#only reason I know you could hear it from outside is because

[nera-forest]

NOELLE FALLEN ANGEL

-SNOWGRAVE CONCEPT-

Okay this is a lil old but tryna use tumblr more and I used a fair amount of my brain for this concept, since I really like the idea of snowgrave making noelle a crazy powerful boss from Kris' influence kinda pushing her too far. any way I wanna break down my thought process a lil (even if a bit messy) so if you wanna hear me yap (warning, im really not the best at formulating words outside my head) read on. if not...mood board I made at bottom

TW// BLOOD, SHEDDING IN MOOD BOARD- might make people uncomfortable The main things I wanted to show in this design was the angel look and Christmas theme, all while pushing a more sad, hollow and evil look as i feel the juxtapose to "happy Christmas vibes" would make for a more tragic kind of feeling (with what we know of Noelle's character so far). getting the Christmas look was the fun easy part, I knew for a fact i wanted her silhouette to look like a Christmas tree. maybe because subconsciously a pine tree shape and look quite powerful or be kinda spooky. Much like a Christmas tree I wanted to implement the decorative aspect, tinsel, and baubles, but also got inspired by those paper snowflakes id make as a kid. the tinsel I put around the trim, and treated the baubles like reindeer harness Christmas bells, the snowflake like a lace trim but also draped like a head piece around the antlers (this is actually shed reindeer velvet) naturally angels and Christmas go hand in hand but i wanted to push the elegant look...and put a halo on her, like a decoration at the top of the tree framed by her antlers. oh and another thing being the star shape on her torso? i wanted another strong shape within the tree silhouette to draw focus a bit more (especially with the red...but ill talk color in a bit). a great segway to that actually is the ice/snow aspects, the reason i wanted this is ice naturally is another thing that can be both pretty and dreadful. for the design I like the idea of the more she uses her powers the more she gets covered in frost (im a sucker for character corruption) . i wanted to have the antlers go from cute to dangerous, I drew them as velvet shed antlers first, but also wanted to keep a little of her past on her design, so adding the ice shape in a way to allow the red of the antlers to show the old shape worked well by me. some more ice/snow i added was around her hoofs, hands and muzzle. the hooves frost shaping to be like a high heel shoe much like how reindeers have white fur close to the base of their hooves too. her hands fully frosted over not only because of main power direction source but to kind of look like elegant gloves. the frost on her face was mainly to add variety to her face while considering reindeer fur coloration, it also helped frame her red nose which helps draw focus to her face a bit more. general color summery, i wanted colors that contrast and give a feeling of cold and bad. but also red for Christmas yippee how fun!

last thing I guess is the pose. with this i had my silhouette first but realized I could do a sort of angel opening arms. which is naturally a welcoming and caring gesture, but in the context of the design kinda makes the vibe more creepy which....of course that worked for what i wanted to go for so i did that but uuuh yea, that's my thought process with it...there was probably more but I didn't write down stuff in the moment of making it. here is a very minimal moodboard. again

TW// BLOOD, SHEDDING IN MOOD BOARD- might make people uncomfortable:

[windsroad]

there's also, like, a weird feeling, like "up the wolves" kind of feeling, knowing how you grew up and knowing the screaming from the house was audible to the neighbors and knowing no one ever did anything or called anyone

I know it wasn't physical abuse (at least, not that I am aware of, though there are a few memories where I do not know what happened when the people in question left my sight) but it still makes me feel some type of way. like they didn't know it wasn't, you know

[cloudcountry]

since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE

reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT

mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.

Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.

Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.

Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.

Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.

Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.

Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)

Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.

Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.

Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!

Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?

Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.

Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.

Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.

Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.

Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!

Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?

Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.

Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?

Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.

Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.

Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[davinawritings]

Making It Fit

Hi Guys! This is Part 2 of my Yandere Dragon Drabble. I hope you enjoy it! This does switch point of views in different parts! Let me know if you like the different POVs or would rather keep it to more just reader POV. Also I felt the Dragon needed a name because this is now a full length fic so I went with Kai!

Pairing: Yandere Male Dragon x Female Human Reader

Warning: Smut, Teratophilia, Dub-con / Non-Con, Giant Cock, Huge Size Difference. Breeding Kink, Cervix Penetration, Creampie, Squirting, Overstimulation, Oral (male on female)

Word Count: 3,273

Part 1

Kai traveled in the direction of the southern woods. The last he had heard, the witch had taken up residence a little outside one of the villages there. He hoped the witch was still there. Witches could be picky and tricky but he knew this witch had a fondness for precious gems.

The entire flight he tried not to think about the reason for his travels. Knowing there could be a chance to fuck his little human properly made his cock swell with anticipation. He didn’t care what the price was so long as he could bury himself in her cunt.

Finally seeing the witches cottage, he notices the smoke rising from the chimney and takes it as a good sign. He descends gracefully and before he can even take a step the witch has opened her front door. She looks him up and down before saying, “Kai. It has been quite a long time. What brings you to my woods?”.

“I have come to request a favor. I have taken a human to mate and sh-” , he begins to explain but is quickly cut off by the witches cackling.

“You took a human to mate. A tiny little human for a large dragon! I see why you are here then. You haven’t been able to fuck your human,” she says between laughs. He simply stares at her unimpressed. When her laughter fails to stop he lets out a low growl causing the witch to finally compose herself.

Wiping the tears from her left eye she says, “You are in luck today dragon. I do have a couple solutions for you, but they come at a high cost.”.

“I do not care what it costs. My only desire is her.”. The Witch grins and replies, “just what I wanted to hear. Bring me one hundred rubies and I shall give you a potion for her. Once she drinks it her body will become more pliable and her cunt will be able to stretch to accommodate your cock. You will have twenty four hours to do with her what you please before the potion wears off”.

Kai’s cock twitches and begins pulsing at the thought. Images of your small body taking his massive cock, splitting you open and filling you for hours on end. He almost agrees when he remembers the witch said she had a couple solutions.

“What is the other solution? I want to know all my options before we make a deal”. The Witch grins even wider and says, “my other solution comes at a much higher price. One I don’t think you will be willing to pay”. He growls and tells her, “ I told you witch, I don’t care how much I pay. Tell me my other option”. He feels the fire burning at the back of his throat at her words. How dare she insinuate that you are not important enough for him to pay her price! You are everything!

“My other option for you is a more permanent solution. I will brew a potion that allows you to fit inside your little human. This one will last as long as she lives. I will also brew it to bind her life to yours. You know pesky little humans have such short lives. They are lucky if they make it to one hundred, while dragons live for thousands of years. It will bind her life force to yours. She will no longer age and will live until your last breath. It will also mutate her body to actually be able to carry your offspring. But remember dragon, it will not be cheap. If this is what you truly desire it will cost everything you have. Your entire hoard of gems and treasure. It will cost all of it”.

He narrows his eyes at the witch. She knows a dragon's hoard is their greatest pride. He is already almost seven hundred years old and his hoard is extensive but he can’t deny his need for you. He cannot imagine a world where you grow old and weak in so little time. A world where he does not have you in it. The thought alone makes him want to burn every village in the world to the ground. Even just the thought of life without you makes him want to kill anyone and everyone.

“ I’ll start bringing everything over. It will take a few trips but I will get it done today. When can you have the potion done?”. The witch fails to hide her surprise and excitement, not expecting his agreement. “I will have it ready for you by this evening and remember dragon, I will know if you try to cheat me of my treasure. I want everything”.

Kai takes to the skies once again. He wants this done as soon as possible. The sooner he has the potion, the sooner he can ravish your body and you will both start your lives together. He will rebuild his hoard of treasure with you at his side as his mate.

Upon returning to his lair he finds you asleep and decides against waking you. You will need all the rest you can get for tonight. He quickly finds the best way to bundle up all his accumulated treasures. Unfortunately it will take several trips but he knows it will be worth it in the end.

He continues to fly back and forth bringing his treasure to the witch. With each trip he can’t help but get more and more excited. When he returns to the lair for the last batch of treasure he finds you awake and looking around distraught.

He is by your side instantly checking you over to make sure you are unharmed. Before he can ask if you are alright you say, “I don’t know what happened. Almost everything is gone. Someone must have taken all of your treasure and I didn’t even hear them. I don’t understand how this could have happened”. Your voice is filled with worry and panic and he immediately tries to soothe you.

Bringing a claw up to gently stroke the side of your face he tells you, “It is okay my little mate. I took everything. It is payment for something even greater. I need to take the last batch to the witch in order to get the potion for you but I will be back shortly”.

As he snatches up the last of the treasure you ask, “What potion? What are you talking about Kai? What witch?”. He looks at you and sees the unease in your eyes. It unsettles him a bit. He doesn’t want you to worry and try to leave while he is gone. You have a little bit too much clarity in your eyes for him to feel comfortable leaving you alone right now.

He guides you back to the pile of blankets that he set up for you. Nudging you to lie back he immediately lowers his mouth to your pussy. His thick tongue parts your lips as he licks long strokes up your slit. His rough tongue bumping your clit with each stroke. You try to pull away a bit to ask your questions again, wanting to know what is going on but a warning growl keeps you in place.

Kai thrusts his tongue into you, stretching your pussy and using the tip of his tongue to bully your g-spot. You cry out and he moans at the gush of arousal that pours onto his tongue. He thrust his tongue quickly, the movements smooth dues to your arousal and his saliva. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to wash over you.

Kai gives you no time to calm down and continues his assault on your cunt. You whine from the overstimulation and try to move away but he holds you in place. The tip of his tongue moves to your cervix, licking and thrusting against it as he pleases. The mix of pleasure and pain is too much and you are quickly shoved into another orgasm.

He finally relents as you practically melt into the bed barely able to keep your eyes open. He waits until your breathing evens out before giving your dripping pussy one last little lick. He quickly grabs the last of the treasure and heads back for the witches cottage.

The timing is perfect as when he gets there the witch is sitting in front of her new treasure pile with the potion in hand. As he drops the last of the treasure she holds out the small vial. He takes it and keeps it clutched safely in his claws. He mumbled out a quick thanks to the witch before heading for home once again.

He can feel the desire and excitement burning through his body. His cock is pulsing and hardens completely as his lair comes into view. He lands and makes his way inside. You look as if you had just woken up again and immediately began to question him again.

“What were you speaking about before? Where is everything?”. He lays back and pulls you on top of him. He moves you to glide along the underside of his cock as he begins to explain.

