chest exposing the boyish feelings your boyfriend was currently going through, “for now.”
Sunghoon lifts his chin from your head, fingers brushing over your cheeks before they land themselves on your jaw. He tilts your chin up, “too bad my intention is forever.” And he places a chaste kiss on your lips again and again.
You are in for a long ride.
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© SJYUNS
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honey-flustered · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition
Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex
Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.
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A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think
You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.
But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.
Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.
You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.
“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”
“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”
“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”
“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.
His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—
“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”
“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”
“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.
“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”
“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.
“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.
“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.
“Then, what happens?” You mewl.
“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.
“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”
“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”
“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.
“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.
“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”
“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.
“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”
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jj-one · 9 months ago
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SALTY & SWEET 🥣
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pairing: established relationship, nerdy bf!dom!Jungkook x gf!reader, jk is around 21/22 in this genre/tags: smut, (some) fluff, angst, degradation, praise kink, oral (m receiving), facef*cking, food play, c*m play, c*m eating, use of word daddy (once) words: 981
**old repost from my deleted blog
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Oh you sad, sad little thing… always finding yourself in these compromising situations. The whole morning went as normal with Jungkook, he was super nice to you and smothered you with lots of loving kisses! But once he arrived back home from classes his entire mood shifted completely.
“Get on your knees, wanna use that pretty little mouth of yours right now.” Jungkook was hovering over you as you sat down.
You were just minding your business on the couch eating a bowl of strawberries when he said that to you.
“W-what?” Your eyes bug out of your head like a deer in headlights.
“Did I stutter? On your knees NOW!” His voice becomes more stern.
You squirm to get up, not wanting to waste another minute incase he gets angrier. Your body feels shaky from his intimidating persona, he usually comes off as sweet and caring but when he’s mad he becomes almost sadistic.
It didn’t take long for him to end up down your throat. All 7 inches of him being taken by you. You kept choking and gagging but the more you did it the more Jungkook would just keep pushing your head back down. His fingers latching onto your hair and thrusting his hips harder to get more of his cock deeper in your throat.
“C’mon, you can take it like the little pathetic slut you are. You’re my precious little pup right?”
His words made you so fucking wet for him.
You wanted to please him in the best way you could. Bobbing your head back and forth, his spit combined with your saliva all over your face. Jungkook likes it messy though, he also loves shooting his load out on your face after a long day. You acted like nothing but a toy for him to use, just a fuckdoll he can manipulate and dump all his cum into when he’s frustrated.
His glasses were sliding down to his nose as he keeps lowering his head to get a finer view of you. Your fucked out face was so angelic to him, so divine… you looked the most beautiful when you had Jungkook’s cock buried in your mouth.
“There atta-girl… such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” The way he talks to you will be your true weakness.
You had to prove your love to him. Your devotion. You wanted his cum as a reward so you had to work hard for it and push through the pain. You try humming to loosen up your vocal cords and take him better, the vibrations sent chills up his spine and he almost lost his balance for a second. Feeling the way he throbbed and twitched on your tongue made you moan against his shaft.
“Fuck yeah… good girl my good little fucking princess…”
You kept letting him throatfuck you and the tears came rolling down now. He loved seeing you become a crying fucked out mess for him, it filled his heart with the utmost joy.
“Aww.. my darling’s getting teary eyed, can’t take all of it huh??”
Your jaw hurts so bad but you can’t stop now, you have only one goal to achieve and that was to make your boyfriend cum all over your pretty face. His cock slammed into your uvula and you made a loud gagging noise, he would just grin and keep pushing hisself in you relentlessly. He laughed at your misery, the way your knees buckled and quivered while being under him.
He wouldn’t be laughing for too much longer though, one more thrust to the back of your throat would leave him nearly unable to talk. His body felt paralyzed. Eyes were violently rolling to the back of his head as he feels his release approaching. He jerks his hips back and quickly pulls out of your mouth. He doesn’t bring his cock to your face though, instead his attention is drawn to the bowl of strawberries you were eating from earlier.
He stands in front of it on the couch and viciously strokes his cock, large white ropes of cum come trickling down onto the fresh strawberries. Once he finishes he looks back at you now with an evil grin.
“Get on all fours for me doll.” He instructs you.
You do as you’re told, getting on your hands and knees, crawling your way towards him. He takes ones of the strawberries— that are now all coated with his hot delicious cum and brings it to your lips.
“Open wide.”
You open your mouth and he plops the strawberry in, you immediately close your mouth to start chewing. The strawberry was so sweet and juicy while Jungkook’s cum was warm and salty, this might be the perfect combination you’ve ever tried.
“Taste’s good right princess?”
You nod your head and finally speak “Yes, so yummy daddy, want to eat more!”
“Then go ahead, eat more.”
You dip your face in the bowl of strawberries and eat another one. You can’t get over how good his cum tastes with the savory fruit. He pets the top of your head like you were a kitten, just grinning at the sight of you eagerly eating his cum.
“Such a naughty little girl… you really are a huge slut.” He degrades you more, wrapping his hand around your neck as he lifts you from being on all fours.
You’re back on your knees again facing him while he kept a tight grip on you. The way this man had you so down bad for him, you were willing to let him do absolutely anything to satisfy his needs. Your body couldn’t stop trembling under his touch, he had you perfectly the way he wanted.
“Still look so pretty, even after sucking off my cock..” his hold on you was only getting tighter at this point.
“So obedient for me, always.”
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luvvyouforever · 9 months ago
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harvey (sdv) - nsfw alphabet <3
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-> there is not nearly enough harvey content on tumblr for my liking. SO two harvey posts in a row, yes i do believe. and i do love reading an sfw/nsfw alphabet so of course i have to provide for our favorite nerdy doctor <3 i also want you to know that as i write this, i imagine harvey as a taller, bigger man. so like he's got some chub on him and he's got broad shoulders. idk idk it's my headcanon.
-> this is nsfw and dirty! like i really tried to get over my reservations about using descriptive language. with that being said, NSFW 18+ MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
harvey is the sweetest, most gentlemanly partner after sex. he makes sure that you get cleaned up, that you protect yourself against any UTIs or other gross things, makes you some coffee or tea, and cuddles with you endlessly. harvey would need some extra reassurance that what he did was good, that you enjoyed it, or that you didn't get hurt. he'd get anxious and worry about it for the rest of the night if you didn't offer him some kind of honest discussion.
b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
i think he appreciates his arms and hands! he knows that he has some strength and likes when you can grip on to his biceps in the heat of the moment. knows how to work his hands i mean, come on. he can do minor surgical interventions. if you hold onto his arm while you're walking in town, he'd get all blushy.
as for you, he truthfully loves every part of you. if you ever asked him "what part of me is your favorite?" he would actually stress over it and couldn't answer. however, if you really really wanted him to say, he would choose your eyes. there's nothing better to him than looking at them when he's giving you pleasure. sends him reeling, actually.
c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
i don't think harvey is particularly keen on making a mess, especially of the bed or another surface. he'd try to keep his cum inside of you, or at least contained to an easily wipeable surface (like your face). on the down low though, i truthfully think he'd surprisingly enjoy cumming on your face, mainly around your lips. messy oral? he's done for.
d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
meeting dr. harvey in his office for a confidential check-up? hmm. definitely not when you first start dating, but give him some time and you may just find yourself on his desk (never in the actual, sterile field) receiving a little extra attention wink wink nudge nudge
e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he has plenty of knowledge about anatomy, trust me. he never struggles with finding your best spots. however, he struggles with foreplay and building intimacy and dirty talk, etc. he's a nerd! what can i say? tell him what you like, guide him, and help him and he'd be confident in no time. he's a quick learner.
f = favorite position (this goes without saying)
so, i think there are two sides to harvey. he is either incredible slow, passionate, and earnest. this lends itself to something simple like missionary where he can stare into your eyes, kiss you, tell you sweet things, etc. his other side comes out later, when he's gotten more comfortable with you and with himself, and he can get a little rougher or faster or intense. he likes to be able to grip on to you so something like doggy, maybe riding?
g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
harvey can't help but be clumsy sometimes. he learns to be able to giggle at himself when his hand misses the bed and he falls. he also can't help but giggle when hair gets caught in your mouth or some other silly thing. however, he likes to keep things intimate and prefers to have a serious moment with you in bed.
h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
i don't think he fully shaves, he just doesn't strike me as that kinda guy with his mustache. but i do think he trims it, kinda manscapes it a little bit to tame everything down but he likes to have a little hair down there.
i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
loves making sex romantic. he doesn't do it often, but on special days like your anniversary or birthday, he will harvest some flowers from the farm and throw the petals around the room, open up some freshly made wine, and showers you in affection. as for every day sex, he still likes to make it special for you and never backs down on his pure, teeth-hurting sweetness.
j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
i think that he is the kinda guy that starts feeling guilty for masturbating after he gets into a relationship. prefers to just wait for you. however, before your relationship, he would masturbate every once in a while when he was stressed or horny. if he ever watched porn, which i feel like would be very rare for him, he wouldn't watch highly produced, fake porn. it would have to be something amateur. (harvey has a secret twitter account)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
okay so...i think harvey starts out vanilla. when you're getting to know him and for the first few times you have sex, he keeps it simple. mainly out of nervousness. however, i think he's kinkier than we might assume. i think he really enjoys being praised and praising you. i think, too, he likes feeling big and strong in that he gives in to his possessiveness sometimes, and he likes being able to manhandle you a little bit. also, i propose this everyone....bondage? nothing super strong! just with his tie or belt. and your hands. to the headboard.
l = location (favorite places to do the do)
your bedroom, mostly! he has a reputation that he needs to uphold so anything in public is nerve wracking. but with some convincing, like i said, his fancy office is not totally off limits.
m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
seeing you do anything! especially if you're really determined to get something done and you're working hard at it! like, you've been working so damn hard on renovating and cleaning the farm and you come back proud of everything you've done, he will look at you with a glow in his face. kisses on the neck, too!
n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
i don't think he'd ever hurt you. it's just not something he could ever see himself doing. he doesn't mind seeing like fingertip marks on you the day after but anything like choking, spanking, etc is out of the question. he also would find rudeness a turn off in a person. like he would hate to see anyone be rude to another person and it would take away from someone's attractiveness immediately! (that's not to say that he doesn't enjoy some town gossip here and there)
o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
my first headcanon here is that harvey LOVES giving oral and on the days when he hasn't cleanly shaved his face, his stubble leaves marks around your thighs. okay, now that that's out of the way: harvey is such a pleaser and he'd do anything to make sure you feel good. he likes when you guide his head, mouth, or hands and he likes being told if you want more, or faster, or less. as for him receiving, i think he enjoys it but he gets so in his head that he can't really cum from it. it takes some extra praise and reassurance to get him to fully open up.
p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
like every other answer here, it depends on his mood! he can get really fast when he's feeling extra needy or kinky. however, when he's trying to be romantic, he will take his sweet time and go nice and slow with his thrusts, movements, touches. however, i think he could also use slowness to his advantage and tease you.
q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
prefers to take his time but sometimes he likes to catch you before you wake up and start working on the farm and before he has to go to work. he enjoys these more than he will admit to himself though and he thinks it can be fun!!
r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he's down to try new things, don't get me wrong! if you wanna try something new, he'll let you to an extent but he won't do anything that comes with a dangerous outcome or health risk! like, sure, he might be down to try some new rope positions but he won't dare put chocolate sauce around his genitals. do you know the bacteria risks that can come with that??
s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
i don't think he has very high stamina. it's not that he gets really sleepy after, but he can't go for multiple rounds. maybe two if it's been a long time since he's seen you. he can last a while though, i think. he won't cum the minute he engages in anything and with his anxiety, it may even take him a while to get to that point.
t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he doesn't mind bringing out a vibrator because he knows how good it could make you feel. he doesn't like them on himself though! he doesn't mind taking a trip out to zuzu and hitting up a sex shop to buy some new bondage-y toys. they will be thoroughly cleaned though. why would nipple clamps be any less clean than forceps?
u = unfair (how much they like to tease)
he doesn't do it with malice in his heart, trust me. he just likes seeing you on edge, waiting for him of all people, begging for more pleasure. he experiments to see how long you can go for, or how far he can drag out oral. he definitely enjoys it more than he'd let on. oh, and, i leave you with this, imagine harvey offering fake pity and cooing at you:
"my poor flower...you must want it so bad!"
v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
keeps quiet, mostly. some interjections of grunts and groans, especially when he cums. he uses his voice more for sweet talk! he loves hearing your noises, though, and it gives him more encouragement than anything.
w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
the first time you called him dr. harvey in a joking, yet somewhat flirtatious manner, he blushed and got incredibly flustered. then, you did it again, and it had the same effect. and then...oh lord. your hands were roaming his body and you, just testing the waters, called him dr. harvey and he could have finished right there.
x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he's big guys, i'm sorry. nerdy white men are always packing. i headcanon him as a big boy and it's only fitting that he's proportionate. more thickness than length. he was a little ashamed the first time you had sex but he realized just how good it feels and it makes him proud. big dick energy if you will.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
i think he has a fluctuating sex drive. during flu and cold season, he is so stressed and likes to come back and make dinner, cuddle, and go to bed. however, during the summer, when everyone is healthy and only needs some aloe vera gel for sunburns, he could go day after day with you. it just all depends on his mood and the time of the year.
z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he enjoys cuddling and talking after sex but give him an hour and the man is CONKED. he's the older bachelor so of course he's a sleepy man. cuddle up to his chest, open up the window to let fresh air or the sounds of rain float in, and he'll be like a baby.
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takes1 · 4 days ago
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bokuto flirting with inexperienced!reader
nobody asked for this but i can't get this idea out of my head. second time i've written a kuroo's little sister thing and it just seems to read well imo?
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warnings. nsfw themes, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / kuroo's little sister!reader / touchy!bokuto / flirty!bokuto / corruption kink!bokuto / virgin!reader / nerdy!reader / kuroo cockblocking / house party / protective kuroo / bokuto being a bad friend / bokuto crushing on you / 2.7k nsfw to follow, reply to be added to taglist
links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my request box.
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"The guys are comin' over at twelve." Tetsurou informed you with a flat tone. He didn't even look up from his phone as he swiped a banana from the counter.
"Don't care."
Your parents were gone on another business trip, meaning this weekend was a free for all. Your version of fun wouldn't sway far from your usual path, staying up, playing games on your laptop after you were done studying for finals; your older brother gravitated towards more social hobbies.
"Sooo, like," He spared a glance to see what you were doing, "Fuckin' scram. Before then."
Papers, handouts, and notebooks littered the breakfast counter. Your laptop played an educational video from one of your classes and you had propped your phone to look at another online text. One highlighter hit the floor a while ago but you hadn't picked it up yet.
When you didn't acknowledge him, completely in the zone, he scrunched up his nose.
"Did you hear me, dumbass?"
"Shuuuut-the-fuck-up-I'm-doooiiing-somethiiing."
In a colored pen, you inked in a corresponding bar from a practice problem so you could visualize the axes.
If you had checked the time, you would know you had maybe ten minutes before twelve to 'scram.'
One could smell the attitude coming off of him from a mile away. Though he didn't say anything to you, it was made crystal clear in the way he sucked his teeth at you and shoved a chair before he walked upstairs.
It wasn't, and would never be, explicitly spoken, but the reason he didn't want you around was because he knew some friends were just too weird around girls. Kenma was the only friend he trusted to be alone in a room with you, and that was because he didn't like anyone. The roster of guys coming over to play some Xbox, play a match in the backyard, drink up your parents' liquor, and sleep over could've been a suspect line if was asked to judge their moral character.
Your slow, neat line of pen for your next graph became a scribbled mess in less than a second as the doorbell started ringing in a slew of rapid presses.
DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING
"Get the door!" You yelled to the stairway, frustration waning only after a nasty sigh.
There was too much to move to your room. You didn't have enough space on your desk for a spread like this, even if you moved every current thing off of it.
Footsteps padded swift back down the steps, not even getting the opportunity to do what he intended to upstairs, and he jabbed a finger at you but you couldn't see.
"Hey!" He shouted. Like he was offended you raised your voice at him to grab the door.
You slammed your palms on the counter and took a breath to yell, just before he called to you from the door, incredibly stern, "Fuck off somewhere else."
"Get the stick out of your ass!" You rolled your eyes and, then and there, decided to not move for anything.
Tetsurou gritted his teeth and pulled open the door, but it didn't nothing to stop Bokuto from pressing the doorbell. Next to him was Akaashi, patiently watching the button-pressing. It was raining, so that meant no practice match; they would have to stay entertained inside.
His big, cheesy grin was hardly a relief, "Hey hey heyy, buddyy!"
"Hey," He said, distracted, thinking about how disastrous this might turn out. He wondered if it was too late to reserve space in the gym, or even cancel.
"Woah-ho-ho," Bokuto giggled at his less-than-enthusiastic greeting and squeezed past him, unwilling to wait outside for any longer, "Don't sound so excited!"
The big, hulking presence stopped in the doorway, hastily removing his wet jacket and shoes. He retold the events of getting here in the rain, sparing Akaashi a few seconds in between to fix his embellished details. He was speaking to Tetsurou at such a volume that you had to search for your earbuds to drown his loud mouth out.
DINGDINGDINGDINGDING--
Maybe all of his stupid friends would ring the bell the same way. Thankfully, he was right there to open it and tell the next two groups to stop.
Soon, your living room was filled with almost all of Nekoma (only a few of which you could recognize from the handful of his games you had attended), and some guys you had never seen before.
It got so loud, so fast.
Your stubborn streak wasn't serving you well. Despite the separation you got from the one wall between you and the entryway, all the sound still poured into the kitchen through the open layout. Your technology wouldn't hold up to how loud a bunch of high school guys could get.
Tetsurou slinked into the kitchen, slow, quiet despite you both staring at each other.
He slid next to you, elbow scrunching one of your precious papers. He had that shitty, low-lidded smirk on his face.
Another boisterous laugh sounded through from the other room and your wince was only proof of your predicament. It sounded like they were fighting, or wrestling, or something that needed to be done outside.
He whispered, "Are you ready to give up?"
"Once you drop dead," You whispered back, clicking your pen ready.
His nostrils flared at your resilience. "You aren't even studying--,"
"Sooo! Where's all that liquor you promised, Kuroo?"
You watched your brother freeze up at the new voice coming into the kitchen. It was genuine distress that flashed across his face for half a second - you wouldn't have had the chance to see it, if he wasn't so up in your business. You turned just in time to watch a guy who didn't go to your school strut in.
"Woah!" He looked straight past your brother, right to you, "Who's thiiis?"
Tetsurou put his hand on your shoulder, something he never did, so you brushed it off as he started, "This is my--,"
"Heyy, Pretty," Bokuto sang just to you, big eyes trailing up, down, and back again, blatantly ignoring his friend.
You laughed at the interaction between them and his nickname for you. He was super hot. It left your brother impatient.
He closed the distance to shake your hand, unable to keep his eyes on just your face.
"This is my little sister," Tetsurou asserted, louder, this time.
The palm on the guy was so huge that you couldn't grip it. His hand could've easily crushed yours but he chose to shake it gently, then held it with both hands when he closed more distance.
"Hmm," He chuckled, "Hey, little sister. My name's Bokuto, but you can call me Ace."
You told him your name in an enamored giggle- biting your lip when he cupped his ear to hear it again, so you repeated it, surely less intelligible.
"(Y/n)?" He asked, jovial, like he was trying to make you keep laughing. He succeeded, "That's nice, but I like Pretty better."
Tetsurou moved himself between you, not a big enough presence to make Bokuto stop touching you or talking in the slightest.
"It suits you, yeah?"
Your brother cleared his throat so loud that it sounded cartoonish. Your fingers slipped from his hand, despite his attempts to keep them all to himself, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking down and away. His anger was tangible.
Tetsurou stepped in front of you and faced him. They went just outside of the open doorway. It left you to clean up your papers, laptop, pens, highlighters, books. He muttered many things, but you only caught:
"You serious?" Met with: "Relax, dude!"
"Do I need to worry about you the whole fucking weekend, bro?" Answered with: "Obviously not!"
"This is a line. Don't- don't cross it." Satisfied with: "Have some faith in me, bud, come on."
His friend drama wasn't your problem, but it was oh-so-entertaining to listen to. You fixed up your belongings very slowly so that when they came back, you didn't look so suspicious.
To your dismay, only Tetsurou came back in. He squinted at your gathered things.
"Good. Go upstairs," He said, so simple, with half of his attention on you, half on his friends horsing around in the living room, as if it was normal- as if you had ever tolerated him speaking to you like that before.
You threw a pen at his face, laughing loud with pure delight when it left a streak on his jaw. You had incidentally left it open.
There were few times you had seen him so indelibly angry.
The speed at which he nabbed the pen off of the the floor and hurled it back at you was worthy of a world-record. You only managed to dodge it because you knew what he was going to do before he did.
It shattered on the cupboard, ink exploding all over the floor, staining the counter.
There was almost no time to make a smartass comment, because as soon as you conjured one and inhaled to say it, something crashed in the living room. It sounded eerily mother's-favorite-vase-like.
He was teeming with contempt.
You didn't say anything back when he held his hand up, silently forbidding you from following him to investigate the now-silent room.
It was all his fault, when you thought about it. He dug his grave, since he decided on his own to have all of his rowdy friends over. It wasn't on you that he broke a pen, his friends broke a vase, and his best friend was so sweet to you in the first thirty minutes of the weekend starting.
While you could have left the mess for him to clean up, you didn't want to go upstairs just yet. Once you did, you'd have to justify coming back down. So, you pulled out some cleaning supplies under the sink and started picking up the little sharp plastic pieces of pen.
"Woah, what happened in here?"
You perked right up at the voice, somehow embarrassed to be found like this.
Bokuto threw a look over his shoulder before he fully came in. When he decided to enter, a big smile took up his whole face, making all his handsome features super friendly-looking.
He wasted no time sliding over the tile to squat next to you and inspect the damage.
"Tetsurou threw a pen," You said, quiet, avoiding his attentive stare.
He shook his head, disapproving, and started collecting the pieces with you. He gladly took your hand in his so he could place them in your palm. It was so unnecessary, but it made you giggle again.
"You like studying?" His head dipped to see more of your face, eyes bouncing around to take in all of your features.
It made you shy away and stand to throw the pieces out. But he followed just to watch you, amused at your mannerisms.
"Not really-," You squeezed past him, beginning to spray at and wipe off the ink, sparing a glance to your stuff on the counter, "I mean, there is something nice about it- but,"
Bokuto was too entranced by your lips to properly listen to you ramble. He glanced up to your eyes only on occasion, otherwise sporting an intense stare at your cute mouth, or the way you used your already busy hands when you spoke.
Soon you had told him too much, and there was no ink to clean up anymore, so you returned to sit on the stool next to the counter.
"I didn't know Kuroo had a sister," He sighed.
He chose not to sit, but to stand over you, just so that you had no option but to look up at him.
"Especially not one so cute," His knuckle grazed your warm cheek as you smiled at the floor, "God, you really are such a cutie, huh? You got a boyfriend?"
Your body braced at his touch. He took a step forward, one hand on the counter behind you.
"Mm-mm," You tried to meet his eyes, but it was impossible.
Staring at his body wasn't a bad deal, though. His shirt fit him nice and tight at the shoulders, then loosened, a little flowy at his waist thanks to his impressive build.
"That's good," His fingers dipped to your chin, gently bringing your face to look at him.
This you could only stand for a moment or two. You pushed his forearm down so he would stop touching your face, making you look this way and that.
He sighed, keeping his arm near you in case you wanted to keep your hands on him, but once he understood it wouldn't happen, he put it on the other side of you.
"I've- never had a boyfriend," You admitted, breathless at the pressure of such proximity.
It was mostly as a way to excuse your bashfulness, in partial hopes that he didn't take your hesitation as a sign of rejection.
You loved the attention. It was difficult to keep up with, but it didn't mean that you didn't want it.
His knuckles were white against the counter behind your back. His breath shallowed out. He had a hard time catching it, left recovering from the carnal reaction to such a perfect opportunity sitting before him.
All he heard was the chance to be unrivaled- a white knight of the bedroom, in a sense. To drag out that cute, adoring look on your face for as long as it took to break you in. His jaw tensed, his friendly smile faltering at the thought of what he could show you, teach you, be the very first to do to you.
He grinned, "No wonder he wants to keep you locked up, then."
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♕VIP♕
@integers @yuchacco
my masterlist. my request box.
reply to be added for future parts!
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konigsblog · 6 months ago
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loser!Konig needs to suck on a breast while getting a handjob I think. a grown man reduced to a begging mess. Tsk tsk…all that comforts him is a titty in his mouth.
Loser!König has a mommy kink, and that is nothing but the truth. It's that simple - he's just a big, nerdy, and freakish mess waiting to be held and cradled, to be accepted and loved unconditionally, no matter how creepy or pathetic he is.
And you, you accept König, through his perversity and depravity. You allow König to sink into the comfort of your chest while you wrap your arms around him, enveloping him in a hug while he grits his teeth and rants about everything in his life
His large and calloused hands play with and massage your soft, round breasts as a 'coping mechanism', he claims. If König is being honest, he's taking advantage of you and your kindness, how you're always there to hold him. He's looking to be overly touchy with his beloved engel, to admire your breasts and rut against your thigh like a perverted loser. König loves when you run your hands through his ginger locks of hair and play with his thick, veiny cock ‘til it hardens in your sweet, lustful touch.
“Bitte, Häsechen- Mehr...” (Please, bunny- More...) König manages to choke out through his laborious breathing, his thick fingers already tugging at your shirt and pulling your hand to his twitching dick.
Perhaps others would be creeped out, but you? You wouldn't dare think about turning down König, after all, it would worsen his frustration. You allow him to roll his wet tongue over your nipple while you stroke him gently and messily, your thumb playing with his tip and precum, smearing it down his shaft until his length is glistening with his glossy fluids.
Even better if you're lactating - although, he'll get addicted pretty easily. Good luck keeping that pervert away from you, Maus...
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jupiterpilgrim · 3 months ago
Text
SEX CAGE - A Certain Kind of Freedom
Kwon Eunbi x male reader
word count: 14K
part 1
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Eunbi and Somi are lounging on the couch, comfortably wrapped in the delicious art of gossip — the kind of conversation that could fuel hours of free entertainment, without the need for Netflix or Wi-Fi. Eunbi grabs another cookie, chewing slowly as Somi talks with the passion of someone who just watched the latest episode of a dramatic reality show.
"You heard the latest about Mina, right?" Somi starts, her voice full of that conspiratorial tone only someone who truly revels in other people's misfortunes can master.
Eunbi raises an eyebrow, with the moderate interest of someone who knows this is going to be good. "Oh, Mina, the embodiment of perfection... at least according to herself."
Somi nearly chokes with laughter. "Yes! And can you believe her boyfriend dumped her to date her younger sister?!" She drops the news as if she’s revealing the biggest scandal of the week, which, for their circle, might just be.
Eunbi stifles a laugh, which turns into a rather sadistic smile. "Of course, because obviously the only way to escape that arrogance was... to dive headfirst into an even bigger mess. Congrats to him for making the dumbest choice available."
Somi slaps Eunbi’s arm, laughing. "The worst part is, apparently the sister thought it was cute that he tattooed her name on his arm. Cheap tattoo, mind you. And, of course, she fell for him right then and there. Because nothing says 'I love you' like a bad tattoo."
Eunbi grimaces, shaking her head. "A name tattoo is like signing a contract with disaster. But hey, everyone does what they can with the little brain they have, right?"
They burst into laughter again, the kind of shared humor only longtime friends can appreciate — especially when they’re mocking someone they never really liked. The sound echoes through the apartment, and for a moment, it’s almost like they’re back in the days when their biggest worry was deciding which nail polish to wear that week.
Somi finally catches her breath and looks at Eunbi with a softer expression. “But seriously... you’re glowing, you know? You’ve got such amazing energy! Way different from the last time we talked, when you were, like, at rock bottom with the whole unemployment thing.”
Eunbi feels her stomach churn slightly. Ah, rock bottom. What dark times those were (three months ago). Until she turned things around, of course, but by means Somi can’t — and shouldn’t — know about. Eunbi plays with her hair, as if she can brush away the discomfort with the gesture. “Ah, you know... things have gotten better. Lucky for me, my roommate is super smart.”
Somi narrows her eyes, curious. “Smart how? Did he help you get a new job or something?”
Eunbi tries not to sweat. She can’t exactly admit that her current 'job' involves cameras, masks, and an eager audience hungry for more content. So, the lie flows, smooth as oil. “Oh, you know, he’s into all that nerdy stuff. Investments, bitcoins, NFTs... those complicated things only weirdos understand. He’s been covering the bills for now.”
Somi looks at Eunbi, genuinely impressed. “Wow, you really lucked out! A rich nerdy roommate. Sounds like one of those cliché romances.”
Eunbi lets out a nervous smile. “Yeah, it was a good roll of the dice.” Before Somi can start connecting dots or asking more complicated questions, Eunbi quickly decides to steer the conversation in a different direction. “But enough about that. Now that I have more time, I’m thinking of going back to the gym. What do you think about us going together? Like, a triumphant return to the fitness life.”
Somi almost spills her tea in excitement. “You? The gym? I’m shocked!! But seriously, that’s awesome! What gave you the sudden motivation?”
Eunbi smiles, satisfied to have shifted the topic to safer ground. “Oh, you know... health, staying in shape, that kind of thing. And now that I’ve got more free time, I’ve got no excuses, right?”
Of course, the real reason for the new gym routine was less noble and more... vain. Keeping that ‘porn goddess body’ requires work, after all. The cameras don’t lie, but they definitely have their preferences. And Eunbi was determined to live up to those expectations — hers, the fans’, and anyone else willing to pay to watch.