“I gave all of my treasure to a witch so she would brew a potion for us. This potion is going to make it so I can finally have my cock inside of you. We will be together as one, as we were meant to be”. His claws wrap around your waist and start to drag you faster along his cock. The smooth ridges and scattered scales rub against your cunt making it hard to process what he is telling you. He shifts you slightly and drags your exposed clit over one of the thick veins on the underside of his cock and you whimper softly at the direct stimulation. Your mind begins to become fuzzy from the lust and desire, thinking rationally becoming harder.

“ The potion will also bind your life to me. You will not age anymore. You will live for thousands of years at my side. You are my mate and we will create our own family. You will warm my cock every day and every night. We will create little dragons and spend eternity with each other my love”.

His words cause a slight panic to begin rising in your chest. The lust in your eyes fading slightly into panic. He narrows his eyes at you and pushes your puffy pussy down harder on his cock causing you to cry out. His thrusts speed up and he puts his focus on your clit. “ Do you want to cum little one? You want me to make you release all of your slippery juices along my cock? Huh?”.

Nodding your head you feel your desperation for release rising. You are right on the edge and you can feel your pussy starting to overrule your mind. The need to cum in so intense your clit is throbbing with each movement of his cock between your slick thighs.

He lifts the uncorked vial to your lips and says, “ Drink this now little mate. Drink it and I’ll let you cum until you physically can't anymore”. In the back of your mind you know you shouldn’t drink it. This is going to seal your fate for the rest of eternity. He will never let you go after this.

Unfortunately your brain isn’t the part of your body that is currently in control. As you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, you tilt your head back and he pours the potion into your mouth. You swallow and it’s like your whole body is engulfed in heat.

Your pussy throbs as you squirt over his cock. It feels like you don’t stop cumming for hours and Kai just stares at you completely enraptured as you fall apart in front of him.

He lets you come down from your high for a few minutes before he moves your body, eager to see the potion work. You lift your head to look at him as his clawed hand holds you in the air, directly above his cock. You look at him and begin shaking your head, it won’t fit, there’s no way it will fit.

Before you can voice your protest he lowers you so the tip of his cock is pressing against your opening. His tip comes to a point at the top and pushes into you with ease. Your walls stretch wide as your pussy struggles to take more of his tip that quickly flares out. You give a small whine at the feeling of the stretch. It’s not painful but it is uncomfortable and you haven’t even gotten the full head of his cock in you yet.

Kai gives your body a short but hard tug down and with that the head of his cock slips in full. He lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a growl at the feeling. Your pussy is already squeezing him so tight and there is so much more to go.

You feel him jerk your body down again and his shaft starts filling you inch by inch. You already feel so full but your body seems to be adjusting to the massive intrusion much better than you thought it would. You are only about half way when he lifts you up and drops you back down to that same halfway point. The stretching sensation is too much and your pussy clamps down on his cock as you cum. You let out a scream of your dragon's name as you orgasm hard on his cock.

The feeling seems to be too much for Kai as he begins unloading his cum inside of you. He doesn’t move either of you as the orgasms continue, just lets you both ride out the waves of pleasure.

He comes to his sense first and looks at your fucked out body, still sitting halfway on his cock. His cum seems to be too much for your small body and it still manages to pour out of your pussy despite his cock still filling you up. His cum adds a whole new level of lubricant and he decides to loosen his grip to let gravity do the work for him.

You begin to slide down, groaning as you do but you stop after another inch or two with a whimper. He groans as he feels his cock come to a halt as it presses against your cervix. Knowing your body will adjust for him, he grabs your waist once more and starts to move your hips in small circles, grinding the tip of his cock into the opening of your cervix.

Your pant at the intense sensation and cry out in a mix of pleasure and discomfort as the head of his cock bullies its way through your cervix. Kai loosens his grip on your waist again and he watches you slowly slide down his dick until your swollen pussy lips are touching the scales at the base of his cock.

He gives you only a moment to adjust before he picks you up about half way off his cock and lets you go. You drop back down with a scream and he grins, his sharp teeth on full display. He continues to repeat the action quickly becoming obsessed with the sensations of your pussy around his cock.

You are in a world of ultimate pleasure. His cock has you so stretched out it is like every nerve in your cunt is exposed to his thrusts. Your g-spot is being caressed on every stroke upwards and every drop back down onto his cock.

“ you look so fucking perfect taking my cock. Look down at your stomach baby. Do you see that? You can see my cock buried inside of you from the outside. Fuck so perfect baby. I’m going to flood your womb with my cum. Fill you up until there’s no doubt that you carry our dragons”. He continues to groan at the sight. Your belly is fully distended from his cock in your womb. You can even see the ridges that decorate his cock and the sight only makes you hotter.

Your back arches as you cum on his cock once again as his thrusts never stop. Your pussy squeezes and massages his cock as you scream in ecstasy. He speeds up his thrust and you just keep cumming. One orgasm ends as another one begins and he continues to use your overworked cunt for his pleasure.

You feel your tits bounce with each thrust and you reach up to grab them, needing something to hold onto as you seem to lose your mind. Your voice is already getting raw and scratchy from your screaming and moaning. Kai seems to have no intention to give you a break until he gets his own pleasure.

He shifts your body slightly and the small change in angle changes everything. He hits your g-spot directly with each thrust now and you can feel your body tense up. The feeling is overwhelming and your clit feels like it is about to burst. Kai brings one claw down and carefully strokes your swollen clit. Your pussy lips are stretched so far around the girth of his cock, your poor clit is completely exposed and at his mercy.

Your back arches and you let out a scream and your entire body tenses then releases. Your juices shoot from your pussy with force as your gush all over his cock. Your cunt spasms and grips his cock as if it was trying to trap him inside you forever.

It becomes too much for Kai and he lets out a ferocious roar and his cock begins filling you up. He keeps himself buried inside you completely as he shoots rope after rope of his thick and hot seed inside you. Your stomach bulges out from the pressure, distending past what should be possible.

He keeps cumming and the pressure becomes too much. His warm cum begins spurting out of your pussy despite his cock still keeping you plugged up, your womb and cunt already stretched to their limits. You cum again with tears streaming down your face as he gives your clit a firm pinch between his claws.

Kai finally relents and you rest on his lower stomach as you both catch your breath. You are covered in sweat and your lower half is completely covered in his thick cum. You whimper from overstimulation as he pulls you off his cock. He sits you up on his stomach, you back leaning against his cock.

You hear him let out a noise between a moan and a growl as his cock twitches against your back. You follow his eyes to see what he is looking at and gasp as your eyes meet your abdomen. Your womb is so full of his cum that your belly is swollen. It looks as if you are already four months pregnant. Your pussy clenches causing some more cum to pour out. Your dragon doesn’t seem to like that as he grabs you and pushes your lower half harder against his scales, trying to keep the remaining cum trapped inside you.

You move to lay against him again, snuggling into his warmth. You already feel yourself drifting off from pure exhaustion when you hear him say, “Sleep my perfect Mate. Perhaps in a few days we will see if the potion changed all your holes to be able to take me”.

Let me know what you think 🖤💕❤️❤️🖤

[cattordi]

a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P

summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone

pairings felix catton x american!reader

warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI

chips or crisps?

“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.

england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.

one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.

“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m

you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.

“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.

“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.

he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.

you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.

just the way you liked it.

you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.

times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.

“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.

the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”

“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”

“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.

“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.

the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.

“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”

you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.

newsflash: he doesn’t.

“y/n?” he says.

“what could you want now felix?”

“talk to me, love.”

“don’t call me that.. and no.”

“you just spoke to me.”

you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.

“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.

the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.

you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”

“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”

“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”

“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.

after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”

you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”

you still don’t answer.

“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.

“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.

“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”

“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.

“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”

if only he knew how true that statement was.

you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”

“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”

you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”

you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”

after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”

“yes.”

“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”

with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.

after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”

“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.

“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.

those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.

slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”

you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.

“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.

as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”

felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”

his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.

“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”

you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”

you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.

“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.

your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.

“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”

the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.

“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”

he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.

you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.

“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”

his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”

“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.

doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.

“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.

his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“

a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”

“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.

you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”

“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”

“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,

he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.

“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.

“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”

you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s

“good. do you want to cum?”

“yes, yes please.”

“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.

“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”

“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.

“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.

his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”

this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”

at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.

he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”

he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.

the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.

“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.

you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”

you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”

slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”

felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”

smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”

“hm?”

“chips or crisps?”

[simpjaes]

HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 

 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Jake, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 

 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

[cherryredstars]

Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!

I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(

Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?

Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff

Summary: He helps you, you help him.

A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!

Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)

This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.

Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 

You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 

“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”

“Is there a problem here?”

His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.

Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 

Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 

You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 

“Keys are in my pants pocket.”

You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 

At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  

His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”

The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 

“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 

Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 

“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”

Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 

He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 

“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 

Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 

“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 

He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 

You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 

Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 

His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 

“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”

You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 

It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 

He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 

You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.

You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

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[freedomfireflies]

The Playboy*

Summary: The one where you're a Playboy Bunny and Harry is Hugh's assistant. The one person you aren't allowed to love.

Word Count: 8.9k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionsim, multiple orgasms, brief choking, overstimulation

Harry's cum is dripping down your thigh.

You can see it, glistening beneath the sunlight, making it almost impossible to look away. You’re completely and utterly mesmerized by the sight of it, but Harry pretends as though he has no clue.

After all, he has to pretend. You know he’s done this on purpose. Know that he wanted to mark you right before your photoshoot with Hugh and the other Bunnies. He's sending a message, making a statement.

And really, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry fucked you right and you both know it. And he can pretend all he wants that it means nothing, but you’re the best lover he’s ever had. He told you himself. And perhaps that’s why he’s done this. Why he insisted that you weren’t allowed to wipe it off or hide it. Because he wants them to see. To know who you really belong to.

No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together or attempt to brush the sticky stain away, it remains. And Harry’s proud smirk is rather obvious even from over on the grass where he observes. 

You try not to look at him. To acknowledge that sadistic glee as you keep your gaze on the camera. Because if you look at him…it’s over. You won’t be able to hide your infatuation and the last thing either of you want is for Hugh to find out.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice. Then again, he has too many people around him at once to pay attention to you and your wet thighs. But you know he’d be furious if he knew what his precious Bunny was doing, one of the many reasons you and Harry are forced to keep your meetings a secret.

But you know Harry likes being your secret. Perhaps just as much as you like being his. Besides, it’s only sex. No strings attached. He’s Hugh’s assistant and you’re one of the beloved Bunnies. It’s against every rule in the book for the two of you to be together, much less sleep together.

Yet here you are.

You sometimes wonder if Harry would even give you the time of day outside of your secret rendezvous. Or if he’d avoid you altogether. You want to believe it goes deeper than just sex, but truth be told, you’re too afraid to ask.

"Your lemonade, Sir."

You watch as Harry nods his thanks and takes the cold glass from the waiter. He’s far too smug for your liking, and you’d chastise him if it were any other moment.

Still, you watch him take a rather long sip as his eyes follow you from behind those dark sunglasses.

He knows you like to be watched. That you thrive off his attention. So, he gives it to you anytime he can. Even when you’re sitting on the lap of the man that employs him.

But you like to watch him, too. And the way he looks right now, with those dark curls pushed back, now slightly disheveled from when you had your hands running through them, is rather delicious.

He leans back in his seat, strong thighs spreading as he takes another sip. It’s almost criminal, and you can practically hear the sighs of the other girls as they notice, too.

He pops the first couple buttons of his shirt free, allowing for a glimpse of his tan, sweaty skin, and you feel your stomach clench. He’s taunting you now. Reminding you who’s really in charge, and you’re nearly tempted to march right over and prove him wrong.

But you know he’s thinking the same thing you are. Remembering just a few moments ago when he had you bent over a chair as he fucked you from behind.

"Tell me how good I feel."

"Fuck you."

"Tell me how deep—"

"Not deep enough. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy."

The second he saw you in your signature bowtie, he snatched your hand and dragged you away. And you let him, because how could you not? Even if it meant you were late for the shoot and that you’d earn a very firm frown from Hugh. It was worth it, and the evidence has been painted all over your leg.

Suddenly struck with inspiration, you give a big beam to the camera before you subtly drop your hand to your thigh and swipe your finger through the mess.

You notice Harry’s eyes widen as he straightens up, wildly intrigued. But you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking, instead keeping your eyes on the lens as suck your middle finger into your mouth.

Harry knows what coats that finger and you let your lashes flutter as though to tell him how much you enjoy the taste.

Hugh laughs, thinking it's just a clever pose for the photos, but Harry knows this show is just for him and him alone.

He slides his sunglasses a bit further down his nose, eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store.

Yet your eyes never leave the camera, your smile wide, and your glee unmeasurable. You enjoy teasing him when you know he can’t do anything about it. 

And it works, if the way he begins to shift in his seat is any indication. You can practically see his erection from here, and you have to swallow a laugh as he clenches his jaw.

Finally, you decide to put him out of his misery, and steal one glance for yourself.

The moment your eyes meet, your chest nearly caves in. The tension is thick, and it feels as though the whole world has gone quiet. It’s just you and Harry, and when he bites his lip and leans back in his seat, you about lose it.

Thankfully, almost as though heaven heard your silent plea, Hugh suddenly claps his hands together and declares the shoot through. He thanks you all for your patience and time before everyone begins to part and the camera crew packs up.

You’re off his lap in seconds, moving for the refreshments so you can grab a glass of lemonade for yourself. And hopefully encourage Harry’s attention to follow you.

You feel him behind you before you even have a chance to turn around. You recognize his cologne and the soft hum in his throat and you bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning.

“Bunny,” he murmurs, and even though it’s only been a few minutes, you’ve missed the sound of his voice. Low and raspy with just a hint of an accent.

“Harold,” you return, tossing a quick look over your shoulder before moving across the yard.

However, he’s hot on your tail, giving you absolutely no room or personal space. “That was quite a show,” he says, jogging around you to catch your eye.

You only bat your lashes as you take a sip of your drink, watching as his attention zeroes in on the way your lips wrap around the straw. 

He smirks.

“Enjoyed yourself, did you?” you retort innocently, attempting to brush past him again when he suddenly grabs onto your upper arm and drags you back to him.

He dips down, mouth ghosting the side of your ear as he murmurs, “I believe you owe me a taste.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is that so?”

“It is.” His grip tightens. “And you know it.”

You take a quick glance around the backyard just to make sure Hugh isn’t watching before you pull yourself free and turn to Harry. “Who said you deserve to taste me?”

 “I believe you did. When you were coming around my cock and begging me to do it again.”

You scoff, feigning annoyance as you attempt to walk away. However, Harry is much quicker, and he snatches hold of your wrist in order to drag you across the grass and toward the pool shed in the corner of the yard.

Thankfully nobody seems to notice, and you feel your cunt throb as he gently slams you against the wall, away from any prying eyes. And he cages you there, arms on either side of your head as you bite your lip and peer up at him. 

“You’ve been quite the brat, haven’t you, little one?” he nearly purrs, wedging his knee between your clenched thighs. “Trying to tease me…embarrass me. Get me in trouble.”

You blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” He squeezes your chin. “Show me your tongue.”

Slowly, you concede. Parting your lips and extending your tongue as he tilts your head back and stares down your throat. 

“Good girl. Swallowed every drop, didn’t you?”

You nod.

“S’it feel good in your tummy, baby? Hm? Did it taste as good as you imagined?”

Another nod. Quicker and more excited.

He smiles. “Then I think it’s only fair you return the favor, hm?”

You aren’t afforded the chance to answer before he’s dropping to his knees and prying your legs apart.

“Harry—”

“Shh. I’m busy,” he murmurs, flicking the button on your costume undone until he can reach your stockings and tear them down. “S’been too long.”

“It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Exactly.”

He runs his hands along your body, enjoying the way you shiver, that wicked grin is enough to ruin you. He places your foot on his shoulder while you steady yourself against the shed, your fingers already returning to his hair.

And he watches you. So desperate and eager to please. You know he’d bury himself in your cunt with no hesitation if he could, but for now…this is all you get.

It’s one of the things you adore most about him. His need to please you, even despite his ego. In fact, from the moment you met him, he’s put your pleasure first. Demanding that you sit on his face nearly every hour of the day just so he can get a small taste. Savor you on his tongue, go home with you still smeared across his chin.

Some people do drugs. Harry does pussy.

His hands slowly smooth up your leg, taking his time to appreciate your skin while admiring the way it glistens underneath the summer sun. He begins to kiss his way along your ankle and up toward your knee. 

And you work to bite back a heavy sigh. You don’t tend to trip up too often, but when it comes to Harry, you find that you can never stay quiet. And you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because he knows how to draw out every possible noise and sensation. Somehow, even his kisses leave you whining. 

Either way, you know you can’t make a noise today. Because no matter how loud the group out by the pool are, it’s not nearly loud enough to drown out your pleasured whines.

And he knows it, too.

He pauses his kisses once he reaches your inner thigh and glances up through those thick lashes of his. "You think you can stay quiet, little one?" he asks, lips brushing against your skin with every word.

You force a smile. “Do it right and we’ll see.”

It’s a challenge he’s more than eager to accept. He’s been waiting far too long to get a taste of what he left behind and wastes no more time in dragging his flattened tongue along your leg to collect the salty remnants from before.

The feeling itself isn't much but watching him...you can feel your knees growing weak. Harry knows what you like to see. Knows you adore his pink lips and the rings on his fingers. Knows you like to run your hands through his gelled hair and leave your lipstick on his shirt. 

He hums, rather satisfied with himself. But before he can truly have you, you both catch the sound of commotion happening near the mansion.

You have a rather hard time tearing yourself away, but you know that if you don’t check, Hugh will coming looking for you.

So, regretfully, you drop your leg from Harry’s shoulder and peer around the shed.

Hugh is standing on one of the staircases, pipe in his mouth as he claps his hands to get everyone's attention. "All right, my dears, gather 'round. You've all been doing such good work this week, and I felt it was only right to honor you. So, for the first Saturday of the summer, I've decided we must celebrate.”

The other girls cheer as you toss Harry a curious look. 

He only shrugs.

"You know the rules," Hefner continues. "But I want you to have fun and just relax tonight. The real work starts next week.”

With that, he gives his adoring audience a wink before heading back inside, leaving you to sigh to yourself.

Hugh is a stickler for rules and regulations. Curfews, no outside relationships, and absolutely no visitors. He wants to keep his girls to himself, and you know that applies to you more than anyone else.

Harry is watching you closely as you finally turn back around. “He wants me there tonight,” he tells you.

You nod. You expected nothing less. “I imagine so.”

“We won’t have as much time.”

“I know.” You readjust your outfit and attempt to wipe the lustful look from your face. “I should go.”

You get ready to slip back out into the open before Harry grabs your arm for a third time.

"I'll find you," he murmurs, more so a promise than a threat. "And I will get my taste."

You can’t help but smirk as you pat his cheek lightly.  “Mm. Good luck, Playboy."

There are very few times in life when you find yourself completely and utterly breathless. Transfixed beyond doubt, mesmerized by one singular moment in time when you can't move or speak.

For you, that happened when you saw Harry enter the room for the very first time.

And then it happened again…when he slid inside you later that same night.

Two moments, one man.

One incredibly ethereal, divine, godlike man. 

You hadn't expected Hugh's party to be all that exciting, but it was one of Harry’s first parties as Hugh’s assistant. Turns out…that meant something.

You had specific instructions to stay close to Hugh throughout the evening, as his favorite Bunny, and Harry had instructions to stay close as the assistant. But unlike you, Harry was instructed to follow from behind. Not to interact with any of the guests. And definitely not to be seen or heard.

But from the moment he entered the room, you knew it would be nearly impossible for anyone to keep their eyes off him.

He walked in as though surrounded by light, drawing everyone’s attention to those dark curls and that charming smile.

You couldn’t look away, so spellbound by his presence that you didn’t even realize Hugh was right beside him.

Instantly, you knew that would complicate things.

Still, you liked the challenge. And as it turned out, Harry did, too. Because while you were busy seeing him, he was busy seeing you.

Your eyes met through the crowd, even despite the many bodies and loud music. You felt yourself being drawn closer as you pushed your way toward the center of the room in a desperate attempt just to be close.

Harry did the same.

You wondered if Hugh knew what a threat Harry posed to his brand. After all, Hugh loved being the center of attention and Harry was so effortlessly stealing the attention for himself.

But it didn’t matter in that moment because Harry’s attention was yours, and once you both found your way to the center of the living room…everything changed. 

You did your best to study him. Those gorgeous, textured curls. The unusual shade of green in his eye. That strong jaw that seemed to accentuate his sharp but handsome features.