Somi gets excited about the idea, clapping her hands animatedly. “I LOVE this! Finally, a gym buddy! We can even take those post-workout selfies, you know? Like, ‘no pain, no gain.’ It’s going to be great!”
Eunbi laughs, already picturing herself doing squats while Somi films her for Instagram. “It’ll be fun. My goal will be to get abs like yours.”
The conversation flows smoothly, with occasional laughs and sharp gossip, until the apartment door opens and you walk in, as usual, a bit clumsy, unaware that you’re interrupting the gathering. Somi turns her head to look at you, surprised but with her usual friendly, easy smile.
“Hey! Long time no see!” She gets up to greet you while you try to force a tired smile and give her a quick hug. Not that you don’t like Somi; she’s great, really, but she always brings this certain energy that leaves you feeling slightly... drained. The kind of person who could empty the battery of an entire room just by showing up.
“How’s it going?” you ask, trying to be polite as you prepare to escape to your room.
Somi responds with the same enthusiasm as always. “Everything’s great! And you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“Ah, I’m good too. Make yourselves at home, don’t mind me, I’m just heading to my cave,” you say, and with that, you finally make your way to your room.
Barely closing the door, Somi, who never misses an opportunity, turns to Eunbi with a curious gleam in her eye.
“So, has he been bringing a lot of girls around here?”
Eunbi lets out a theatrical sigh, as if the question were more ridiculous than it actually was. “Thank God, no. He’s always been pretty chill, actually. More of a stay-at-home, play-video-games type than the ‘hook up with everyone’ kind.”
Somi crosses her arms, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Really? That’s funny. He’s cute. And I always thought cute guys were taken. What a waste.”
Eunbi tries to keep her composure, but something about Somi finding you cute bothers her. Not that she’s jealous. Obviously not! But hearing Somi compliment you... well, let’s just say it’s irritating. “Yeah, he’s cute. But anyway, back to the topic... the gym, right? I think I’ll start tomorrow.”
“Great! The gym I go to is amazing, you’ll love it.”
Eunbi smiles, satisfied with the sudden shift in conversation, and decides to change the course even further.
"By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask you something, Somi... have you ever been with a girl?"
Somi almost breaks the cookie she was about to eat. She blinks, processing the question. “Uh... like, kissed?”
Eunbi shrugs. “Kissed, hooked up, anything. Has it ever happened?”
Somi, still a bit taken aback, furrows her brow. “Ah, kissing, sure. Everyone’s kissed a friend after a few drinks, right? It’s like a friendship ritual.”
Eunbi lets out a little laugh. “So, just a kiss then? Nothing more?”
Now, Somi’s completely intrigued. She places her teacup carefully on the coffee table, as if she’s about to disarm a bomb. “Well... I’ve never slept with a girl, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Eunbi continues to probe. “And... would you try it?”
She pauses, looking at Eunbi more intently now, as if trying to catch the hidden subtext in the question. Then, connecting some dots, maybe a bit hastily, she smiles slightly. “Wait... are you suggesting that—”
But before Somi can finish her sentence, Eunbi waves her hand, as if shooing away a bunch of unwanted thoughts. “No, no! Nothing like that. I’m not suggesting anything. I was just curious.”
Somi laughs, but there’s a faint thread of tension in the air now, something light, something that wasn’t there before. “Oh, okay. Because, you know, I wouldn’t judge if you were thinking about it. I mean, you’re gorgeous, I’m gorgeous... It wouldn’t exactly be a tragedy.”
Eunbi gives a short, controlled laugh, like someone who needs to keep the train on the tracks. “I know, but that’s not it. I was just asking.”
Somi relaxes, but the mischievous look doesn’t fade. “Ah, got it. Just checking if the hot friend’s into girl-on-girl stuff. Sure, makes sense. Now tell me, what about you? Ever been with a girl?”
“Well... like you, I’ve kissed some friends a few times, you know, those party moments when everyone’s drunk and hyped. But I never... went beyond that, you know?”
Somi puts on a fake dramatic act, clutching her chest like she's deeply offended. "What? You've kissed other friends but never me? And here I thought our friendship was special!"
Eunbi, with the calm of someone who always has an answer ready, shrugs. "Well, we could change that right now, if you want."
Somi raises an eyebrow, surprised, but a smile begins to form on her lips. "Are you serious?"
Eunbi simply nods. "Why not? Friends do these things, right?"
If this were a book, this would be the moment when the reader holds their breath, eagerly anticipating what's next.
Then, without much fuss, Somi gives a mischievous smile, and they both lean forward until their lips touch in a quick, simple kiss. No drama, no complications. Just a brief moment, but with an underlying tension neither of them will admit to.
When they pull away, Eunbi smiles like she just checked off something from her to-do list.
"There. Now you're part of the exclusive group of friends I've kissed."
Somi laughs, raising her cup of tea. "Wow, what an honor. Let's toast to that."
Eunbi raises hers too, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "To open friendships."
They clink their cups, the sound echoing through the room, and the atmosphere relaxes again, as if nothing unusual just happened.
[12:03 AM]
Yujin: Heyyyy Rubydden! 🖤✨ Saw your sextape, girl, you SLAYED! Congrats!
[12:07 AM]
Rubydden: Omg, thanksss! I was so nervous, you have no idea 😳
[12:08 AM]
Yujin: Nervous? Pff, no way. You looked super natural. You’ve got that je ne sais quoi. Like... I dunno, a mix of dominatrix and Instagram fairy, you know?
[12:09 AM]
Rubydden: 😂😂 What a description! Now I gotta add that to my bio. But seriously, I loved what you do too. I watched some of your vids and I was like... wow ❤️🔥
[12:11 AM]
Yujin: Some? Haha, liar, bet you binged them all 😏
[12:15 AM]
Rubydden: Well... maybe five or six 😅
---
[10:35 AM]
Yujin: Look, I'm gonna be blunt... I got off to your titjob. That was AVN Awards level 🥵💦
[10:36 AM]
Rubydden: 😳 Omg! Wasn’t expecting that. Now I’m blushing
[10:37 AM]
Yujin: You're a goddess, Rubydden. That close-up on your boobs... girl, perfection!!
[10:38 AM]
Rubydden: Haha, I thought the same about you when I saw that video of you making yourself squirt... hard to forget
[10:39 AM]
Yujin: Haha perfect! But seriously, that titjob you did... I had to grab a vibrator because it was sooo hot 🔥
[10:40 AM]
Rubydden: OMG, really?! I'm feeling flattered now 🙈
[10:41 AM]
Yujin: Of course!! I’m not gonna lie, you and your guy have crazy chemistry. Ever tried a threesome?
[10:42 AM]
Rubydden: Never tried, actually. But I've always been curious... 🤔 Why, got something in mind?
[10:44 AM]
Yujin: Girl, if you haven't tried it, you're missing out, seriously. I've done it a few times and, for real, it’s amazing. Now, imagine this: me, you, and your guy in a video. It'd break the internet!!
[10:46 AM]
Rubydden: Wow... That definitely sounds like something to think about. I guess I'd have to talk to him first, right?
[10:47 AM]
Yujin: For sure, for sure! But think about it seriously, okay? We could make something super sensual, something that would drive the audience wild. Plus, it’d be a lot of fun 😉
[10:49 AM]
Rubydden: Haha, gosh, I'm nervous just thinking about it. But I won’t lie... the idea is tempting
[10:50 AM]
Yujin: Trust me, girl. It’s gonna be an experience you won’t forget. And, obviously, who could forget you after that?
You’re sitting in Eunbi’s room, her laptop open on the desk in front of you, your eyes skimming over the messages again and again. That dialogue on the screen doesn’t just surprise you, it throws you into a world you didn’t even know existed a few months ago.
Yujin?
Collab?
A threesome?
Eunbi, standing beside you, looks at you like she’s already made up her mind. To her, this is just another chance to go viral again. "So?" she says, tapping your shoulder lightly, a carefree smile on her face. "What do you think?"
You swallow hard, the words getting stuck in your throat. "I... I don’t know what to say."
She frowns a little, but still in a playful way, like she’s hearing someone complain about being hot in the summer. "Oh, you never know what to say. Relax. It’s not that complicated." And then, with a twinkle in her eye: "Yujin's hot, right? And she's got millions of followers. If we do this, it’s gonna be huge. Like, huge."
"It’s not that," you mumble, trying to form something coherent, but all logic seems to slip away from you like sand through your fingers. "I mean, it’s just... all of this... it’s so new."
She lets out a soft laugh, like she was expecting exactly that. "Of course it’s new. I still remember us sitting on the couch freaking out, thinking we’d get evicted from our apartment. Everything’s happening so fast, but look where we are now!" She picks up her phone, scrolling through Yujin’s photo gallery, clearly much more comfortable with the idea than you are.
"But I don’t even... know if I want to do this," you admit, trying to understand why your voice sounds so small in this conversation when you should be shouting HEY, I LOVE YOU, CAN WE TALK ABOUT US?!
"It’s okay to not want to... right now," she replies, still half-distracted as she shows you another picture of Yujin, this one even more provocative. "But seriously, look at this. Us and her? It’s gonna break the internet. And you’d be the luckiest guy in the world." She says it like she’s pitching the latest smartphone, full of perks and no downsides.
"I’m not sure ‘lucky’ is the word I’d use," you laugh awkwardly. How do you explain that, in your head, luck would be getting to take her out to dinner, with no cameras or masks in the way?
She frowns, clearly not understanding why you’re not jumping at the idea. "Okay, then what’s the problem?"
Inside, the knot of emotions keeps growing. You’re still trying to process the fact that you’re falling for your best friend. The girl you’ve always shared everything with, who stood by your side through the tough early days of adulthood. You two share something special... but she doesn’t seem to see it the same way. She’s caught up in the work, the followers, the rising fame.
And you?
You’re caught up in the feeling of falling in love with someone who might only see you as a tool for her career.
You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and all you can manage is a frustrated sigh.
"I’ll... think about it, okay?"
She gives you a quick hug, like you’ve just agreed to go to her Barbie-themed party. "Relax, it’s gonna be amazing, you’ll see. We’re doing so well! Maybe, when things calm down, we can even take a trip, just the two of us. What do you think?"
You allow yourself a small smile.
A trip, just the two of you?
That sounds almost... romantic.
"Yeah... that sounds nice."
"Yes! I was thinking maybe the Swiss Alps, how about that? Us in a cozy little cabin, snow falling outside, a fireplace burning... perfect, right?" She looks at you, her eyes shining with the idea. For a brief moment, you imagine the two of you together, far away from everything, just enjoying each other’s company. Damn, that would be perfect.
But, of course, Eunbi continues: "And we could shoot a video there! Imagine, us having sex in front of the fireplace, with the snow falling outside... it’d go viral."
You roll your eyes and take a deep breath. Of course.
Because in the end, that’s what it all boils down to. The romance fades faster than your desire to keep this conversation going.
You're lying on the couch, engrossed in your book, when you hear the apartment door open. Eunbi had gone out to pick up a package, and you were already used to her dramatic entrances. But the excitement with which she bursts through the door this time makes you suspicious of what on earth is in that box. It could contain anything from a toaster to a new vibrator powerful enough to emit sound waves detectable by a hydrophone at the bottom of the ocean.
“So, what’d you get this time?” you ask without looking up from your book.
“Oh, you'll find out soon enough,” she replies in a voice full of secrets.
You raise an eyebrow but go back to your book. “Right. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t explode.”
She disappears into the bedroom, and for a second, everything returns to normal. You almost convince yourself it’s nothing to worry about… until hours later, when another door opens again, this time with the subtlety of a hurricane. And who enters the room is… well, Eunbi, but a version of her that looks like she just walked out of a weird fanfic written by someone with way too much time on their hands.
She’s wearing a schoolgirl skirt that honestly makes you question the sanity of fashion designers and a baby tee she probably last wore many years ago.
You look at her, half incredulous, half amused, and can’t help but laugh. “Okay, what the hell is that?”
Eunbi spins around like a runway model, making the skirt dangerously twirl. “My new costume! For the next video, obviously.”
You tilt your head, a bit cynical. “What video?”
“I mean, our video,” she corrects. “We’re gonna do a roleplay. I’m the younger sister, and you’re the older brother.”
What?
You frown.
“Wait, what?”
But she moves closer, sitting beside you, her hand strategically landing on your thigh. And it’s that kind of hand slide that makes your neurons scream to ignore it, but of course, your body had already betrayed you the second she walked into the room in that… outfit. Now you start to understand that the mysterious box might have had something to do with this transformation.
“I’m going to be your stepsister,” she begins, while her fingers trace slow circles on your leg, “and our parents aren’t home... and I want to show you something. Something I just discovered, you know, like… sex.”
“Oh, sure. Sex,” you say, as if it’s the most revolutionary concept you’ve ever heard. “Because that’s what every little sister does, right?”
She either ignores the sarcasm or just doesn’t care. “Exactly! Oh, and of course, it won't be anything too scripted, we'll just feel the vibe and improvise. It’s going to be our best video yet. It’ll have that… forbidden touch, you know?”
You lean back on the bed, trying to figure out a way out of this. “So… like… can I finish my book first?”
Her eyes gleam with pure determination as she leans in closer, her hand now dangerously high on your thigh. “You can finish later. This will be quick.”
You had spent the last few days deciding that, no, this was too much, that you weren’t going to have sex with Eunbi just to create content anymore. Boundaries, you told yourself. Self-respect. You were more than that, right? You were going to set limits, be firm...
But now, with her hand so close to something that does not respect any rational decision, those words start to feel distant.
Then she delivers the final blow, the argument that should be illegal in any discussion. “And, look, it’ll be my first anal. You’ll get to fuck my ass. And, to make it better, I’ll let you come inside.”
Your synapses short-circuit. All those mature reflections about feelings and dignity… vanish. The decision you had sworn to keep firm just... dies. Just like that.
Her hand is already on your cock, and of course, it’s already rock-hard. Not that you have much of a choice at this point. Your body had already made the decision for you.
“It’ll be fun,” she says with a slight tease, her fingers now playing with your erection. “And I promise I’ll make you feel... very good.”
You try, by some miracle, to keep your composure. “Okay, but... shouldn’t we have, like, talked about this first?”
She looks at you with an expression that clearly says: Are we really having this conversation right now? “The only thing we need to talk about is how much you want to fuck my ass.”
You let out a sigh—whether of surrender, desire, or just because you’re an idiot, you’re not sure.
But deep down, you knew you were defeated the moment she walked into the room wearing that damned skirt.
Of all the absurd decisions you’ve made, this is probably the most obvious one. With your mind utterly overwhelmed by a mix of desire and confusion, you heard yourself saying yes before you had time to process anything more rational—like, for instance, no.