He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged each of his muscles in a way that left little to the imagination. He looked clean. Put together. So refined that all you wanted to do was trail your hands down his chiseled chest before you tore is shirt off.

And that’s when it happened.

The Moment.

Ever since that night, the two of you have been inseparable. Fucking any chance you get. In the kitchen, in the car, in the closet. His hand over your mouth, forcing you to stay silent in case Hugh might be somewhere in the mansion—which he always is.

In fact, there’s never a moment when you aren't the focus of each other's attention. Day or night, all you can think about is when you’ll see him next. Creating moments to run into each other. Planning meetings. Making excuses to find time alone.

And as it turns out, tonight is no different.

You know Hugh will be around. And even worse, he’ll be making his favorite Bunny the center of attention.

Which just means you’ll have to try a little harder to get Harry alone. 

Most of the crowd will be desperate to talk to you. They always are, after all. They’ll follow you around, ask you questions, want to be in your presence. 

And Harry will be somewhere hidden, keeping to himself so he’s neither seen nor heard. Although the rest of the Bunnies make that quite difficult.

For some reason, Hugh doesn’t mind if the others pay Harry a bit of attention. He only seems to mind if you do. And even though Harry will never admit it, Hugh’s possession over you makes him quite jealous.

He doesn’t enjoy the idea of having to share you, much less with a whole crowd of people and greedy men. They’ll take up all of your time. Time that should be reserved for him. 

Truth be told, you find it rather cute.

So, you try to make it worth it. You sway your hips to a song just because he’s watching. 

You run your hands down your body, smoothing them over each and every one of his favorite curves. 

You dangle a cherry over your tongue before taking it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing as you suck the sweet fruit into your mouth.

It drives him absolutely mad, and you can already see him fighting the temptation to stride over to you right now.

You’re sitting by the pool, legs dangling over the side as you chat with Paul Newman. He’s leaning his body closer and closer toward yours, inviting himself into your space as you laugh and throw your head back with glee just to give Harry a proper show.

You do your best to flirt with the handsome man—which isn’t all that difficult, really—before you notice Harry march himself over to the drink stand. 

Instantly, he begins chatting up Sophia Loren. One of the most stunning women you think you’ve ever seen and immediately, your eyes narrow.

So that’s how he wants to play it.

He’s not subtle about the way he stares at her, raking his eyes up and down her figure rather shamelessly. And she smiles, eating up his attention until you nearly chip a tooth from how hard you’re gritting your teeth.

It’s rather cute, all things considered. He’s really trying to make you jealous. But why should you be? Paul Newman is every bit as handsome, if not more, and happens to be someone you can actually sit and have a conversation with.

In fact, Hugh was the one who set it up. He introduced the two of you and insisted you get to know each other.

You knew what he really wanted from the interaction, but neither you nor Paul will be entertaining such an idea. After all, he is happily married. And you just enjoy getting to know him.

Paul is still chatting away as you both swing you legs through the warm water, and even though you can’t help feeling rather starstruck by those gorgeous blue eyes…you’re remind of a pair of green ones that are currently still checking out someone else.

So, you gently put your hand on Paul’s chest in a subtle signal for him to wind his story down. You tell him that you’re going to go grab a drink and he nods before helping you stand from the pool.

You make your way for the bar—rather aware of the number of eyes on you as you walk—yet Harry still seems to be rather immersed in his conversation with the starlet. And now you aren’t sure if this really is just for show or if she truly has caught his eye.

Either way, you decide a little eavesdropping can’t hurt. So, you subtly make your way around the pool and toward the back of the drink station, just out of sight. Close enough to hear, but not so close as to be seen.

“Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” Harry is asking, and you catch just a glimpse of those dimples.

Sophia hums, looking around the large backyard that seems to sparkle underneath such a dark sky. "Oh, yes. Hugh always throws the best parties."

"He does. Are you here with someone?"

You suck in a quiet breath while Sophia laughs, shaking out her perfectly styled curls. “No, not at all. I like to…come alone. Window shop.”

“Window shop?” Harry repeats with a smirk.

“Yes. I like to see what’s to be seen. To decide if I’ll be leaving alone as well.”

Harry chuckles, and the sound of it makes your stomach flutter. “I see. Well, I have to admit, that does sound like an excellent plan.”

Sophia studies him. “And…you? Will you be leaving alone?”

Harry runs his tongue over his lip before glancing toward the spot near the pool where you once were. But once he notices you’re missing, his eyebrow raises. “I hope not.”

She smiles. “Come,” she says, taking his hand. “We dance.”

With that, she leads him toward the middle of the yard where a few people are already swaying to the music.

You watch them dance with a rather wounded expression, doing your best to remind yourself what this really is.

You don’t imagine Sophia will be taking him home tonight—he’s handsome, but she’s far out of his league—yet you can’t help that spark of jealousy that finally burns in your chest.

What Harry lacks in brains he makes up for in charisma. And he looks rather breathtaking out there, moving his hips to the melody and grabbing at her waist while she laughs and swings her arms around his neck.

For a moment, you almost wish that you could dance with him like that. So open and uninhibited. But you know that this arrangement only lasts for the summer. Once fall comes, the two of you will part ways, and the fun will be through.

Eventually, the two of them return to the bar for more drinks, and you’re forced to scurry back out of sight just in time to ear the rest of their conversation.

"She is...stunning,” Sophia says as they approach.

Harry’s head tilts. “Who?”

“The woman you keep looking for.”

Harry grins as he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hm.” She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him. “One cannot win a game if the other player doesn’t know they are playing.”

"Maybe. But I’m not playing any games.”

She scoffs. “Aren’t you? Talking to me but wanting her?”

Harry seems rather surprised by this, and you feel yourself grin as you finally breeze your way around the corner in full view of them both.

“A scotch, please, darling,” you call to the bartender before glancing to your left. “Oh! Hi, Sophia. Harold.”

Sophia laughs. “Hello, dear. Fantastic party. You look beautiful.”

“As do you,” you return. “So happy you made it, despite your current choice in companion.”

Harry’s eyes roll.

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” she says, reaching up to wipe her thumb across his bottom lip. “Rather…sweet.”

Harry feigns a smug smirk even though you can tell he’s rather surprised by the action. 

Still, you refuse to play along. “I suppose he can be when Hugh isn’t around.”

She chuckles to herself before offering you a quick kiss to the cheek before bidding the two of you goodbye so she can make the rounds. 

 Rather satisfied, you give Harry a proud look of your own before grabbing your drink and turning on your heel.

But, true to form, he’s chasing after you and taking a handful of your hip in order to bring you to a stop.

“Bunny,” he warns beneath a raspy breath. “I thought I made myself clear—”

“I don’t know what you mean, I was only chatting,” you retort, pulling yourself from his hand with a huff. 

“No, you were not. You were being a brat and I’d like you to stop.”

“Stop what? Being delightful?”

“No. Stop toying with me.” He regards you carefully. “I know what you’re doing.”

"I'm talking. After all, that is my job—"

"No, your job is to be a good little Bunny, and do as you're told," he argues, straightening up so he has the advantage of height. "And I’m telling you that I will not play these games with you any longer.”

“What games?”

“The game where you try to rub my nose in that,” he says, gesturing angrily toward Paul.

“It’s not a game. He’s quite delightful. And I don’t believe I’m quite through with him yet—”

“Enough,” he seethes, suddenly yanking you back to him. “You know you don't want to talk to him. Or entertain his sad attempts at flirting. So, give it up, and come with me—"

"Beg me."

He leans back. “Excuse me?”

“Beg me,” you repeat calmly, even though your pussy is just about throbbing from the possessive tone of voice. 

His head cocks. “I said end this—"

"Beg me, and maybe I will.”

He looks at you for another moment more before his eyes flick toward the mansion in search of Hugh. Having this conversation in such an open space is rather reckless, especially with so many witnesses. But you just can’t help it. He never seems to listen.

Harry knows his time is running out, as well as his patience, so he runs a hand through his hair and releases a strained exhale. 

“Fine,” he concedes darkly. “Fine. Please…end this. And come with me.”

You bite back a smile. "Hm... I don't know, Paul and I were just having such a good time—"

"Please," he repeats, almost viciously. "Fucking end this. Now.”

By now, you know exactly what Harry's last straw looks like. What it sounds like. His voice, twisted with need and lust, becomes hoarser the closer he creeps to desperation. His grip becomes tighter, and his pupils nearly blow-out with desperation.

It happens when he's fucking into you so hard that you see stars. When his tongue is so far inside you that neither of you can breathe. And when you’re taking him so well down your throat that you think you’ll sink right through the floor.

It's the same voice. The same urgency. And you can’t help but feel a little intrigued.

You nod. “Fine.”

"Good. Meet me in the coat closet," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "Five minutes."

"Harry—"

“Go,” he repeats, before releasing you so he can slip inside the mansion. 

You don’t need to be told twice. You immediately make your way for the door, weaving your way through the crowd in search of that familiar closet.

The inside of the house is packed with people. It’s loud and chaotic and there are more celebrities here than you can name.

But right now, you couldn’t care less. There’s only one person on your mind. One beautiful body that you can’t wait to run your hands down and it’s only five minutes away.

Once you’ve hidden yourself away in the small, dark space, you imagine all the things he might do. One of his favorites is watching the way he disappears inside you. The way your pussy stretches open to take his cock until you’re both a rather wet mess. You don’t doubt that he’ll find a way to do so tonight, and the thought makes you giddy.

Or perhaps he’ll blindfold you. Cut off all your senses until he’s all you know. Maybe you’ll blindfold him, another favorite. 

Truthfully, it doesn’t really matter what he does as long as he does it. Because even the thought leaves you breathless.

The door swings open exactly two minutes later. Harry is quick to lock you both in and turn on the light, twisting the bulb between his fingers until you can see everything you couldn’t before. Mostly coats and hats, but then…him. Somehow just as stunning as he was a few minutes ago, and smiling in a way that makes you want to drag him to his knees.

“You obeyed,” he whispers, stepping up to you until he can softly run his palm along your cheek. “You are a good little bunny after all, aren’t you?”

You pull your lip between your teeth. “Only when I think you deserve it.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

He leans closer, nose brushing against yours. “And do I still deserve that taste?”

Your lashes flutter before you forcefully push him away and point to his belt. “Take off your pants.”

You don’t want to have to rush, but you know Hugh will be looking for you soon so you can be by his side for his grand speech. Which means you’ll have to save the sensual looks and teasing touches for another day.

He starts with his shirt instead of his pants (just to spite you), grabbing at his collar before slipping the fabric over his head. Then he reaches for his zipper and drags it down, as slowly as he can all while keeping his eyes on yours.

With a rather unamused huff, you finally swat his hands out of the way in order to do it yourself. 

You yank the dark material down his legs, taking note of the boxers around his hips that practically call to you. You allow your fingers to slowly trail along his thighs. Higher and higher, groping at the strong flesh as he sighs and watches you with flushed cheeks.

Finally, you move for the band at his waist, pulling on it until it snaps back against his stomach, making him grunt.

He drops his head back with a curse, but once you start to drag your tongue along his abs…it’s game over. 

His hand is instantly in your hair, tugging at the scalp as though to remind you who’s really in charge. But you can feel his muscles quivering beneath your tongue and you hum when you hear him exhale your name.

You reach his pecs, taking a moment to brush your lips over his hardened nipple. He doesn’t seem to understand why this feels so good, but he enjoys it, and he certainly enjoys watching you do it, too.

You never leave him unsatisfied. You don’t think you could even if you tried. Sometimes, all you have to do is kiss him, and he’s nearly coming in his shorts as he grinds you against his lap. 

He knows his pleasure isn’t nearly as important as yours, but he enjoys the time you dedicate to him, nonetheless. 

You graze the nipple with your teeth, pulling it ever so slightly until he hisses, head dipping as your foreheads meet.

He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before he’s pulling you up and kissing you hard. He starts with his tongue, exploring your mouth like it’s the first time, and honestly…it almost feels like it is.

Teeth clash, noses brush, breaths are stolen. You devour each other, greedy hands roaming freely, tangling in each other's hair.

"Can’t fucking stand you," he nearly groans against your mouth, his hips knocking into yours as he keeps you trapped against his chest. "Teasing me all night. Playing with me."

"You love it," you pant. "Love it when I play with you."

He grins. “Maybe I do.”

His hand moves to your one-piece until he finds the apex of your thighs. He smooths his palm along your cunt, cupping you harshly as you reel. He wants to feel how warm you are—how wet and desperate.

And you want him to feel it, too.

You swallow a needy sigh, almost as though you can’t let him hear. He can’t know how good this really feels. How depraved you really are of his touch. How starved.

But he knows. You know he knows, even through one little kiss.

It’s maddening.

He grabs onto the corset, ready to rip it down and reveal your chest to his hungry eyes, but you quickly snatch his wrist.

“No,” you exhale, shaking your head slightly. “Can’t rip it. Gentle.”

He scoffs, almost as though the thought of being gentle with you is absurd. Still, he knows Hugh would notice if your outfit has been torn, so he obeys, and unzips you instead.

The suit falls away, finally allowing him a good look at what you’ve been hiding from him all night.

Instantly, he’s got your tits in his hands, pulling at the tender flesh with a lewd grunt.

“Pretty,” he murmurs before sucking one into his mouth. “Fucking killing me, Bunny.”

Like a starved wolf, he starts to leave a trail of kisses wherever he can. Sloppy kisses that make you shiver as you fist his curls and laugh at the feel of your nipple between his teeth.

He swirls his tongue just the way you did, then flicks it gently while you sigh in his ear. Eventually, his fingers make their way to their previous spot, brushing at your inner thighs as though to warn you. And you’re given only a few seconds to prepare before he’s slipping the middle one inside and making you gasp.

The noise is covered by the loud music outside of the door, but Harry still hears it, and he beams as he starts to pump you slowly.

Your body invites him in the way it always does, squeezing him gently and clenching as though to keep him close. 

“Shit,” he curses, once again pressing his mouth to yours. “Missed this pretty pussy, baby.”

His large digit suddenly curls upward, motioning a moan from your lips and there it is. That’s what you needed.

You hold onto him for dear life, already lost in the feel. He's always been rather exceptional at touching you. At knowing your body better than anyone else does.

You’ve tried to replicate his actions on yourself, tried to make yourself cum as hard as he makes you when he’s the one doing it. But it's never the same. It feels like a waste of time to even try. It'll be weak and short. Pitiful. And trying again never works because it's just as disappointing as the first time.

But Harry…with his long fingers, his firm hand, his ravenous lips. Nothing will ever compare.

"Feel so good, sweetheart," he praises, lips staining your skin as he kisses the hollow of your neck. "Good girl. Lift for me, yeah?"

You obey, offering him your leg which he's quick to hook around his waist, spreading your open a bit further so he can slide himself deeper inside.

Another finger, another curl, another pinch. His thumb presses into your clit, circling it rapidly, making you whine into his shoulder. You can feel the coil already ready to snap, hardly surprised by how quickly you got here, but you know he’ll make sure to drag it on for as long as possible.

And as if to prove this, he slips his fingers out, and raises them to his lips. You nearly wilt right then and there, but you manage to hold your impatient façade as you cock your eyebrow upward before yanking his hand out and kissing him.

You can taste yourself on his lips, something you always seem to enjoy. The mix of you both together. 

And this is when he decides to ruin you, plunging his fingers back in with vigor until he hits that perfect spot. The one that has you gasping for air and moaning his name.

Your chest heaves with deep breaths. You’re close and you know it won’t be long until your cunt is fluttering around his hand and you’re dripping down his wrist. But you need more than that. Especially because this is the last time you’ll be with him for a while.

So, you grab onto his jaw and forcefully bring his eyes to yours.

“No,” you hiss. “Not like this. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy.”

He hums, all without slowing his rhythm. “Impatient, little one?”

“Obviously.”

He makes an amused noise, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts. He plans to make you cum just like this before he fucks you and you don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.

You move your hand to his throat, squeezing the sides gently as you feel him swallow. His pulse is pounding beneath your fingertips, blown-out pupils glued to yours as you add just the slightest bit of pressure.

His soft inhale makes your stomach flutter. You happen to adore him like this, on the verge of complete submission. Merciless at your feet.

But you know it won’t last long. And once his eyelids begin to flutter, you yank him down for another kiss. Stealing the only breath he has left.

You can practically feel his cock twitching against your thigh as you tug his curls and suck on his tongue. But he’s not one to be outdone, and he continues rubbing your clit as quickly as he can, sweeping his fingers in a circle while you roll your hips against his hand.

"Gentle, sweetheart," he warns, throwing your own instruction back at you. 

You want to retort with a quippy remark of your own but choose instead to lick a stripe along his jaw. That suffices as your reply.

You don't have a lot of time, at least not for games. You’re playing against the clock, and you know Hugh will be calling for you any second.

Any other night, Harry would most likely edge you all the way to the brink. But tonight, he knows better, and he does everything he can to make you cum.

And when you do, you nearly lose your balance. It’s one of the most blinding and toe-curling orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. So much better than when you do it alone and you’re so grateful for his cocky attitude for the first time all summer.

Your body melts into his as you start to come down from your high. You almost wish it would never end. The way his lips feel on your cheek. The sound of his soft, proud praises in your ear. It’s everything.

But you know that’s not what he’s good for. So, instead, you push him away and step back. “Down.”

He looks at you. “Down?”

You nod toward the floor. “You wanted a taste. So take a taste, sweetheart.”

He crosses his arms. “Mm. Ask me nicely.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ask me nicely to eat you out and maybe I will.”

Your expression falls flat. “Take the goddamn taste, Harold, or I will go out there and find somebody who will.”

He’s amused, but you know he’s also nervous. He doesn’t like the idea that you’d take yourself from him, so, he clears his throat and slowly lowers to his knees.

Exactly where he belongs.

His head bows, something he doesn’t do quite that often, and your heart soars. He looks beautiful like this. Submissive and good. Everything you know he’s not. 

You brush your fingers through the curls draping across his forehead and he seems to settle into your touch before you’re hooking your finger under his chin and lifting his head.

Your eyes meet, a look of utter reverence written across his face as he gazes at you with awe and respect. And your stomach nearly twists as you whisper, “You know what to do.”

And he does. His mouth turns up in a gentle smile as he slowly reaches for your ankle. He resumes his earlier position, the bottom of your heel on top of his shoulder for access, and his other hand reaching to grab your hip and pull you towards his face.

You immediately bite your lip, anticipating the noises that are about to follow. 

Similar to this afternoon, he starts gentle, pressing kisses into your thighs ever so slowly. You know you’re soaking him. Can hear it and see it, even in the dim closet light.

He drags his tongue up your leg, collecting every drop that’s at his disposal, while you continue pushing back his hair so you can see him clearly. 

Finally, he reaches your swollen clit, still sensitive from his last assault, before he’s eagerly tracing it with the tip of his tongue.

You writhe in his hands, head turning to the side as you open your mouth to exhale a curse. And this seems to feed his ego because he repeats the action again, nose pressing into your hip as he inhales you like you’re fresh air on a spring day. Like you’re the only thing he wants in his lungs—the only breath he wants to take.

You pull his head closer as though to encourage him, and your name falls from his lips like rain.

“My sweet Bunny,” he nearly groans. “Can never get enough of you.”

“Good,” is all you can say. “We don’t have a lot of time, though. You need to be quick.”

“Who says I’m through? You owe me, sweetheart.”

You give his curls a sharp yank. “No. Get up and fuck me.”

He pouts, feigning a tantrum, but you know his cock is throbbing rather pitifully for you. So, he obliges, standing to his feet while you gather yourself in wait.

He tugs down his boxers, the only fabric left between you, and you try not to stare as you grab onto his shoulders and prepare to sink down.

“Five minutes,” you instruct softly. “Make it count.”

However, before you can feel that glorious tip pushing its way through, he’s suddenly grabbing onto your hips and spinning you around. Shoving you against the coat closet wall as you gasp.

Instantly, his hand comes up to slap against your lips. “Hush now," he hisses against your ear. "Unless you want Hugh to know what I'm really doing to his pretty girl?"

You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t feel his hips knocking into yours, giving you just a taste of what’s to come. Instead, you glance over your shoulder in an attempt to see him, and nod once.

But this isn’t good enough. So, he reaches for the bowtie around your neck, pulling on it until it snaps off into his hand. He holds it as though it were a prize he won in battle before he’s slipping it over your head and into your mouth.

You take it between your teeth and bite down obediently.