Eunbi smiles as if she's about to invite you to play house, but a version that would never be allowed on any playground. She bounces off the mattress, as if the thrill of seeing you sink into this pit of poor decisions is a small personal victory, and rushes to the bedroom. You hear the sound of boxes being rummaged through. She comes back with a mask and the camera. Your camera, which, let’s be honest, she practically stole from you a long time ago.
"Here," she says, handing you the equipment with a sparkle in her eyes. "Now I’m going to redo the entrance," she continues, already in full actress mode, putting the mask on, "but this time, you’re going to be my older brother, and I’ll be your... well, you already know."
You sigh, half-amused, half-resigned, but lie down on the bed as instructed, slightly frustrated to give up something important to do... this—and yes, you did consider finishing that book important—but, if we're being honest, resisting Eunbi was like trying to hold water in your hands.
You turn on the TV, something generic is on, maybe a show about giant cakes, which, of course, doesn’t match what’s about to happen. You press the record button on the camera.
And this is how it begins:
The bedroom door opens, and there she is, the personification of every possible cliché of fantasies that shouldn’t exist. A schoolgirl skirt that’s way too short, a baby tee that only someone with questionable taste would consider appropriate for anyone past puberty, and a walk that was almost a caricature. But the strangest thing was how much she had changed. It wasn’t just the outfit. It was everything: the posture, the gestures, even the expression on her face. When she approaches and says, “Hey, big brother,” the voice is so sweet it’s almost sickening.
Pure poisoned sugar.
You glance at her as she sits at the edge of the bed, the camera strategically positioned to film from the neck down, focusing on that damned tight baby tee that accentuates her breasts. “Hey,” you reply, casually.
“Parents are gone,” she announces, sitting beside you on the bed. You mutter something vague in response, more focused on surviving the scene than keeping up the act.
“Remember what dad said before he left?” she asks, with that voice that sounds like it’s meant to sell children’s toys or, in this case, sell the idea of something entirely different.
You nod absentmindedly. “Sure, take care of the house. And you.”
She smiles. But it’s not an innocent smile.
No, definitely not.
"Exactly. And I was thinking… shouldn’t you, like, take care of me now?"
“Hmm, take care of you... how?”
She smiles again, and the insinuation in her voice is so heavy it could sink a ship. "I discovered something. Something people do to feel good. And I think we should try it."
You try to fake indifference, which, of course, doesn’t help at all. "Oh yeah? What’s that?"
She leans in a little more, almost whispering. "The man puts the, um, what’s it called? Penis! That’s it! The man puts the penis into... the vagina... I think that’s it. He puts the penis in the woman’s vagina. That makes them feel good." She pauses, watching your reaction. “I want to try that with you.”
You almost choke on your own saliva.
"What? Who told you that?"
She shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. "Saw it on the internet."
Ah, of course. The internet. The vast well of wisdom and depravity.
Before you could come up with a reasonable excuse to cut this strange performance—something like ‘I can’t do this, sorry’ or ‘please, I just want to finish my book’—her hand was already on your cock. And, to be fair, that’s exactly what your brain didn’t need at that moment.
“Hey, what are you doing now?” you ask, more because you felt you should say something than because you really wanted an answer.
“Let me see your dick, brother,” she said, as if asking to see the TV remote. “Please, please, please!”
"I can't show you that," you retorted, in vain.
She frowned, but in a mischievous way. “I’ll show you what’s under my panties if you show me your dick.”
And, of course, her next move was to part her leg and lift her skirt, revealing the most enticing panties anyone could imagine—pink, with little animal prints, the full provocation package.
Your self-control—or what was left of it—flew out the window. She kept pressing on your dick over your pants, and finally, you gave in. "Alright, alright."
“Yaaay!!”
Eunbi took on the role with an almost disturbing enthusiasm. When you finally gave in and let her pull down your pants, her eyes lit up with exaggerated curiosity, as if she was dealing with something mysterious, incomprehensible, and worthy of scientific study. She looked at your cock like it was a particularly intriguing puzzle—one to be solved not with logic, but with her hands.
"Wow..." she murmured, her words filled with rehearsed admiration. Her fingertips brushed against the warm skin, exploring as if it was the first time she had ever touched a cock. She giggled and, with a touch that was almost innocent (if it weren’t so provocative), started handling it like she was investigating the workings of a new toy.
“It’s... so big!” The words came out with an overly exaggerated tone of surprise.
You tried to maintain some semblance of indifference, but it was like trying to keep a dam intact in the middle of a hurricane. "Careful there," you said, your voice already tense, feeling every light touch as if your cock was now in the hands of an inexperienced mechanic unsure of how to proceed.
She used both hands, holding it with a curiosity that seemed clumsy but intentionally sensual. “Why is it like this? Like, hard... but the skin’s soft at the same time?” The question was so simple, almost comical in its innocence, that you couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh.
“That’s how it works,” you muttered, the effort to keep your head in the game becoming harder as her hands slid more confidently. She squeezed a little more, testing different ways to hold it, as if searching for the perfect grip, her short nails brushing the sensitive skin in a way that made you squirm.
“And these balls down here?” She looked at them with genuine curiosity, playing with your balls, her gaze still so inquisitive that it almost made you laugh again. “What are they for? Do they get hard too?”
“No...” you took a deep breath, trying to explain without completely losing your composure. “I mean, they can get a little hard when they’re full... They’re… sensitive , just... don’t mess with them too much.”
She laughed, clearly amused by the reaction she was provoking. Her touch grew bolder as she became more familiar with what she was doing, running her hands along the entire length, holding your balls with a mix of care and silly curiosity, like she was weighing something valuable. “Oh, so the balls are sensitive...” she teased, laughing mischievously. "I’ll be careful."
She wasn’t, of course. Her touch, though clumsy for the character, was becoming more precise, more intentional. She knew exactly what she was doing, even if the role demanded a forced innocence.
"Can I... try something?" she asked, lying under your legs, her face so close to your dick that you could feel her warm breath on the tip.
"Try what?"
It was an unnecessary question because the answer was already written between the two of you in bold letters. She knew. You knew. Everyone—including the audience watching this later—knew.
“Can I... lick it?” she asked with the same sweetness as someone asking to taste a piece of candy. She tilted her head, her eyes big and bright behind the mask, and without waiting for an answer, lowered her head and gave a timid lick, almost as if she was testing the taste.
You took a deep breath, your muscles tensing involuntarily. "Go ahead..."
She started licking with small, experimental touches, giggling with each new move as if she was genuinely enjoying herself. "It tastes kind of... salty," she commented, like she was talking about a new gourmet ice cream. She laughed again, licking once more, this time with more intention, running her tongue from the base to the tip with an almost disturbing concentration. "Is that good for you?"
"Fuck yes," you responded, trying to control the moan already escaping your throat.
“Then I’ll keep going...” she murmured, smiling satisfied with herself, like a good sister just wanting to make her older brother feel good.
Her movements were a strange, seductive mix of rehearsed hesitation and almost genuine curiosity. The tip of her tongue traced small lines along your skin, up and down, almost like she was discovering a new flavor. She giggled between licks, which for some reason only made the situation hotter. With each touch, the heat in your body intensified.
“You really like this, huh?” she asked with a feigned innocence that you knew was part of the act, but it didn’t make the situation any less provocative. The way she spoke, as if asking an everyday question, contrasted deliciously with the explicit nature of what she was doing.
You let out a low moan, struggling to maintain some control over the situation. “It’s... incredible,” you replied, your voice already shaky.
She paused for a moment, her eyes shining with interest, as if analyzing the situation from a new angle. “So... if this makes you feel so good, what’s the best part?” The question came with that unsettling curiosity of wanting to learn more, wanting to be better at making her brother happy.
You try to stay focused, fighting the urge to just drop the camera and use both hands to make her gag on your dick. But no, she wanted it to be a game, she wanted it slow—you both had roles to play. "The tip," you said, vaguely pointing to the most sensitive part of your dick. “The tip is... where you should focus more.”
Eunbi raised an eyebrow, amusement clear on her face. "The tip?" She looked at your dick with the same exaggerated fascination, her lips moving slowly as she considered the new challenge. "Okay, big brother... If that’s what will make you feel better."
She leaned her head closer, her gaze fixed on the tip of your dick, like she was about to solve a Rubik’s cube. And then, with calculated slowness, she wrapped her lips around the head, giving a light suck, as if tasting something for the first time.
You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips. The touch of her soft lips, combined with the light pressure of the suction, was simply electrifying. And she seemed to love the reaction she provoked, laughing softly as she continued, her movements increasing in intensity.
“Like this, is it good?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled, as she kept the tip of your dick in her mouth. With each word, the vibration made you lose more and more control.
"Keep going... just like that... it's really good," you managed to say, the words escaping with difficulty. She gave a low, satisfied laugh before going back to what she was doing, now using her tongue to explore the tip with even more curiosity. She swirls her tongue in slow, teasing circles, gently increasing the pressure before relaxing, repeating the motion as if she's experiencing something new each time.
"It's kind of weird," she says suddenly, pulling her mouth away for a second to catch her breath but keeping her hand firmly around your cock, playing with the base like it's something she just learned to use. "But in a good way, you know? Like... kind of funny."
"There's nothing funny about this," you say, almost laughing but trying to keep your composure. "Just... keep doing what you were doing."
She smiles, that mischievous smile that shows she knows exactly what she's doing. "Okay, okay... I'll be a good sister, I promise." And with that, she puts the tip of your cock back in her mouth, now with more determination, sucking with a steady rhythm that makes your whole body react.
You and the camera watch everything, your mind torn between the rising lust and the surrealness of the situation. The way she slips into the role, playing with the idea of being a little sister "discovering" something so dangerous and exciting, only heightens the effect. She sucks the tip with absurd concentration, as if each movement were a new step in a forbidden game.
She pulls the cock out of her mouth again, her hands still busy, and looks at you, eyes gleaming with excitement that comes more from the game than the act itself. "Do you want me to keep going like this? Or should I do something else? I... I can learn quickly, you know."
"So, remember the balls? You can suck them too. I’ll like that a lot."
"You said they’re sensitive, right?" Her voice has that exaggerated tone of curiosity, like she's playing a little sister who wants to learn everything, absolutely everything. "What do I do with these... little balls?"
You, already sunk into the role she’s forcing on you, struggle to keep your voice steady. "Yeah... yes. They’re... sensitive. You can... suck them too. But, carefully."
She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Suck? Like I did with your cock?"
You nod, the words almost slipping. "Yes. But... slower, okay?"
"Mmm, got it!" she murmurs in a devilishly sweet voice. "I'll take care of you, just like you take care of me."
She lowers her head further, moving slowly down to your balls, as if she’s deliberating her next move. She gives them another lick, experimental and almost casual, like she’s licking a popsicle in front of the TV on a Saturday afternoon, and not your body.
"Like this?" Her voice is loaded with fake innocence, but the mischievous smile on her lips leaves no doubt that Eunbi knows exactly what she’s doing. "Or should I be a bit... more careful?"
You swallow hard. "That’s it, just… a little slower..."
She giggles again, that light laugh that makes it seem like you’re really playing make-believe. But, obviously, what she’s doing is far from that. She tilts her head more and begins licking your balls slowly, this time without hesitation, but still with that touch of exaggerated curiosity.
"It's funny," she comments between licks. "I didn’t know they could get harder." With each word, she lets her tongue glide smoothly over the sensitive skin, teasing in a way that makes everything feel like one big game.
You can barely think of a coherent response. "Yeah... the more you play with the balls, the 'harder' they get," is all you can say, trying to maintain some control while her head moves between the base of your cock and your balls, like she’s deciding which part she likes best.
Then she looks up again, as if a brilliant idea just struck her. "What if I suck it all at once? Do you think I can fit it all in my mouth?"
"Yes... go ahead, try..."
And she does, enveloping your balls with her mouth slowly and carefully, almost with that rehearsed sweetness, like an obedient little sister.
"Am I doing well?" she asks in that sweet little voice, her words muffled as she continues playing with your balls, moving her head side to side, as if she’s, once again, testing the limits of what she can do.
You almost laugh, but it’s a forced laugh, the kind you make when you’ve been taken to a place where reason was lost long ago. "You’re such a good girl!"
She smiles, satisfied. "I want to be the best little sister in the world!"
"Okay, if you really want to be the best little sister in the world, then do as you promised and show me what’s under your panties, alright?" you ask, knowing it’s best to stop for now, or the video will end in just a blowjob.
She obediently stands up, unbuttoning her skirt with deliberate slowness, almost ceremoniously. You get rid of your pants and boxers for good and sit on the edge of the bed. She lets the fabric slide down her thighs to the floor, revealing pink panties. It doesn’t help that she seems genuinely excited about it, like she’s playing with something her parents didn’t allow.
"Do you like it?" she asks, turning slightly to show off the pink panties decorated with little animals and bows on the sides.
You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, which is a colossal challenge considering the scene. "It’s... yeah, it’s nice."
"Nice?" She pretends to be offended, crossing her arms over her chest. "These panties are cute. I chose them especially for my brother." She emphasizes the ‘brother’ with a tone that should be sweet but only manages to sound dangerously suggestive.
"Sure, sure," you reply, looking away for a second, as if that would help you escape the trap. "Cute."
With an even wider smile, she slowly lowers her panties, revealing her already wet pussy. The ‘little stepsister’ looks at you with a rehearsed expression of pure innocence. "Huh? Why... is it so wet?"
You take a deep breath, knowing that any answer to that question will only dig you deeper. But like any protagonist in a story who’s clearly made the worst decision, you answer: "It’s because... you like me. Your body reacts like that when you... really like someone."
She ponders for a second, as if she’s considering this revelation for the first time. "Ah... that makes sense. I do really like you, you know?"
"Yeah... I like you a lot too," you murmur, as if that would help keep things within some kind of boundary.
"So," she continues, her eyes fixed on yours, "what do we do now, brother? How are you going to take care of me?"
You try to keep your voice calm, even though you know it’s quickly becoming impossible. "Why don’t you start... touching your pussy? Slowly. Just to see how it feels."
She seems surprised, but excited by the suggestion. Slowly, her fingers begin to descend, gliding over her soft skin until they reach her wet pussy. And the moans start, first light, then becoming continuous, accompanied by a smile that drives you crazy.
"Like this?" she asks, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.
"Yes, exactly like that," you reply, your voice a little rougher than you’d like, slowly stroking your cock while you film and watch the scene.
She continues, her fingers still timid, almost hesitant, like she’s discovering a new toy and doesn’t know exactly how to use it. She bites her lower lip, clearly enjoying her own curiosity, but you notice that something... is missing.
"No, no... this way it won’t be as good," you say, trying to sound instructional, which is a colossal challenge given the situation. "Let me show you a better way."
She stops, her eyes blinking at you with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Show me? Like... you’re going to teach me, big brother?" She smiles like she’s learning to do homework, except the ‘lesson’ at hand is far from academic.
"Yes... that’s it, I’ll show you. Trust me. Lie down on my bed and open your legs."
You stand up as she does what you asked, her legs slowly spreading to give you full access. With a sigh, you slide your hand between her thighs, your fingers lightly brushing her warm, damp pussy.