“Good,” he hums, giving your ass a quick spank. The sound echoes between the small walls. “That’s much better, hm?”

You feel him drag his cock through your dripping folds while his other hand ghosts down the curve of your spine. He’s gentle with you, despite his cruel taunting, and you’re almost impressed. Infatuated, even.

His warm body feels so good against yours. Luring you into a sense of security you can’t seem to find anywhere else. And you rather enjoy it as you feel the thickness of him starting to stretch you open.

You moan around the tie while Harry grunts in your ear. Just like the first time the two of you found yourselves in this position. 

And exactly like every other time before, he doesn’t rush you. He lets you feel—lets you enjoy—every inch and every second. Any other time, he’d make you beg. Beg him to go harder, go deeper. But tonight, you can’t, and it’s almost a shame he won’t get to hear it.

Instead, you offer a muffled whimper that seems to do the trick, and he chuckles to himself. “Need more, don’t you?”

You nod quickly, and he wraps his arms around your stomach in order to tug you back and guide you along his cock the way he wants.

He goes faster. His five minutes is now down to four, and he knows he’ll have to make this quicker than usual. Sharp, hard thrusts that make your legs shake and your heart race. But somehow, it’s still not enough.

“You like to play with me, don’t you, hm?” he begins to taunt. An angrier tone than before. “Make me watch you? With him?”

Your eyes nearly roll back, and you whine against the fabric on your tongue.

"Think I don't know?" he scoffs. "Think I don't know who this pussy belongs to?"

He starts to slow. A rather achingly languid pace that’s meant to make you scream, and you nearly do.

“I do,” he promises in a dark whisper. “I know exactly who you belong to.”

You arch your back and reach for his hair. Pulling his face into your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way down to your shoulder.

“So stay,” he murmurs. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to him. Don’t make me jealous, Bunny. Don’t make me watch him touch you. Please.”

Please.

A word he rarely uses, even when you instruct him to. But it sounds so beautiful between his lips, and you nearly tell him you’ll never leave him again.

But you know he doesn’t mean it. It’s just what you say in a moment like this. So, you whimper, and tug on him harder. Pretending to agree until he smiles.

The small coat room has become a sauna, your naked bodies now writhing together as the rest of the world continues on around you.

You can hear the music, the people, the party. A constant reminder that while you’ve disappeared into your own little world within this closet...the two of you will never truly be alone.

But you don’t get a chance to focus on that when his hand suddenly reaches around to take hold of your chest. Plucking your nipple between his large, rough fingertips. You brace your forehead against the wall as you push yourself into his palm. Anxious for more, which he happily gives you.

The two of you move like the tide, one fluid motion of your bodies in rhythmic harmony. He leaves your tit to focus on your clit. Forcing you closer to a second orgasm that already feels much stronger than the first.

"Here," he breathes. “Give me your hand. Want you to touch yourself for me, okay? So I can watch you.”

Your arm trembles as you move it toward your thighs, where he easily takes your fingers and places them against your pussy exactly the way his had been.

“Just like that. Good. Rub it for me, sweetheart. Yeah…there you go. Attagirl. Keep going, don’t stop.”

You feel his eyes over your shoulder as you pinch and rub the swollen nerves as your legs shake. After a moment, he grabs your thigh and lifts your knee to the wall. Giving himself a different and deeper angle as you nearly cry out around the bowtie in your mouth.

Everything feels wet. And warm. And perfect. And you know you’re moments away from coming around his cock for the second time today.

“How you doing, baby?” he chuckles when he notices the fucked-out expression on your face. “You all right?”

You nod as best you can and clench down on his cock for confirmation. And he makes a rather animalistic noise before he’s grabbing onto your tit again and groping it in his palm. 

“Good. You gonna cum for me, little one? Milk me like I know you can?”

Another nod. You can hear the party growing louder, which means it’s almost midnight. And that means Hugh’s speech will be any second now.

You’re squirming harder, unable to fight such intense pleasure as it comes from his cock and your fingertips. But he catches you, grip tightening around your thigh as he squeezes so hard, you know you’ll see bruises in the shape of his name tomorrow.

But you don’t mind. You know you’ll be able to touch them in the shower and remember this—remember him.

“Cum,” he instructs, almost viciously. “Right now, Bunny. Fucking cum. Let me feel you. Gotta feel you, honey, please.”

You roll yourself back onto his cock just to feel full while he kisses your jaw and begs you to let go. 

You’re so close you can nearly taste it. And he’s even closer than you, doing his best to hold out but you know it’s rather hard with the watch you’re squeezing him.

And when you feel him start to buck and twitch, you can’t help but smile.

He spills inside you as he bottoms out. He hates coming first, and always tries incredibly hard not to. But tonight, you can’t exactly fault him, and as it turns out, the feel of him inside you—so warm it makes your head spin—is what you need to follow.

The orgasm nearly explodes behind your eyelids as you scream into the tie, forcing Harry to slap his hand back over your mouth to silence you.

“Quiet,” he hisses, nose pressed against your cheek. “Shut up.”

Yet you don’t even try. You don’t care that you might get caught or that someone could hear. Perhaps you will once the consequences catch up to you, but right now? Right now, you moan into his hand and allow every moment of this pleasure to take control of you. 

Your sweaty bodies melt together, damp hair clinging to your skin as Harry finally lets go and steps back.

But instead of pulling his clothes back on, the sadistic man drops back down to his knees, and spins you around.

He brushes your hand away from your clit in order to do the work himself. Resuming his previous pace on your rather abused nerves until you nearly crumble to the floor.

It’s almost too much. Your eyes roll back and your head drops against the wall. You can’t stand it, yet you can’t get enough.

“One more,” is all he says before diving forward for a lick. “Just one more, baby.”

You’re too sensitive. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you watch him through the blissful haze as he closes his eyes to savor the taste.

It’s a mix of you and him, and watching him lap at you like a thirsty man desperate for a drink is sinful. He’s so good. So beautiful like this. Devoted just to you the way no other man ever has been before.

Outside, you can hear the sound of Hugh calling for everyone’s attention. Your heart leaps into your throat. He’ll be furious if you’re not there. If he has to find you. And if he finds you with Harry?

You don’t have any more time. You have to go. Right now. But you’re so close, and Harry isn’t stopping, and you just need to finish, you just need…need—

You cum for the third and final time with a rather lewd and anguished moan.

Instantly, you start to slump forward as Harry leaps to his feet in order to keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” he coos. “There you go. I’ve got you. S’okay.”

Your vision is fuzzy as you grip onto his shoulders for balance, the taste of the orgasm still bleeding along your tongue. 

But you can’t bid him goodbye just yet. So, you rip the tie from your mouth and kiss him. Drowning in the taste of him and you together. And nothing else really matters except his hands and the way they hold you close. 

“Good boy,” you exhale after you’ve pulled apart.“Knew you could do it.”

He only grins.

The two of you quickly work to redress, pulling on your clothes and shoes while Harry’s cum continues to streak down your thighs. It seems he didn’t get it all, and the realization that you’ll have to go out there with him still snug inside your cunt makes your stomach flutter.

When Harry notices your surprised expression, he winks. “Wanna make sure you’re thinking of me when you’re standing next to him.”

You scoff. But deep down, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry helps you secure the tie back around your neck, effectively covering the hickeys he so generously left for you to find later. And you make sure to brush back his curls so they look a little more tame before swiping your thumb across his chin to collect what’s left of you.

And once you’ve finally gathered yourself, you move for the door, only stopping to give him one last glance.

“This was nice,” you tell him honestly. “Just make me a deal, okay?”

His eyebrow raises.

“Next time? Don’t wait so long.”

With that, you’re out the door. Leaving the breathless man behind. But you know it certainly isn’t the last time you’ll see him. After all, the summer is far from over.

And you’re just getting started.

HI!!! I just wanted to say that even though we have a Hugh Hefner in this story, I don't consider it to be the same one as the real one! I used his name because he's so famously associated with Playboy but I do not agree with or condone anything that he's done or how he treated people!

I am only using his name, but please imagine anyone you'd like! 💞

~ Main Masterlist

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

strictly professional

words: 500

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, model!rafe, agent/manager!reader, semi public sex

“im only doing this for you once, okay?” you clarify as you sink down to your knees.

“i can handle it myself.” rafe grunts out.

“except you haven't. i got them to delay the shoot by an hour and you still come out with a boner. if you want to be a successful- and rich- model, you can't act like this.” you take a deep breath as you bring your hands to rafes thighs. “as your agent, im going to help you because im not losing my cut from this shoot just because of your dick.”

you don't give rafe anymore time to argue and pull his pants down to his ankles, taking his underwear with them.

rafes cock springs up, the tip a pinky red that clearly gives away just how long he's been this hard, painfully hard.

you don't give yourself much time to think about it, opening your mouth and dropping your lips around rafe cock. you pause for only a moment to taste him, to flick your head against the leaky slit, before you begin to move.

you only got the photographer and brand rep to agree to an additional thirty minute delay, so you can't spend a minute too long cherishing the moment.

your head starts to rise up and down, almost robotic motions as you repeat to yourself in your head that this is strictly professional.

sure, one of the reasons you got into the model representation industry was to be around hot guys, but you do have a particular knack for management and spotting good potential stars.

you feel rafes hand in your hair, but he doesn't push you down, just an extra pressure to encourage you to keep momentum.

you spotted rafe on vacation in the outer banks, approached him instantly, probably flirted a bit too much, and then handed him your business card. you weren't sure he would reach out, but were pleasantly surprised, clearly enticed by the riches you promised would come his way from his bone structure.

you know his face and body can take him far, if only his body would cooperate. you put all your focus into sucking rafe off. 

you listen to his soft sounds, the way his breathing gets loud and almost turns into moans. you wish in that moment you could really hear him, but there's no way with the entire crew just outside of the door.

you feel the urge to gag but swallow instead, trying to keep it down as you feel rafes cock swell inside of your throat, his length somehow seeming to grow only more.

you close your eyes tightly and push your head forward until your nose nuzzles into rafes skin, throat constricting around his cock as he lets out a low curse. you feel the way his hands tighten first, gripping your hair, and then his cock releases.

you wait for the spurts to subside before pulling off, swallowing thickly and trying to avoid coughing loudly.

you look up at rafe, his blissed out face, knowing your jaw is still slackened, eyes filled with tears.

“thanks.” rafe mumbles, his words bringing you back to your senses.

you wipe your chin and stand up, placing your hands on your hips. “get your pants back on, cameron.” you scold him, voice switching back to your typical agent tone. “the photographer is waiting.”

[natriae]

part 1

honestly this could be read alone

Osamu watched as his brother angrily walked out of his restaurant. It was obvious that this wasn’t Atsumu’s standard victim pout he did to get attention. This was his ‘fuck, i just fucked something up so badly that even i know it’. Rare for Atsumu but not new. Osamu, however, is quickly distracted by your trembling body as you run to the bathroom. What the fuck did he do now?

Suna glances at Osamu as his body turns back around towards the front door. The silent interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the other boys, but they know better than to interfere. Quickly excusing himself, Osamu exits the front door to find his brother crouched on the side of the building with his head in his hands. There was one thing Osamu told his brother when he first introduced you too. You simply were just another loyal patron to his establishment, but he saw how his brother looked at you. After you had left, Osamu made it very clear that Atsumu was not to hurt you. You were a sweet girl who did not need to be left crying over his brother. He knew the kind of man Atsumu was. He wasn’t ever there for a long time. All he wanted was a good one, but the way Atsumu's eyes watched you thank Osamu for delivering your food had a look of childlike innocence that Osamu had only seen in Atsumu’s first love.

Back in the restaurant the boys had their own conversation about what was possibly happening. Not realizing how thin the walls were to the bathroom. Your sobs had quieted down and you were sure you were ready to head back out and pretend that none of this ever happened. While grabbing the handle you hear the soft talk of Sunarin’s voice, “You know I surprisingly had hope he wouldn’t fuck this one up too. I mean she really isn’t his type, but I don’t know maybe he wanted to try something new.”

“Rin knock it off, that's not nice,” Kita quickly responds, but all you can hear is the low chuckle of Suna’s laugh. What did he mean? Were you really not Atsumu’s type at all? It wouldn’t be the first time you had heard this, but hearing it from someone that Atsumu sees as a brother hurts worse. Your hand slowly reclines back to a position at your side, body falling into the same sync softly sliding down the wall. Your eyes twitch, unable to find the water to cry. It all hurts. Of course it was silly to date him.

Outside Osamu crouches down next to his brother. Atsumu doesn’t bother looking up, already sensing who was there. The younger twin waits patiently watching the lights switch from red to green down the street. It’s much quieter here than in Tokyo. Most of the city is already asleep and the streets are empty. The occasional sound of another restaurant closing up for the night is loud and clear for the two boys to hear. He watches as Atsumu’s arms fall to rest on his knees and he lifts his head so body leans back to completely rest on the wall. Osamu notices how Atsumu patiently waits for him to scold him. For him to immediately question what the hell he did. To possibly pick a fight this late in the night, but none of that comes. Life’s different now, and they both know now that some situations can’t be solved by bickering. He’s grateful his brother can read him well enough that he knows he regrets what happened without having to say it.

“I messed up ‘samu. Just like ya said I would,” Atsumu states, looking to the ground. Too ashamed to look at his brother. If there's one thing Atsumu has had to learn to control while growing up, it’s his ego, and he’s constantly being tested by the universe to see if he finally learned better. Yet here he is once again ruining something that was good for him all because he got defensive. He wasn’t thinking. Something he’s really good at. It was a cheap shot that he deeply regrets.

“I neva said ya were gonna to mess up,” Osamu sighs, watching his brother’s face for a twitch of emotion, “I wanned ta make sure ‘ou were gonna go into this for the right reasons. I’ve watched ya crash and burn far too much. I just want ya to be happy.” Osamu finishes. Calmly watching his brother he notices Atsumu's face go through several emotions.

Eventually the elder twin settles on, “what should i do ‘samu?” the look on his face resembling one of a kicked puppy. It hurts Osamu to see his brother like this. He can even remember the last time Atsumu came to him for advice, but here he is looking like a lost little boy who wants his mother.

“do what y're good at,'' Osamu lightly chuckles, “talk ta her, dude,” is all he says before he gets up and walks back into Onigiri Miya. Atsumu is left with his thoughts for a little bit longer before he gets up and watches the scene from the front window.

He leans against the wall and watches Osamu wave his arm up, motioning the small party to follow him to his apartment. He can't hear what they are saying, but based on Osamu's face he knows there's no room for anyone to question.

Walking back into the empty restaurant he slowly locks the door worrying about the inevitable. His brother's restaurant is a mess. There are streamers everywhere, some ripped from where they were taped to the wall. Plastic cups litter the tables who's chairs have been stacked away in the back to make more space. His eyes finally land on the bathroom door where you hide.

His heart feels like it's tearing itself in two. Something he hasn't felt in years, but he's older now and he won't lose you. When his grandma passed back then Atsumu covered his pain with what he thought was love. Yet it always ended the same, with his brother drinking away till he passed out. However, he was okay with losing them. It was almost a pain he wanted to feel for not grieving his grandmother like he should have. A torment he thought he deserved.

Then he met you. When he learned you've never been in a relationship, nor a situationship, he felt as though it was a gift from his ancestors. A way for him to learn that he does deserve happiness, but he never thought about the many tests it would come with. He's old enough now to stop running from his problems. You were perfect for him. He wasn't going to lose you now.

“y/n” he says quietly while knocking on the bathroom door, “y/n please open up, please” he begs. There's a small shuffling on the other side that's just enough to keep his thoughts from spiraling further. He takes a deep breath before going up to knock again. As his hand raises, he hears the door click signaling you've unlocked it.

You’ve opened the door just enough to be able to see him. Not fully exiting. “what?” you question softly. Your throat dry from the constant tears. You're careful in noticing how his face morphs into multiple emotions seemingly fighting with his brain and heart.

“please come out, will ya,” he begs once more, hand reaching out for yours. He pulls his bottom lip in as he takes a deep breath. It’s as though the man before you is made of glass - for you to see all of him, and you’ll take it. Even if it is far too late.

Finally stepping out of the bathroom Atsumu is left to see your flushed face obviously reddened by the constant wiping of tears. He swears his heart shattered further. He needs to explain, but his mouth simply won't open, so he gestures to the booth where it all began.

Your miind finally has time to recognize the pounding headache overtaking your body. Hardly allowing you to recognize that the shop is completely empty. Atsumu sits down first then you follow in suit on the opposite side. Resting your eyes for a moment you don't realize that Atsumu has already grabbed you a glass of water for your headache. You politely thank him and take a sip. Your brain and body immediately relaxing at the sign of water.

“I want to ask for you to be patient with me, but I don’t deserve it—” Atsumu starts quietly.

“‘sumu—”

“no, please let me say it all before m’ ego gets in the way,” his face slowly lifts and his eyes go searching for yours. Once they catch he immediately looks away. Not once in this relationship have you seen Atsumu so unconfident. He always walked into every situation with a level of confidence you could only wish to achieve. From day one, he took charge. Always guiding you, being there for you, and all around keeping you safe, but it was obvious sometimes it became too much for even him to keep up with. He'd break down when you weren't around and walk out with a mask.

He knew there were a lot of first for you when this relationship started, and the way he approached all of them made you feel loved. A rare feeling that made you love him all the more. He never out right showed his inner turmoil. Which is why today came as such a shock, but with the way his eyes glossed over and his hands shook you figured today might be the day he finally opens up. “I'm sorry y/n. I really really am,” he says, voice cracking towards the end. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “ I shouldn't ‘ave snapped at ya,” he lets out a sound similar to scoff, yet also laughing at himself, “ I- I've never been good at communicating my feelings very well,” this makes you laugh. No shit.

“ I know, it's obvious, but there was one thing ya should know. I made a promise to m’self, ‘samu, and even my ma. That's how ya know it's serious. From the moment I met ya… I knew ‘ou were the one. I'm not entirely sure how ta explain it, but I wanted no one but y’u, and when ya left this very restaurant. I ran ta Osamu ta ask about y’u, so ya can imagine my disappointment when he said y’u were quiet and all he knew was your order,” He smiles back at the thought, “I- I don't mean i was disappointed ya were quiet by the way,” he rushes out making you smile. You nod your head telling him to continue.

“That day while I was still tryna to understand these new feelings I eventually made a promise to m’self… Y’u were going to be mine, but I told m’self that I will make ya the happiest person on earth. Whatever it takes, and when I finally told ‘samu I was gonna ask ya out. He stared me directly in the eye and said ‘’tsumu ya break her heart i'll kill ya’ and that's when I knew for sure y’u were a gift ta me.” Atsumu’s eyes glass over before he continues, “Ya know, when ya first met my ma she said ta me ‘’honey, she’s a nice girl. Be nice.’ and I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but I know my ma was never proud of my decisions especially when it came ta love. I was stubborn and I would always flee the minute things got difficult, and If i’m being honest I think it was a way to distract myself from all the pain I held in.

My shithead dad left when I was young, so when times got hard on my ma ‘Samu and I would go to my grandma’s.” A tear falls down his face and his leg begins to bounce under the table, “She was an amazing woman, and I’d spent a lot of time with her. I will not lie she was quite the gossip so there were a lot of things I shouldn’t have known…but I did. I knew that my ma just wanted to be loved, and I think from a young age I took that duty upon m’self. To make sure she knew she was loved, and my grandma was proud of me for that.

So, when my grandma passed I started college I figured I didn’t have time to grieve her and I spent a lot of time drownin’ out my sorrows with… sex.” He pauses for a moment, “ I-I noticed how happy it made me, and I figured I’m making these girls feel loved so I must be doing something right, but then things got messy. I spiraled and I swore it off when I got into MSBY, but then I met y’u.

I swear it was like my grandma placed ya here to knock me back into place. She always told me I would make an amazing husband and for some reason that day I met y’u I was reminded of that. I didn’t even know who ya were, but I knew deep down that y’u weren’t just anyone… I never told ya this, but I did start going to therapy after I met ya, and everything and every way I have reacted was genuine, but being here, with everyone, I think I knew ya would start ta see that old side of me that I tried so hard to bury, and I got scared…” by now the tears fall freely down his face, but he refuses to completely break. He’s always had to be the man of the house, but he needs to know that he’s allowed to show his emotions as well. That’s a lot of responsibility for a young boy.

Getting up from your seat, new tears fall from your face as you walk around to the same bench Atsumu sits on. Wrapping your arms around his frame you hold his head to your chest, and he breaks. He cries and his shoulders shake as he lets out the pain of the last several years.