She trembles slightly at the touch, letting out a soft moan. "What are you going to do...?"
"Just relax, okay? You'll feel much more pleasure that way," you respond, still in 'older brother instructing' mode, because somehow that twisted logic makes sense right now.
Your fingers find her clit, and you start making slow circles, pressing just the right way—the way you know will make her writhe with pleasure. And, as expected, her moans intensify, her hips moving involuntarily against your hand.
"Ah... this is... so much better," she whispers, her eyes half-closed, her voice now more drawn out, almost surprised at the intensity of what she's feeling. "This feels so good, you're making me feel so good!" She arches her back, getting more lost in the touch, her hands squeezing her breasts, still covered by the baby tee, her moans echoing through the room. "This... this is incredible," she breathes between sighs. "Do it again, brother. Do it like that."
You comply, your fingers now firmer, exploring the small spasms of her body, each touch precise to make her feel more, to make her moan louder. Her breathing becomes ragged, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, and for a moment, the absurd theatrics of the situation disappear, replaced by a raw, physical connection.
"You like that, don’t you?" you ask, knowing the answer is obvious.
"I love it... Mmm, I didn't know I could feel this way." she replies, her voice broken. "You're... you're the best brother I could ever have."
Your fingers move faster now, firm and precise, playing her body like an instrument, each stroke making her tremble. She's gasping, eyes closed, writhing beneath you, her hips rising and falling against your hand. It's a hypnotic sight—almost like watching a chaotic dance, where her body is the instrument, and you, the conductor.
"Ah... brother, I... I’m feeling something strange..." she murmurs, her voice hoarse, almost trembling.
You smile, keeping your tone calm, as if you've been through this before. "It's normal... just relax and let it happen. It'll feel good, trust me."
She lets out a long, nearly broken moan as her body begins to lose control, her muscles contracting involuntarily around your hand. The camera is focused on her movements, capturing every contortion, every muffled moan, as if it were the final piece of a banned masterpiece in several countries.
"Ah, ah... I can't... Oooh..." She begins to beg, her words dissolving into pure sound, as your fingers continue, relentless, pressing and circling, giving no reprieve.
"That's it, let it out... it'll feel good, just let it all out." You encourage her, your voice soft, almost paternal, a sharp irony considering the context.
And then, it happens. She arches sharply, her body trembling violently, and you feel her wet heat spill over your hand. She comes with a scream that echoes through the room, her moans transforming into a primal sound, pure instinct and release. You keep playing her, extending the moment until the last spasm fades.
The camera captures everything—the unbridled pleasure, the ecstasy etched into every curve of her body. Every tremor and sigh are recorded.
When she finally collapses on the bed, exhausted, her breathing uneven, you gently pull your fingers away, bringing your soaked hand up to the camera lens for a close-up.
"Good job, little sister," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice. She just giggles, exhausted but satisfied, her body still trembling with the last traces of pleasure.
"I knew I could trust you," she murmurs, eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her lips.
"But we're not done yet," you say. "I want you to get on all fours for me, I'll show you something.”
Eunbi eagerly complies, lying face down with that almost naive obedience, arching her back with the precision of someone who's done this before. And you, in the role of the responsible older brother, observe and film.
"Now open that ass," you say, giving her a light slap that makes her skin ripple, and without question, she pulls her small hands to spread her cheeks, revealing her tight little asshole and wet pussy, everything perfectly exposed.
You run your fingers over her pussy, wetting them carefully, like you're preparing for a sacred ritual. Then you slide the wet finger down to her tight little asshole. She shifts a bit but stays in position, letting out a low moan as you finally push the finger inside.
"This little ass is precious, you know?" you say, almost in a teacherly tone as your finger slowly explores. "No one else can play with it but me. Just me."
She moans again, a sound mixed with pleasure and a promise about to be made. "I know, brother. It’s yours... only yours."
Her voice sounds sweet, almost begging for more, and you increase the pressure with your finger, pushing a little deeper, testing how far you can go. She arches her back even more, as if trying to make your job easier, offering her body.
"Good to know you understand," you tease, and she murmurs something in agreement. "Because if anyone else tries, there’s going to be a problem, understood?"
She bites her lip, her fingers still holding her cheeks apart. "I promise, brother... it’s only yours."
You smile, satisfied with her promise. "That’s how I like it."
Eunbi remains there, face down, obedient, her hands gripping her cheeks firmly, opening herself to you as if this were the natural purpose of her existence. Her breathing is heavy but eager as your fingers explore, playing with the tight little asshole still learning what it means to belong to someone. You feel the heat of her skin, and the way she trembles with each of your movements makes it clear that despite everything, she's enjoying it.
"Good girl," you say in a tone of approval that sounds almost paternal, moving your finger with more determination now, circling slowly before pressing in again. She lets out a shaky sigh, biting her lip and closing her eyes as if trying to focus on anything other than the pleasurable discomfort you're causing.
"It... it hurts," she admits in a trembling voice, as if revealing a secret, but then immediately moans again, that strange mix of pain and desire. "But it feels good..." She arches her back a little more, as if to encourage you, even as her body struggles to adjust to the new sensation.
You chuckle, pleased with her progress. Then you wet your fingers more in her pussy.
"It’s going to hurt a bit at first," you admit, moving the wet finger more slowly now, just to test her limits. "But don’t worry. Soon enough your little ass will get used to it." The promise is made in a reassuring tone.
Eunbi lets out a louder moan as you penetrate a little deeper, her fingers gripping her cheeks tighter as if trying to steady herself. She moves, arching her back into an even more inviting angle, legs slightly apart. "You... you think?" Her voice is a mix of insecurity and excitement, almost as if she's asking for more.
"I know," you respond, soaking in the confidence of the role, moving your finger with more rhythm, teasing her. "You're a good girl, and good girls always learn fast."
She moans again, her face buried in the mattress, but her arched back continues offering everything you've asked for and more. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna be a good girl for you, brother. I promise..."
You pause for a moment, your fingers still wet from the recent exploration. Eunbi—or, for the purposes of this performance, your ‘stepsister’—breathes deeply, still arched, her body tense with anticipation. The atmosphere is thick, and for a brief second, you just stand there, silently absorbing every almost imperceptible tremor running down her spine. The camera, your silent partner, focuses on every nuance of her expression, every shiver.
“It’s time for you to find out what you’ve been wanting, princess,” you say.
“Please… put your cock in me.”
"Say please," you respond, your voice low, so heavy with desire you barely recognize it. "Be a good girl and ask politely."
Eunbi, ever the meticulous actress, turns her face toward you, her wide eyes behind the mask with an innocence that only exists in fiction—those big eyes, the kind that say ‘I’m pure, I swear,’ even when nothing happening in the room suggests anything remotely innocent. Her breathing is fast, like a theater student at the peak of their dramatic performance.
"Please..." Her voice is a fragile whisper, but sweet, carefully rehearsed to sound vulnerable. "Please, brother... I want you to put your thick cock inside my tight little pussy."
Ah, there it is. The final barrier collapsed with the weight of a house of cards pushed by a breeze. You can’t help but smile—not that the camera can catch it—as you adjust your position with the precision of a watchmaker fine-tuning a delicate gear. The heat emanating from her body is magical, and when you finally penetrate her, slowly, each inch is consumed by her pussy, which wraps around you with a softness that defies reality.
She lets out a moan—the kind of sound that floats between pleasure and surprise, as if she’s being taken into unknown territory while, at the same time, exactly where she wanted to be. "Like that... like that... please," she moans, her voice strained, fingers gripping the sheets as if she’s on the brink of an existential revelation and only the sheets can keep her from being pulled into the abyss.
You start to move, oscillating between slow and deliberate, savoring the moment like you’re tasting the finest wine in the world, while she whispers sweet words between moans.
“Yeah, good girl!” you say softly.
The pace increases, the sound of bodies colliding echoes through the room, and as Eunbi arches her back, moaning for more with an almost religious fervor, you feel like you’re in control of not just her, but the entire scene.
You begin to pick up the pace, your movements gaining a life of their own. Beneath you, Eunbi is moaning non-stop, each sound a bit louder, a bit more desperate. Then, with the precision of a medieval archer hitting the bullseye, your hand comes down fast and firm on her ass.
The slap echoes through the room like an unexpected sound. The impact is immediate: her skin turns a reddish hue, the contrast clear and satisfying against her pale skin. Eunbi lets out a moan that’s half pain, half pleasure—the kind of sound that makes you want to repeat the action just to hear it again.
"More," she moans, her eyes half-closed, her voice muffled by the sheets, as if talking to herself but at the same time asking directly for you. "Please, spank me more, brother!!”
Ah, how could you resist such a polite request? Your hand comes down again, harder this time, leaving another red mark, and her body writhes in pleasure. You begin to alternate between thrusts and slaps, creating a symphony of pleasure and impact that seems to defy the basic rules of decency.
"You like that, don't you?" you say, your voice thick with provocation, as your hand meets her ass again and again, each slap resonating like a gong in a distant temple—or, in this case, the perfect sound of approval for what you two are doing.
"Yes!" she moans, the words coming out in broken breaths, "please... don’t stop!" She raises her hips higher, almost begging for more, and you, always generous, don’t disappoint.
Another slap. Harder. Her body reacts instantly, and the moans turn into something almost primal, as if she’s surrendering completely to the sensation.
"You’re a good girl, baby," you say. "But good girls need to be reminded who’s in control."
She only moans in response, her breathing ragged, her body completely given over to the moment. And, of course, you're more than willing to keep claiming territory, with each slap and thrust taking both of you closer to an inevitable climax.
You stop for a moment, feeling the sweat drip down your forehead, looking at Eunbi and the red marks you left on her buttocks.
“Now, be a good girl and ride me,” you say. “You’re going to like this position, I promise.”
You pause the recording.
Eunbi, obedient and eager as always, pulls away from you, giving you room to lie down on the bed. And then, with a grace that would make any mythological goddess jealous, she positions herself over you. For a brief second, your eyes meet hers, and there’s that exchange of complicity. That look that says: ‘Yes, we know exactly what we’re doing.’
You resume recording.
She lowers herself onto your cock, with a slowness that’s almost torturous, but at the same time, delicious. With every inch she takes in, you feel her warmth enveloping you, the tightness that almost defies logic. She moans softly, adjusting her body, and starts to move. Slow at first, learning the right rhythm.
But, of course, that doesn’t last long.
Soon, she’s riding with more intensity, picking up the pace. Her breasts bounce under the tight baby tee, and then, with a swift movement, she pulls the fabric up, revealing her large breasts that now move freely to the rhythm of her ride.
You can’t resist – who could? – and zoom in on her breasts. Her moans, the bouncing breasts, the hips moving up and down with precision. The camera can barely keep up, but you’re not exactly thinking about perfect angles right now.
This is living art, and you’re documenting every second as best you can.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say, half to her, half to the video. “Keep going, my good girl.”
Eunbi bites her lip, increasing the pace even more, and the room is filled with sounds – the bed creaking, her moans getting louder, the slap of bodies meeting. Your fingers grip her waist, helping to guide her, but the truth is, she’s in control for now.
And honestly, you’re not complaining.
She tilts her head back, eyes closed, her whole body focused on the frenzied movement. “Do you like watching me like this?” she asks between moans, with that completely calculated innocence, knowing exactly the effect her words have.
“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice hoarse, as you keep filming, knowing this recording will be something people will want to watch – many times.
The way she moves, even as her body consumes you inch by inch, is a balance between the innocent and the forbidden, as if she’s trying to convince you that she really is a good girl, only with a very, very fertile imagination.
“Please, brother...” she murmurs, almost in a whisper, leaning forward. The words come out in a sweet tone, with a hint of hesitation, as if testing the limits of roleplay with each syllable. “Do you think I’m being a good girl... for you?”
You smile, unable to hold back the sadistic pleasure that surfaces with the question. Your hand moves up her thigh, squeezing firmly. “You’re doing very well, little sister,” you reply. “But good girls can do better. Come on, show me how much you want to be the best.”
She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness – part of the act, of course, but brilliantly performed. “I... I can do better,” she says, trying her best to sound shy, as if begging for your approval. “I promise I can be the best little sister for you. Just... let me show you.”
And then, she lifts herself again and starts moving with more intensity, speeding up as her hands rest on your abs for balance. Her moans grow louder, almost stuttered, but she keeps the sweetness in her voice. “This feels so good... do you like seeing me like this, brother?” She asks, as if genuinely concerned about your verdict.
You don’t answer immediately, just watching her with that calculated expression. “You haven’t convinced me yet,” you finally say, your words sharp. “Good girls need to try harder. If you want to be my favorite, you’re going to have to work for it.”
Her eyes widen in mock concern, her breathing coming in heavier pants as her effort increases. She leans forward, her hair falling around her face as she continues to ride you, her movements becoming more intense, and the steady pace she maintains pushes you over the edge. “Brother... I’m trying,” she says between moans, her voice tinged with a mixture of effort and supposed innocence, as if the simple act of continuing is proof of her dedication. “Are you... are you enjoying it? Am I being a good girl right now?”
Your smile widens, seeing how far she’s willing to go to keep the fantasy alive. “You’re almost there, baby,” you reply with a superior tone, enjoying the power of the moment. “But good girls don’t just try. They give it their all. Show me how much you want this.”
She lets out a small moan, her eyes filled with an intensity that seemed to be growing with each movement. “I… I can do more,” she murmurs, picking up speed, her thighs now pressed against your body, rising and falling at an almost frantic pace. Her breasts bounce with the force of her ride, and her lips tremble with the effort, but she keeps going, determined.
“That’s it,” you murmur, your eyes locked on hers as you watch the hypnotic sway of her exposed breasts. “Good girl. Keep it up. Do it right!"
She bites her lip hard, clearly struggling to please you, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly as she picks up the pace even more. “I… I’m doing this for you, brother,” she moans, her voice sweet and broken, feigning complete devotion. “I want you to love me. I want to be your favorite girl. Please… love me…”
You grip her waist, helping to guide her movements. Her body moves down harder, with more determination. “If you keep it up, I might just love you,” you tease, tightening your grip. “But only if you really try. Go on, faster. Show me how much you want to be my good girl.”
She obeys, her moans louder now, mixed with panting breaths. “I’ll be… I promise,” she barely manages to say between her rapid movements. “I’ll be your good girl. The best one ever. I swear!”
“Then make me cum,” you say, your voice low and controlled, but full of expectation. “Only good girls know how to do this. Will you make it, little sister? Will you show me that you deserve it?”
She responds with only a strangled moan: “I- I w-will!”
“Then turn over,” you demand, your voice low but full of command. She stops riding you slowly, a smile on her lips, as if she’s been waiting for this order all along. She carefully turns her body, now facing away from you, her ass sticking up in a way that leaves her completely exposed. “Now you’re going to let me play with your asshole.”
"Brother... you're going to take care of me, right? Mommy and daddy said you needed to take care of me."
"Of course I'll take care of you. But now you're going to let me play with your asshole." You take your cock in one hand, holding it tight like a guide. "Come on."
She hesitates for a second, biting her lip with a hint of insecurity—not of the Eunbi you know, but of the character she's playing. "B-But... what are you going to do there, brother? You shouldn't..."
"Trust me," you murmur, almost out of patience now. "You're going to like it, it's going to make you feel really, really good."
She lets out a small moan, leaning forward, and you start to press in slowly. Entry is difficult—the pink ring of muscle resists at first, tight and almost impenetrable, as if her body is trying to say no while her mind and desire say otherwise.
"It's too tight..." she murmurs, her voice full of feigned nervousness, part of the act. But at the same time, there's something real in that sound, the little tremor in her voice as she tries to adjust herself... It's Eunbi's first anal too, not just the character's. "Do you think it'll really fit, brother?"
"It will fit," you say, your voice low, controlled, with a promise of pleasure behind it. "Just relax. You trust your brother, don't you?"
She nods, inch by inch, you feel her body giving in. The initial resistance gives way to a delicious pressure when it finally goes in. She lets out a loud moan, surprised.
“Mmm, brother… this… this is so different.” Her voice sounds vulnerable, almost shy, as she begins to move slightly, trying to get used to the intrusion.
“You’re being a good girl,” you reply, controlling the pace, thrusting in and out slowly. “You’ll like it more as you keep going.” And with each movement, each slow thrust, she begins to loosen up, her moans getting louder, her body adjusting to the pleasure.
“Come on, brother… take care of me,” she whispers.
“You’re making me so proud, baby. Your ass is perfect.”
“Ooohh, brother…” She lets out a long sigh, trying to adjust, moving her hips slightly, exploring the new sensation. “Why does this… feel so wrong, yet so good?” Her voice is of calculated innocence that drives you wilder with each passing moment.
“It’s because… sometimes, the best things are the ones we shouldn’t do,” you reply, controlling your tone to keep your character, even though the pleasure is almost knocking you over. You push deeper, feeling her insane grip. “And you’ve always been a curious girl, right? Wanting to try everything…”
She lets out a little laugh, although the tension is still there, hidden beneath the surface. “I am curious, yes, brother… I want to learn everything from you.” Then, she starts moving again, slowly at first, moving up and down hesitantly. “Do you think… I’m a good girl for wanting this?”
You can’t keep calm any longer. Her words, that sweet tone mixed with boldness, are destroying you inside. “You’re the best girl, the hottest, the most obedient,” you reply, your voice husky with desire as you hold her hips tightly to help her keep the rhythm.
“So, I’m going to make my big brother happy,” she murmurs, and with that, she starts riding you harder, her movements more confident now, her hesitation disappearing with each passing second. Each time she goes down, you feel the crushing pressure and heat, a tightness that makes you see stars. Eunbi’s moans are getting louder and louder, and beyond the character, you know how much she’s enjoying this.
“That’s it, like that,” you encourage, your hands now squeezing her ass. “Keep going, baby… show your brother how much you want to make him happy.”
Eunbi arches her back, throwing her hips back with more desire, the sound of their skin slapping against each other echoing through the room. “I’m going to… I’m going to take care of you,” she moans, between giggles, clearly enjoying the role. “But you have to take care of me too, okay? Because I’m just your little stepsister… I can’t do everything on my own…”
Her answer is almost fatal to your sanity. You pull her hips harder, helping her to go all the way down, feeling the overwhelming pleasure consume you. “I’ll take care of you,” you promise, without even thinking about the words. “I’ll teach you everything.”
She speeds up her movements, and now the room is filled with the sounds of her body against yours, her moans getting louder, more desperate. “Brother…” she begins, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and excitement, “I think... I think I’m really enjoying this. You like being in my tight ass, don’t you?”
You almost laugh at her brazenness, but the pleasure is too much. “I love it,” you reply, feeling the urgency take over. “You’re being so good to me. Now, let me fill you with pleasure... until you can’t take it anymore.”
Eunbi continues riding, her movements now more desperate, her face clearly torn between keeping character and giving herself completely to the pleasure. “Aaaah, brother… You'll fill my ass with your cum, right? Because... you promised to take care of me.”
Her head tilts back a little, a mischievous smile lighting up her face, but her moans cut off any possible response. You’re close, so close that words no longer make sense, but the roleplay is still in the air, and you know Eunbi is going to push all the way in.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna make you cum so much, big brother. Because you’re the best brother in the world,” she moans, grinding harder, and you feel like you won’t last much longer.
“You’re going to make your brother so happy… now, get on all fours because your brother is close… I’m gonna fuck your ass until I cum.”
Eunbi lets out a short laugh, her breathing still ragged from the effort and pleasure. She slides out of you slowly, almost provocatively, and you can see how much her asshole has already opened up with your cock. When she finally stands up, she throws that playful look over her shoulder, biting her lip as if she knows exactly what she's doing.
“On all fours?” She asks, with false innocence, as she positions herself on the bed. “Do you want your sister to be like this, brother? Do you want to fill my tight asshole with your milk?”
The answer doesn't need to be verbalized — your body already speaks for you. She leans on the bed, sticking her ass up, her back arched perfectly, offering everything provocatively. The ridiculously short baby tee remains raised, her heavy breasts hanging from her body.
“You know how to obey, don't you? Good girl…”
Without further hesitation, you stand behind her, your hand running down her body, exploring the perfect curve of her hips and the pulsing heat of her skin. The camera is well positioned, capturing every angle of the final moment. Her pussy is wet, swollen with excitement, but it’s her asshole that you want now, and she knows it. Your firm hand positions itself on her ass cheeks, slowly spreading her, revealing the tight little hole that barely hides how much she enjoyed every second of it.
“Are you ready, little sister? Because now I’m going to put everything in you… and I won’t stop until I cum deep inside your ass.”
She looks back, smiling. “I trust you, brother. Do whatever you want with me.”
With that, you line up your hard cock against her narrow entrance and begin to thrust. It’s still tight, incredibly tight, and the initial resistance only makes the pleasure more intense. Eunbi lets out a muffled moan as the head of your cock finally enters, her body adjusting to the size with a mix of discomfort and pleasure.
“Ah... like that,” she moans. “My asshole is burning so much... but it’s so good.”
You push deeper, inch by inch, until you’re completely inside. The pressure is unbearable, the heat and firmness of Eunbi’s asshole squeezing you in an overwhelming way. With your hand firmly placed on her hip, you begin to push slowly, feeling her tight asshole slowly give way.
The camera focuses on this movement, of course, because, after all, the show is for the audience.
Eunbi lets out a moan, something between surprise and pleasure. “Mmm, you are so big, brother,” she murmurs, her voice cracking with the effort of keeping the role.
You go deeper, the camera recording every movement, every inch. “It's because good girls deserve big cocks,” you tease, thrusting harder now, each thrust eliciting a louder moan from her.
“I am,” she replies between gasps. “A good girl... just for you.”
The moans grow louder as you pick up the pace, fucking her ass with increasing force. The camera shakes a little in your hand, but it’s capturing everything, every detail of Eunbi’s masked expression as she grips the sheets, her fingers digging into the fabric.
As the pace intensifies, the tension in the room builds to a breaking point, and you feel the inevitable wave of pleasure about to spill over. Eunbi is panting, her moans turning into excited whispers. Your free hand grips her ass cheek tightly, keeping her open, and her tight asshole wraps around your cock like a hot trap. You know you’re close to the end, and the thought of it only increases the urgency.
"You... are going to take it all, aren't you?" The question comes out almost like a command, her voice hoarse with pleasure. The camera, forgotten for a second, shakes slightly in her hand, but it's still capturing everything.
"Yes, yes!!" she gasps, her eyes rolling back in their sockets, something the camera unfortunately doesn't capture. "I'm going to take it all! I want... I want you to fill my ass, please! ‘Cause I'm your good girl... your favorite stepsister."
Every word, spoken in that sweet, lustful voice, only makes you harder, closer to climax. You grip her hips and thrust hard, each thrust sinking deeper, every inch of your cock being devoured by that unbearable tightness.
"You like your brother's cock, don't you?" Her voice is deep now, full of the energy of someone who knows she's in control. "Tell me. Tell me what you want!"
“I... I love it!!,” she moans, her voice cracking with pleasure, as if she were about to come undone right there. “I want you to cum inside... please, make me yours, for real... Cum inside your sister!”
And that’s what pushes you over the edge.
With one last thrust, you sink your cock all the way in, feeling her body tremble with the impact. The heat begins to spread inside her, the cum spurting with an almost unbearable intensity, filling the tight little asshole of the “little stepsister” who is moaning in pleasure beneath you.
“Mmm... Fuck! Do you feel it, baby?” you tease, thrusting hard as the last hot spurt of cum floods her. “This is what you wanted, right? To be a good girl for your brother.”
She lets out a long moan, her shoulders shaking, her legs weak with pleasure. “Yes, baby… Mmm, I'm feeling all your cum deep inside me!”
You stay inside her for a few more seconds, feeling the heat of her body and the involuntary squeeze of her ass around your cock. Eunbi takes a deep breath, her moans now fading, but the satisfied smile still on her face.
"You made me feel so special," she murmurs, still in the role. "Now I'm your favorite little girl, right? Because I'm the only one who gets your cum."
You pant, lost in pleasure, your eyes closed as you answer: "It's always been you, baby... always you."
You're still breathing heavily, like you just ran a marathon, but your mind has already switched into content production mode — the ship had already sunk, so might as well make this worth something.
With the camera still in hand, you lean in for a better shot.
“Alright, show me the result,” you say bluntly, pointing the camera at the target.
Eunbi moves slowly, resting her elbows on the mattress, her legs still trembling a bit, and with a satisfied smile on her face, she spreads her cheeks with her hands, fully opening the angle for the lens.
“Is this good?” she asks with that fake sweetness you now recognize as part of the performance, but it still works anyway.
“Perfect,” you reply, adjusting the focus, the lens capturing every detail. She spreads her ass slightly, and the cum inside slowly drips out, a bright white line lazily descending, as if it knows it's the star of the show.
“Now look at the camera, baby,” you ask, while she turns her head back, her masked eyes meeting the lens with that look of pure satisfaction. “Tell them what just happened.”
Eunbi, without hesitation, slips into the sweet and innocent tone of her role, “Look what he did to me... filled my little ass with cum.” She giggles, and it's genuine, mixed with that post-climax thrill. “I guess you really like me, huh, bro?”
“Of course I do,” you say, more as part of the act than anything else.
But deep down, there’s something there that isn’t just performance.
“Now rub it a little,” you ask. Eunbi giggles, and you help her, pulling one of her cheeks while she starts rubbing a finger around the entrance, mixing your semen with her juice.
“See that, bro?” she asks with an adorable giggle, “Now I’m all dirty because of you!”
The camera focuses on the scene as you let out a tired but satisfied moan. “I can see that, princess. You got really messy.”
She keeps playing with her fingers, spreading the remnants of your load provocatively, knowing exactly how to play to the lens. “And now, what are you gonna do to me? You left my little ass all wrecked, it’s burning a lot…”
You pretend to think, but the answer is obvious. “Well, I guess now I need to take care of you, don’t I?”
“With love?” she asks, voice full of tenderness.
“With a lot of love,” you reply.
The camera finally shuts off with that classic final beep, like it’s exhausted too. You let out a sigh, while Eunbi, still catching her breath, stands up and removes the mask.
"Yeah, game over," you say, placing the camera on the desk. The vibe shifts instantly. The heavy air from the scene disappears, and the apartment feels normal again, like it had been put in studio mode for a brief moment.
Eunbi stretches her arms like she’s just woken up from a nap, then extends a hand toward you. You high-five, like two classmates finishing a school project instead of… well, what you just did.
“We did good,” she says with a tired but satisfied smile. “Teamwork was solid.”
“Yeah, it was,” you respond, still trying to process it all. “You okay? I mean... because of, you know...”
She laughs, shaking her head. “The anal? Oh, I should have used the fucking lube. But I’m fine. It stings a little, but it'll pass," she explains, as if she’s talking about a mild sunburn.
You’re not sure if you should feel relieved or admire how casually she handles it. Before you can overthink it, Eunbi suddenly turns and hugs you. The warmth of her body against yours is almost comforting, even with sweat still drying on your skin. “Seriously, thanks for doing this with me,” she murmurs, her voice soft, almost vulnerable.
You stand there, a bit awkward, but aware that this moment matters. “It was kinda… weird, right?”
She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, chuckling lightly. “Weird? Of course it was weird. But, like, in a funny way. It was a little bizarre at first, but then it was just… getting into character. In the end, we just… made it work.” She shrugs, and the gesture is so typical of her—practical, lighthearted, never taking things too seriously.
“Next time,” she says, pulling off her tight baby tee, “I’ll pick something less... out of the comfort zone.”
She laughs and casually grabs her panties and skirt from the floor.
You watch as she straightens up and walks toward the bedroom door, already slipping back into her natural self, as if the scene had just been a quick detour from routine.
“Wanna shower with me?” she asks, with no malice, just a simple invitation after a particularly exhausting marathon.
You hesitate, a second that feels like forever. The temptation to give in once more is strong. It’d be so easy to say 'yes,' to go with the flow. But you shake your head, declining. "I'll go later... I need to make the bed."
She raises an eyebrow, surprised by the refusal, but doesn’t push. “Alright,” she says with an easy smile, already heading for the shower. But before she crosses the door, she turns, like she’s about to say something important. You even brace yourself, expecting some post-scene revelation, some deep reflection.
“Feel like pizza tonight?” she asks, with not a trace of tension or seriousness.
“Yeah… I guess,” you reply vaguely, still trying to keep up with how quickly she shifts gears.
And then it’s just you and the messy bed. The camera’s still there, the sheets that need fixing, but what really needs fixing is your head. You wish you hadn’t agreed to film. Hadn’t let her hands on your skin convince you again. But how do you resist Eunbi when, with that smile and a promise, she makes everything seem like one big fun game, a fantasy that’s too easy to fall into?
Except while she can turn off the character with a snap and get back to her practical life, you’re stuck. Because it’s not the role that’s messing with your head, it’s what’s behind it. It’s what you feel for her, something you know shouldn’t exist and that Eunbi clearly doesn’t share. To her, it’s work, pleasure, about views and clicks. And sure, who would turn down being the lucky partner in a porn video with Eunbi?
But at the end of the day, is that all you are? You sigh, trying to focus on fixing the bed, while inside, the knot tightens.
It’s a cloudy morning, with that fine misty rain that barely gets you wet but can soak you through if you stand still for two minutes. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, tying the laces on your running shoes. Running is something you used to do every day, a habit you let go of for some reason that now escapes you. But today is different. You’ve decided to start running again because, as always, it helps organize the mental chaos that has become your life lately.
As you pass through the hallway, Eunbi’s bedroom door is half-open. You think about closing it to keep the warmth in, but a glow from inside stops you. It’s the light from her laptop. You hesitate, but of course, your curiosity wins. You peek in as casually as possible, and there she is: Eunbi, sleeping in a way that’s both adorable and awkward, with the laptop still on beside her, like it fell asleep with her, exhausted from hours of work. Or from whatever she spent the night editing.
You can’t help it. In fact, it’s impossible to resist. Seeing her sleep so peacefully stirs something in you, only making the mess in your head worse. Why does she have to be so… Eunbi? You walk over, switch off the laptop that’s still open on the OnlyFans homepage, with the notification icon showing +99 interactions. You close the lid carefully and place it on the desk. Then, you adjust the blankets that are haphazardly draped over her.
She stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up.
You start running in the park, with that light rain and cold wind cutting across your face—the kind of weather the meteorologists would call 'uncomfortable,' but you would call 'perfect for clearing your head.' Each step on the wet pavement echoes in your ears. With every breath, your chest tightens, not just from the cold, but because the only thing more intense than the physical effort is the whirlwind of thoughts now screaming in your mind.
Eunbi. Always her. Like a beautiful shadow you can’t shake. The images from last night, the mask, the dirty talk, the way she always seems to know exactly how to melt any resistance you try to build up. You almost laugh, bitterly, realizing just how pathetic it is to be stuck in this cycle.
Fuck, the truth is you’ve been hopelessly in love with her for a while now. Of course, you have, but the problem isn’t knowing it—it’s figuring out what to do about it. You’re running, trying to escape the reality that no matter how much you love Eunbi, she seems to be in a completely different universe. A universe where she can suggest absurd things, like some ridiculous roleplay or a threesome, while you, the idiot, are more worried about the color of the blanket you adjusted for her earlier.
Sweat drips down your forehead, mixing with the rain. You pick up the pace, trying to turn this confusion into clarity. You can’t keep living on this emotional rollercoaster. Every time she involves you, you convince yourself it’s just your body being used as a tool, just another role to play to help her grow in this obscure niche.
But with every touch, every smile, your mind whispers: What if it’s not?
What if, somehow, she’s just as lost in this as you are?
Maybe if you finally tell her how you feel, the pieces will fall into place. She could leave this life of videos, masks, and scripts behind. It would be a release for both of you. And then, you could have something normal. A real relationship. One that doesn’t involve cameras and personas. The idea starts to take shape, becoming clearer with every mile you run. You love Eunbi. Simple. And you need to tell her. Simple as that.
Well, in theory.
The park is empty, except for a few brave souls who also thought running in the cold was a fantastic idea. You run one more lap, your body asking for rest, but your mind now buzzing with purpose. When you get back to the apartment, you’ll tell her. Direct and honest.
Then your phone vibrates. You slow down, your shoes hitting the wet ground more softly as you pull out your phone. A message. It’s from your friend. I think it worked, he writes. Your heart races in a different way this time. HR liked her profile. I think they’re gonna make an offer, man. Stay tuned. You almost slip on the path, coming to a sudden stop.
What worked? Oh, right. The plan.
The plan you secretly put together.
The job opening at the company where your friend works, in the marketing department.
The one where you secretly submitted Eunbi’s LinkedIn profile, trying to give her a chance to get out of this crazy content creator life.
Looks like the damn universe is finally working in your favor.
You find yourself smiling like an idiot.
‘It worked.’
She could have a normal life, away from the cameras, and you could start fresh together.
You barely even feel the fatigue anymore.
Now there’s only one thing left: the conversation with Eunbi.
Because, of course, confessing your feelings to a woman you see every day, who sleeps in the room next to yours, with whom you’ve been through situations that would challenge any definition of ‘strange,’ should be easy, right?
You take a deep breath.
No, it won’t be easy.
But it’ll be worth it.
Eunbi is in the kitchen, still looking half-asleep as she holds a cup of coffee. The dim light from the cloudy morning mixes with the cold glow of her phone screen, which she scrolls through lazily with her thumb. The coffee—a blend of ‘I need to wake up’ and’ 'I’m not sure this will help’—warms her hands, but her mind is far from awake. Her reflection on social media, though, is wide awake.
With an automatic gesture, she opens the comment tab on the latest video. It’s the new roleplay video you and she recorded the day before. The video had already racked up an impressive number of views. She sighs, taking a sip as she reads through the comments. It’s the usual mix of praise, teasing, and, of course, the kind of absurdity only the internet can provide.
"Little sis, you drove me crazy today!"
Eunbi lets out a muffled laugh. "Little sis" was probably the mildest term she came across in that sea of comments.
She quickly types a reply:
"Careful, or 'big brother' will get you too! 😘"
"I wish I were your blood brother, damn, just to make it all wrong!! I'd sneak into your room every night after our parents were asleep so we could 'play' together 😈"
Who knew people could take a weird fantasy and make it even more bizarre and unsettling?
"You need therapy, darling, but thanks for the love 🙂"
"The way you bit your lip... it made me... lose my mind."
Ah yes, the detail-oriented observers. They're always around.
"Glad I could help!!"
And then comes the classic:
"Step on me more, mommy!!!"
This time, she laughed out loud. What kind of twisted logic was this?
'Mommy' in a little sister video?
"Sweetie, pick a fantasy. I can't be your little sis AND your mommy at the same time 😅"
"Just show your face already, everyone knows you're hot"
She paused for a second. That comment felt like a jab somewhere inside her. Her face was the last piece she kept hidden, the final wall of protection between Eunbi and the world she had chosen to explore.
She took another sip of coffee as the comments kept popping up on the screen. The amount of absurdity was always a surprise, even for her. But the show had to go on, and responding was an important part of ‘engagement’.
Ah, the wonderful engagement.
"You’re my muse. One day, I’ll marry you!"
She rolled her eyes but kept a polite tone in her reply:
"Glad to inspire... but let’s start with something simpler, like not marrying strangers from the internet.
Kisses 😘"
Next comment.
"I'd give anything to be that tight top on your massive tits 😊"
Eunbi nearly dropped her phone from laughing so hard. What kind of fetish was this now? She took a deep breath before typing:
"Well, it’s actually a baby tee, but I guess clothes live too dull a life for anyone to want to be one. But who am I to judge your dreams?"
Another one popped up right after.
"Hey sis, how about teaching me in person? I’ve got so much to learn... 😏"
Ah, the ever-eager students. She rolled her eyes again, smiling slightly.
"You can learn a lot on your own with a good imagination!"
"You should make a video stepping on Legos barefoot. I bet that would be amazing!!!"
What? Where did these people come from? She bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter as she typed her reply:
"I try to keep my videos at an entertainment level, not torture 🥰 But I appreciate the creativity!"
"It’s obvious you only do this because you love being a slut, I can see it in your expression, even with the mask 🔥 I’m already your number one fan."
Her smile faltered a little. A mix of praise and silent invasion that left her with a mild discomfort.
"Glad you enjoyed the content! Loving what I do is essential. But don’t get too carried away, alright?"
She gave one last glance at the rising view and like counts, but the comments started to lose their charm.
And that’s when the ping of a LinkedIn notification appeared at the top of the screen. An app she had basically forgotten she had installed since the last time she used it was to block an annoying old guy who was pestering her.
She reads the message:
Subject: Job Opportunity - Marketing Department.
Dear Kwon Eunbi,
We are pleased to inform you that your profile has caught the attention of our Marketing Department. After a brief review, we would like to invite you to participate in the selection process for the position of Marketing Analyst.
Responsibilities:
- Development of communication and digital marketing strategies;
- Analysis of KPIs and market trends;
- Collaboration with creative teams and planning advertising campaigns;
Requirements:
- Bachelor’s degree in Marketing or related fields;
- Previous experience managing digital campaigns;
Benefits:
- Competitive salary;
- Health and dental plan;
- Flexibility for hybrid work (remote);
We look forward to your response to schedule an interview.
She almost spits out her coffee.
What the hell is this?!
For a second, everything seemed to make sense, as if the universe was aligning the stars to give her a 'respectable' way out.
But only for a second.
In truth, it felt like the damn universe was conspiring against her.
The thought of waking up early every day, dressing like an executive, sitting in a cubicle, and smiling at people she probably couldn’t stand while doing mechanical tasks...
“No, no, no. No way,” she says aloud in the empty apartment as anxiety starts to tighten around her. And the strangest part is that she feels... bad. Bad for not wanting it. Bad for thinking she should want it.
She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her mind. Maybe she should, right? Maybe being ‘normal’ would be easier. Maybe this whole video thing is just a phase. She looks at her coffee, as if it held the answers, but it only reflected her face back at her. She gulps the rest down, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
On the one hand, the college-era Eunbi would’ve jumped for joy at this message. A great job in her field, something ‘respectable’ career-wise; it doesn’t get much better than that.
Well, to be fair, it wasn’t exactly her big dream, but who, after all, dreams of spreadsheets and endless emails? But now, the idea of a normal life, with bosses, deadlines, and white collars, suffocates her more than any corset in a photoshoot. She’s thinking about how good it felt to leave all that behind, how much she loved the freedom she had now.
Sure, she graduated, but that’s not what she wants.
Not anymore.
But
On the other hand, something inside her hesitated to accept that she didn’t want this opportunity. It was like there was a younger version of her somewhere, screaming in panic: "You can’t be serious, right? Turning down a job like that to... keep being a virtual slut? You’re definitely not me..." And that little voice it's annoying because it hit on an uncomfortable truth. She had, at some point, carved out a different path. A temporary one. And now, this path it's leading her into the unknown, and this offer it's like a way back to her old life.
Monotonous, but dignified.
Difficult, but without exposure.
The safe choice or the leap into the abyss.
College-era Eunbi would say being stuck in an absurd dilemma like this was insane. But the Eunbi of today knows that 'conventional' career isn’t for her.
"This is my life now," she murmurs to herself. Creating adult content wasn’t just a choice; it was her choice. And not only is she going to keep doing it — she’s going all in!
Showing her face.
Now that would be a bold move.
No more masks.
The real Eunbi for the world.
She only has one small obstacle ahead: you. She needs to tell you. Explain how things were about to change. Show you that, even though she once said this was temporary, she’s rediscovered herself and finally found something she’s good at and willing to put her effort into.
She sighs and thinks about the conversation she’ll have. Knowing you, it’s going to be a tough one. You’ll definitely want to argue, try to convince her to take the more traditional route, thinking you’re protecting her. But it’s her life, her body, her decisions.
And if she’s going all in, she has to start by being honest.
When you get back, she’ll lay it all out. In the meantime, she stretches, still feeling the weight of the job offer, and tries to imagine the look on your face when she explains her plans.
You come back from the run looking like a drowned rat, which, considering the weather outside, is a reasonably accurate description. Your shoes make that annoying sponge sound as you walk across the room, and Eunbi is there, sitting on the couch, sipping coffee like she’s contemplating the meaning of life—or more realistically, deciding what her next big revelation of the morning is going to be.
“Good morning,” you mutter, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Good morning...” she replies. You look away as if you have something really important to do—like grab a towel.
The bathroom is a good place to rehearse difficult conversations, so you do that while you dry off, but the words still sound wrong in your head. It’s not like there’s a manual on how to confess to your best friend that you’re in love with her after you’ve filmed sex videos together.
It would be helpful if there was.
After grabbing a coffee and taking a sip, bracing yourself for the bomb you’re about to drop, you walk back to the living room. Eunbi is still there, but now you’re looking at each other like two actors who know the big scene is coming, but neither wants to be the first to step on stage.
“We need to talk,” you both say at the same time, which would be funny if it weren’t an absolutely terrible moment for comedy.
“You first,” you say, trying to sound generous.
“No… you, please,” she insists.
“Okay,” you sigh, sitting down on the couch, already feeling the weight of what’s about to happen. The words gather in your throat, like a rescue team about to jump out of a helicopter. “Look, what I’m about to say isn’t easy. In fact, it’s pretty hard. And it could... well, it could change our friendship. Maybe forever.”
Eunbi nods, encouraging you, though her expression clearly says, ‘I know this is big, but I’m going to pretend I’m calm.’
“I love you,” you finally say, the words coming out stronger than you expected. “And no, it’s not just a friend thing. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been feeling this for a while. Since... since we started filming together, actually. Every time we did a scene, something inside me got more confused, like the fake sex was revealing real feelings.”
Eunbi looks at you, surprised, but she doesn’t interrupt, so you keep going. “I thought it was temporary, something that would go away over time, but it only got stronger. And honestly, I can’t keep going like this, pretending nothing’s changed, because it has. I’m in love with you, for real. I want to be with you. Not just filming together, but... living with you, as a couple. I want us to be real.”
You take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension release from your chest, but vulnerability quickly takes its place. Eunbi looks at you, her eyes slightly teary, and then, before anything else, she says, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” you repeat, confused.
“For making you film all of this with me. I didn’t know what you were going through. I had no idea it was hurting you inside. If I’d known...” She pauses, trying to find the right words, but they seem as hard for her as they were for you. “I would’ve stopped.”
You shake your head, almost laughing, but not in a happy way. “No, you don’t have to apologize. What matters is now, and now is that... I’m being honest. I love you.”
She smiles, that smile you know so well, but now it seems different, softer, more... meaningful. “I like you too. A lot. And I’m not just saying that because you confessed. It’s weird, you know? I’ve been in relationships before, but it was never like this. We have this... bond, this connection I’ve never had with anyone. And I think, actually, I’ve always felt something for you, I just didn’t know exactly what it was. Now I do.”
She pauses, wiping away a solitary tear that escaped despite her efforts. “I want this too. I want to be with you. For real. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. We’ve spent so much time together, it... feels right. It feels like it’s how it’s supposed to be.”
You feel your heart leap in your chest. It’s surreal, all of this.
“So...?”
“So... I guess we’re together,” she says, still smiling, and this time you feel like the smile is for you, and only you.
“Finally,” you say, half-joking, but it’s an undeniable truth.
Still in the high of the magical moment, your heart beating faster than usual for all the right reasons, you decide now is the perfect moment to drop your second bomb.
“Oh, there’s one more thing,” you say, smiling like someone who just found a lost bill in their coat pocket. “Great news, actually. My friend messaged me. The company where he works loved your profile!! You might be getting a job offer soon!”
You wait for a scream of happiness, a tight hug, or even an improvised celebratory dance, but none of that happens. Eunbi doesn’t react the way you imagined. In fact, she seems to have frozen in place, as if someone hit the pause button on real life.
“So it was you?” she asks, her voice suddenly cold.
“Me?” you repeat, having no idea where this is coming from. “Me what?”
She sighs, like someone on the verge of losing their patience. “I got a job offer on LinkedIn.”
You blink, absorbing the information, and then smile widely. “Oh, so it worked! That’s great! I mean, now you have a chance to get out of this life... right?” But Eunbi’s expression, far from joyful, is one of... anger? Something between irritation and deep disappointment starts to form in her eyes.
“Why the hell did you do that?” she asks, her tone more like a police interrogation than a simple question.
You’re stunned, you feel like you’ve just been slapped in the face. “What? I was trying to help. I just wanted what’s best for you!”
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she fires back, her tone growing harsher, like someone who’s been holding something in for a long time and finally let it out.
The ground starts to shift beneath your feet, the romantic and peaceful moment now turning into an unexpected storm. “Drop the pride, Eunbi,” you say, trying to maintain control of the situation. “This is your chance to get out of this life. You don’t have to keep doing... you know, what you’re doing now. And now that we’re on the same page, that you feel something for me too, we can be a real couple. Isn’t that what you want?”
She looks at you for a long, silent moment, as if she’s trying to decide if you’re really as clueless as you seem or if you’re just pretending not to understand what’s happening.
“This has nothing to do with pride,” she says, finally, with a calm that’s more frightening than any scream. “That job offer... it made me feel like crap! It made me rethink everything. Who I am, what I want... And you just... don’t get it.”
You really don’t get it.
Of all the scenarios that ran through your head, this one didn’t even come close to showing up. “I don’t understand. You wanted a stable job in your field, didn’t you?”
She shakes her head, exasperated. “I thought I did. I mean, that was the initial plan when I got fired from my last job. But... I can’t. I don’t want to... What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not going to take that job.”
The silence that follows is so heavy you can almost hear the sound of raindrops hitting the window.
“So, what are you going to do?” you ask, your voice quieter than you expected.
Eunbi looks you in the eye, and suddenly, the full weight of what she’s about to say appears in her expression. “I’m going to keep doing what I do. I’m going to be an adult content creator, but this time, I’m going all in. No more anonymity. I’m going to show my face. That’s what I’ve decided. This is going to be my life now.”
It’s at that moment that your brain, which had been busy processing the joy of the love confession, just stops working.
This wasn’t in the script.
She was supposed to be happy about the job, you were supposed to be celebrating and planning a future as a normal couple.
Not this...
“You... you want to keep doing this?” you ask, incredulity leaking into every word.
She looks at you with a mix of sadness and determination. “Yes. I want to keep doing it. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’re going to have to accept all of that too.”
The words echo in the room. You stand there, looking at her, trying to fit the pieces of this emotional puzzle that, until seconds ago, was a beautiful, simple picture of a future together. Now, it feels more like one of those abstract paintings people pretend to understand.
She takes a deep breath, and you can tell that the emotion is about to overflow. "Look... I really love you. Truly. And if you want, I'll be the happiest woman in the world by your side. But—" she pauses, the word hanging in the air like a sword about to fall, "if you want to be with me, you’re going to have to accept this Eunbi. The Eunbi you see now, who does what she does. And the weight that comes with it."
Silence. You hear your heart pounding in your chest, so loud it's a wonder Eunbi can't hear it too. The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion, the time between blinks stretching out as if the master of time himself is waiting to see what you’ll say. But what can you say? You’re still processing everything. The confession, the proposal, the fact that she wants to continue in this career—and wants you to be a part of it.
"You... you want to... keep going?" The question comes out hesitantly. You can hardly believe you're asking it. The shock is a physical thing, sitting between you like a third person in the room.
Eunbi, her eyes already shining with tears she’s trying so hard to hold back, nods. "Yes. I want to keep going. I want people to see me. I want to keep doing what I do. I love it. And if you’re going to be with me, you’ll have to accept all of that too."
The tears finally fall, one after the other, as if gravity had won the battle she was trying to fight. You watch, unsure if what you’re feeling is fear, sadness, or some strange sense of relief.
Maybe all of it at once.
She continues, her voice now shaky but still steady. “You can think it over, if you want. This is serious. Our parents are going to find out sooner or later. You know the kind of exposure we’ll face... that I’ll face. And if you’re with me, we’ll be facing that together.”
Eunbi looks directly at you, the intensity in her eyes almost painful. “You warned me about this before. You’ve always worried about me. But if you stay with me now, there’s no going back. People we know might find out, they might see. Are you really willing to risk everything because of me?”
Another pause. This time, it’s not dramatic. It’s just a simple pause, where your mind, suddenly overwhelmed by all these emotions, finds a small space of clarity.
And in that space, the decision that seemed so complicated just moments ago suddenly makes sense.
“Yes,” you say, the word leaving your mouth with a calmness that surprises even you. Eunbi’s eyes widen, as if she isn’t sure she heard you right.
“I accept,” you continue, firmly. "I accept you as you are. If this is what you want to do with your life, then that’s fine by me. I’ll be by your side, no matter what."
She stands there, looking at you like you're some kind of alien that just landed on Earth. And then the tears she was holding back finally fall. But this time, they aren’t tears of sadness or anger. They’re something completely different. Relief, maybe. Or raw happiness, the kind you rarely see.
“Are you sure?” she asks, between sobs. "I... I mean, this won’t be easy! You can think about it more. You can really consider what you’re accepting, what it’s going to mean for you, for us."
You give her that half-smile, the one you know always made her feel safe. "Eunbi," you say, calmly, "I’ve already thought about it. I accept the risk, the exposure. I accept you... As long as I’m with you, it’s all okay."
And with that, she falls apart. Not in a sad or uncontrolled way, but in a beautiful, genuine way. She starts crying, but they’re tears of gratitude, of love, of everything she’s held inside for so long.
You step closer and wrap your arms around her, as if trying to protect her from the whole world. She cries into your chest, her words lost between sobs. You kiss the top of her head, taking in the familiar scent of the shampoo she always uses.
"I love you so much," she says through her tears, her voice muffled against you.
"I love you too," you reply, with a sincerity that fills her up from the inside. “We’re in this together.”
And then, there, in the midst of tears, hugs, and confessions, the world seems to align again. The mess it was before starts to make sense.
Okay, maybe it’s not a fairy tale, but who needs a fairy tale ending when you can have something this real, this alive, this raw, this imperfect and yet, somehow, so absolutely perfect?
And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
With her.
[Rubydden] Three minutes ago
This month, we’re going to skyrocket the quality of our content!!
And to kick things off: FACE REVEAL!!🔥🥳
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miguelsslvt · 1 year ago
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ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader
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part two here!
word count: 745
TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.
A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!
back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.
you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.
miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.
you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.
miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.
it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?
that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!
you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.
'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.
'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.
the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'
your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.
'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎
that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.
3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.
'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.
'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.
god, is this heaven?
♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
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esote-rika · 11 days ago
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A bookstore meet cute I wish I could experience | Spencer Reid
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Category: Fluff with S4 awkward, nerdy rizz Spencer
Warnings: use of Y/N, unedited (tenses keep shifting, sorry)
A/N: this is just 1.8k words of self indulgent self insert. Like this is inspired by some unpleasant experiences I've had talking with men about books in the past lol, and reader's responses defensive responses had been me at some point. i feel like a conversation with Spencer Reid would heal me, thus this fic. Also, save me, s4e9 Spencer Reid, save me.
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He seemed like a fixture to the bookstore, if fixtures moved on their own. Or if they moved up and down the aisles with elegant fingers tracing the spines of the books on display. Or if they dressed like a rumpled professor, complete with the black rimmed glasses. He just seemed like he was part of the space, and you thought that every bookstore should probably come with one - a tall, attractive nerd who drifted all over the room like some sort of phantom. Maybe that would help with the literacy problem. It certainly would bring more people in, make them more interested in reading.
You've been trying to figure him out from afar, as subtle as you can. You're not a creep, after all, but he cuts such a lonely figure that you couldn't help but wonder if he needed some company. A part of you wonders if he's noticed you as well. This store is your late afternoon treat, after all. You come here every Friday, without fail, even when you know the inventory is unreplenished, simply to bask in the presence of books.
And then he started coming in regularly, and you had another reason to come.
You never approached him. Something about simply knowing he's there, while remaining a stranger, is thrilling. You can romanticize him if he's a stranger, project all the wholesome fantasies and book boyfriends you have upon him with no sense of accountability.
It also means you avoid the disappointment if he turns out to be another condescending know it all, eager to put you and your reading habits down because oh your tastes are so girly.
No, this was better. You're a flaneur, you tell yourself, you're here to be part of the space and observe from within, even though you doubt this is what Baudelaire had in mind when he wrote that essay and defined the term.
Still.
You smile to yourself, crouching down to check the books on the lower shelf, and also to catch a glimpse of his legs. He'd been on the other side of this shelf for the past five minutes, and you've gotten a soft chuckle when you saw his mismatched socks.
However, his lean form is nowhere to be seen. He seems to have moved to another aisle. With a small frown, you move to stand up, only to feel a tug.
“Shit,” a quick glance down reveals that a familiar looking shoe has accidentally stepped on your long skirt. You hadn't realized it billowed out around you when you knelt down.
“Oh, I'm so sorry!”
You look up and realize why the shoe looks familiar. It's him. You couldn't see him in the other aisle because he'd moved to your side, so silently you hadn't even heard him.
“Sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t notice.” He steps off quickly, and you watch as his cheeks bloom bright pink. A pink that quickly travels down his neck.
You stifle a laugh at how easily he blushed. “It's fine.” Your attempt to stand is more successful without his foot pinning the fabric of your skirt to the ground.
“I've messed up your skirt though.” He says, looking at the brown smudge left behind on the skirt.
“It's no big deal, it’ll come out.” You shrug, getting a good look at him this time. He's taller than you thought, with a sharp bone structure that's softened by large, hazel eyes and pouty lips. His hair is slicked back, curling at the nape of his neck, the color a soft brown that matches his eyes. Yeah, one of him should really come in every bookstore, you think.
“O-okay, uh, if you're sure…” He says, rubbing his hands on his pants. A nervous energy emanates from him, disrupting your idea that he's calm and tranquil.
Oh well, there goes that fantasy. Still, you wonder if maybe he's nervous because of you.
“I still feel bad though,” He adds, looking around, “Uh, how about I buy you a book for the inconvenience?”
“It's hardly an inconvenience,” You laugh, “But hey, I won't say no to a free book.”
He perks up, “Great. I'm Spencer, by the way.”
“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Spencer.”
He repeats your name, and you find yourself enjoying the shape his mouth makes as he tests it out, lips and tongue wrapping around the syllables as if he wants to commit the way it feels in his memory.
You mentally kick yourself in the ass, wondering if you've read too many romance novels.
“Likewise,” He smiles, and you have to remind yourself that it's rude to stare at the lips of someone you just met. It's not your fault he has such pretty dimples, and you had the urge to count them. He continues, “So what kind of books do you like, Y/N? Romance?”
Your eyes narrow at that. You wonder how to answer. Yes? Would he judge you if you say yes? Is he one of those guys, the ones who only read heavy, intellectual books and look down on people who read fluff? Do you want to try and impress him by saying no, by scoffing and saying something like of course not I’m looking for a copy of Swann's Way by Marcel Proust? (which is the most “impressive” book you can think of at the moment). The idea seems too gross, too I'm not like other girls, and you immediately cross it out.
“And if I do?” you ask instead, surprised by the edge to your voice.
He blinks, then shrugs, looking entirely innocent. “Then we should head to the romance shelf over there.”
Once again, you're surprised. Some part of you had been expecting a smirk, maybe a roll of his eyes, that look you get when you even dare to bring up the romance genre. But, no. He starts walking to a different part of the store and you're forced to follow.
“Why did you think I read romance?” the words escape your lips before you can stop them.
He ducks behind a shelf, his hair falling down and hiding his face but you get a glimpse of the bright red skin of his neck. He's blushing again.
“Well, it's - ah - that is, I've noticed you here before, and you always seemed to hang out here in the romance section.” He says in a rush, his head still angled away from you.
You feel simultaneously called out, and a little giddy. So he's noticed you, just as much as you'd noticed him.
“So you're a stalker.” You can't help but tease.
He lets out a sound, somewhere between an indignant sputter and a scoff. “What? No! I just happen to be very observant, it's a skill I've learned to hone for my job, and you're not very hard to remember-” He cuts himself off, peeking at you with a horrified look on his face.
Laughter tumbles from your lips, and you clamp your teeth down your bottom lip to stop.
“I was teasing you.” You say, trying to fight the giggles.
He seems relieved, but the crease on his brow remains, a sign of his previous embarrassment.
“And you're right. The romance section has the biggest amount of secondhand books that I can read while I'm here.” You explain. This aisle also gives you the best view of the nonfiction section, which he frequents, therefore giving you the perfect spot to observe him over the past few weeks. Though you leave out that part.
“Ah,” He nods, looking around, “See anything you like?”
“No, I'm actually looking for a copy of The Hobbit right now.”
He lights up, “Oh, you're a fan of Tolkien too? I love him, he's such a genius and completely innovated the fantasy genre! So much so that he - wait, if you're looking for The Hobbit, why didn't you tell me sooner?”
“You just started walking.” You reply, smiling at him. He's adorable when he becomes so animated, hands waving around like his body can't contain his excitement and has to find ways to express them physically. “Had to follow you. But anyway, I'm assuming you've read The Hobbit?”
He accepts your explanation easily, then nods his head. You can't help but compare him to a puppy, so eager and nearly frantic in his excitement.
“I've read every Tolkien book.” He says, and you're surprised to find his voice contains no hint of superiority, or cockiness. Just genuine joy. It's refreshing, “Including The Silmarillion."
“Oh wow,” You laugh, aware of the reputation that tome carries, “I've only seen the Lord of The Rings movies.”
“Well that's not sufficient at all! You're missing out on so much history,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Mhm, well help me find The Hobbit first, before I move on to the trilogy.” You reply, already walking over to where you know the fantasy books are.
He follows you, smiling bashfully, “You know, I have copies of all the books… I can just lend them to you, if you want.”
You pause, glancing over your shoulder in surprise. “You'd let a stranger borrow your books?”
“Only if you promise to take care of them.” He says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“I swear on my life, I will not tarry your precious copies of Tolkien's masterpiece.” You make a cross over your heart for emphasis, which makes him laugh. This time, you stare at his lips shamelessly, enjoying the dimples that appeared from the action.
“Okay, maybe we meet up over coffee sometime?” he asks, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “I'll bring the books.”
You fight the urge to squeal. Your body refuses to contain the giddiness, and the sound compromises by coming out as a giggle.
“Yeah, sure.” you watch as he digs into his pocket, handing over a card. “Oh, how very professional.” You say playfully, accepting the slip of paper.
He ducks his head, and you see the beginnings of the blush creeping down his neck. It feels exhilarating, being able to make him blush like this.
“It's just more practical.” He mumbles.
You grab your phone quickly, typing in his number and giving it a call, so that your number goes through his as well. “I'll give you a call. But, you still owe me a book for this.” You motion at your skirt, at the stain of his footprint on the fabric.
He chuckles, “Of course. Can't go back on my promise.” he looks around the store and you're taken by the sight of him, looking like he's part of the space, like he simply belongs here. And this time, with you standing next to him, with him. “Take your pick.”
“I'm pretty indecisive.” You say playfully.
“I have time.” He smiles, and you find he has two dimples on one side of his face, and only one on the other. Your chest feels heavy with something that you can't quite put a name to yet, but you're eager for more of it.
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