It was obvious since the moment you met him that he was soft on the inside. He’s lost himself over the years like many have, but you’re glad he’s starting to pick up those pieces and put them back together. You squeeze him a little tighter before finally speaking up, “‘Tsumu…thank you for telling me all this. I was in my head a lot. I’m always in my head a lot,” you giggle, still holding him close, “If we want this to work we need to communicate,” you whispered for only him to hear. His head softly nods before he lifts his head up.

“What were ya gonna ask me before?” he whispers back.

You lean closer to him, your noses almost touching. Taking a deep breath you begin, “From the stories, and especially the things Suna was saying I was really beating myself up about how many relationships you’ve had. It’s stupid, It’s just jealousy.” you say, shaking your head.

“No, you’re allowed to feel that way. If we were switched I’d probably be in ma head about it too.” he attempts to calm you down. His hands move to hold yours, squeezing them to let you know that this is real.

“Sometimes I get really upset when I think about…maybe you had girlfriends with sexier bodies than me,” his head shakes, “ or maybe it’s a burden that I don’t always know what I’m doing, like when we kiss,” you finish, his head falls at your statement, but his hands never leaves yours. Now he understands why his statement before was so hurtful. Why can’t he just think about others for once?

You shake his hands to bring his attention back to you, “please don’t beat yourself up over it,” you beg.

He takes a deep breath before bringing one of your hands to his face so he can kiss it. “I hate that I hurt ya, but please do not ever compare yourself to anyone in my past. There’s a reason they’re in the past. Y’u are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Trust me I’ve seen a lotta woman,” He jokes. At that you lightly smack his arm. “I’m kidding, but seriously you are special, and I love you,” He brings your body close, holding you tight to his chest. Your hearts beating as one.

tags:

@mangiswig @fashionloverr846 @dracarysbitch @bbqsauceonmytitties2 @07-lsssaaa @touchmyanarchicblogs @z0mbi3dl @suyaaachin @fairyflorasworld @stellarnathy @kensqueent @gigiiiiislife @mncxbe @gustomagkalatnimicadito @yuminako @girlincrimson @haitanibros0007

IT WORKED!!!

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Three

— Little Big Race

Series Masterlist

wc: 2.4k

Usually, you had a hard time waking your daughter up, and unfortunately she got that habit from you. It was something your mother laughed at a lot whenever you told her about it. She would always say, "you were a troublesome child so now you have a troublesome child but she's cuter."

Today was a different story, Isabella was the one waking you up. "Mama, mama, mama, wake up, we have to see Maxy race today!" She jumped up and down on the bed even though you've tried to tell her not to.

Groaning, you peeked out the blanket to see the biggest toothy smile on your daughter's face and it should've been enough to wake you up. You looked over and saw the time, it was way too early for her to be this energetic. You still have no idea how she musters up so much energy in her little body.

"Bella, qualifying is seven hours away, let's sleep a little longer?" You asked and easily wrapped your arms around your little one. Covering her in the blanket, you hoped to at least get another hour of sleep.

It took her less than two minutes to fall back asleep in her mother's arms. That habit, was from her father who never had an issue of being unable to sleep quickly.

The hour passed by rather quickly, and this time Isabella woke up as soon as she felt you getting off the bed. The giddy excitement was still there and rightfully so but it was a little calmer than an hour ago.

Since you only had to order room service instead of cooking breakfast, the morning was a lot less stressful for you. As soon as Isabella was finished eating breakfast, she ran to her little suitcase and took out her outfit for the day.

Once you helped her change, your little girl was decked in a blue dress with red glittery clips in her hair according to her wishes, her reason being, "Maxy always wears red and blue."

Soon enough, you two were enroute towards the track. You had gotten your passes when you first checked in at the hotel because Max had dropped them off before you arrived.

It was simple enough finding your way towards the entrance, but it was a whole different story after. There were so many people, albeit less than outside, and they all looked like they knew where they were going.

Holding Isabella's hand tightly, you continued walking in hopes to figure out where you're supposed to go. "Where's Max, mama?" Your daughter asked but you didn't have an exact answer.

"Hopefully somewhere around here, angel." You contemplated calling him, unsure whether or not he'd be busy. But then again, if he is then he won't pickup so there was no harm in trying.

Keeping your gaze on Isabella, you called him. After two rings, he picked up, "Hi, I was just about to call you, are you here?" You could hear him panting on the other end as if he ran to pick up your call, but you decided not to comment on it.

"Yeah, I don't know exactly where we are though," He laughed on the other end, "it's okay, just describe the area and I'll come find you." 

You did as he instructed and Max was walking towards you within three minutes. However, he was not alone, there was another man in different coloured teamwear walking next to him. 

Isabella's smile grew when she spotted Max but since you were holding her hand, she couldn't run towards him. Max crouched down and held his hand up so Isabella could give him a high-five. 

The man standing next to him the same, and Isabella was mesmerized, gasping, "Daniel Ricciardo." She probably butchered the pronunciation of his surname but he didn't seem to mind.

Max shook his head, "no, Isabella, he's Daniel Avocado." The comment made Daniel burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in. 

The sound of your laugh directed Max's gaze towards you and once it was on you, it was stuck there. Even when Daniel nudged him and asked, "introductions?" 

A few seconds passed by without Max saying anything so to save him from further embarrassment, Daniel decided to take the liberty of introductions. Once you introduced yourself to him, Daniel had a knowing smile on his face. 

"So you're the one who's daughter ran away because of Max," he chuckled while your cheeks grew red in embarrassment, "unfortunately yes, how did you hear about that?" You asked, having an idea that Max probably told him.

But the answer Daniel gave you was surprising, "I've heard the story around ten times so far since someone keeps bringing you up in conversations." 

Max's eyes widened but you laughed, "is that so? Well Isabella hasn't stopped talking about Max either." 

You and Daniel collectively looked at Isabella who was still starstruck by not one but two drivers, the shock of being in the paddock finally catching up to her. Then the two of you looked at Max, who was also unusually quiet according to Daniel, and burst out laughing once again.

"Looks like both of them had too much to say and now it's not enough," Daniel commented and you agreed with a nod. "Your daughter is adorable by the way," he added to fill the silence and nudged Max harshly when you looked at her. 

"How about I show you around?" Max finally found his words, and you looked at him skeptically, "I don't want to take up your time if you have something else to do." 

"I've got some time, plus it would be very unfair if you came all the way here and I didn't spend time with you and Isabella." Max didn't wait for a response from you, instead turning his gaze towards your little one, "right?" 

Isabella gave him a sharp nod, and you couldn't help but smile as you saw the two interact. "Alright then, lead the way." 

It took him thirty minutes to show you around the paddock, but he mainly focused on the RedBull Energy Center, as that was where all the driver's guests could relax and enjoy some team catered meals.

Isabella asked him all sorts of questions, and Max even stopped for an extra minute to grab some noise cancelling earmuffs for her little ears. 

Your eyes widened when he placed them on her head, mentally cursing at the fact that out of all the things you could've forgotten, it was the headphones. Once again, before you could hide your expression, Max noticed it and muttered, "it's okay, that's why we have them here." 

He explained that since it was his home grand prix—something you didn't know until he mentioned it—most of the fans were rooting for him. 

Then, Max was approached by someone from his team, telling him that he was needed back in the garage. The rest of the day passed by quite fast. You watched qualifying from the hospitality as per Max's suggestions. 

As the session continued, you slowly understood some of the terminology, but it would still take a few more races to fully understand what is going on. On the other hand, Isabella clapped happily every time Max's RedBull passed by, and you even joined her after a few times. 

—

It is race day. You and Isabella were back in the paddock and this time you had figured out where to go. You were proud of yourself for navigating the area after only being shown around once. You reached later than you hoped due to the traffic, but fortunately, there was still a while before the race began.

Max had told you to meet him near the garages and when you neared them, you could see him speaking expressively to a small group of people. Based on their outfits, you knew they were drivers. The only one you remembered other than Max was Daniel, as you've met him yesterday. 

"Mama, walk faster," your daughter urged, her pace fastened as soon as she spotted Max, tugging you along. You were glad that she didn't leave your hand. 

"Maxy!" Your daughter cheered as soon as she was in hearing range of the drivers. They all collectively turned towards the noise, Max's face lighting up as soon as his gaze landed on you two. 

"Isabella!" Max cheered with the same amount of energy, and you let go of your daughter's hand so she could run up to him. 

He greeted you as well, taking a step closer to you and with a sheepish smile on his face he spoke, "I got something for her." Max said quietly enough so Isabella didn't hear him, since he wanted your approval first before he revealed his surprise. 

You nodded, encouraging him and with a big smile he placed a cap on Isabella's head, surprising her. She took it off to look at it and when she saw his driver's number on the cap, she gasped.

Then, she placed it back on her head and turned to look at you, "mama, look!" You chuckled, "very nice, what do you say, angel?" 

Isabella didn't think twice before hugging him, "thank you, thank you, thank you!" 

Max held out another cap for you, and before you could say anything he added, "I need everyone to know who you're cheering for." Deciding to tease him you responded, "what if I want to cheer for Daniel?" 

You saw his smile drop, making you break out into a smile to let him know you were just joking. You pointed to the number on the cap, "number 1 driver, yeah,” you stated, the implication of him being the number one driver both literally and figuratively was heard loud and clear.  

"Mama," Isabella grabbed your attention, pointing at the driver in a red suit that you've yet to be introduced to. "Lightning McQueen," she added, making the group of drivers around you laugh at her words. 

Charles pointed at himself, "me?" he looked at you for an answer and you nodded, "yeah, can you really blame her though, you're all decked out in red." 

As if you were lying, he looked down and then shrugged, "fair." 

Isabella was content with being the center of attention between the drivers that you now know the names of; Charles, Lando, Alex, and George.

Max pulled you aside. "I wanted to ask you this yesterday but we didn't have time. Do you think Isabella would like it if I let her sit inside my car?" 

Your mouth quite literally dropped open, and you had to blink a few times as if it would make you understand his words better. "Huh?" is all that left your mouth. 

"My car? Is she going to like it?" He asked again and you nodded, "she would love that, are you even allowed to do that?" 

He chuckled at your question, "it's my car, I think I can do anything I want with it." 

Before he could turn around to speak to Isabella, you reached for his hand to stop him, "Max, you have no idea how much this would mean to her." He nodded in understanding, "make sure to take lots of pictures." 

You heard her squeal in excitement as soon as Max asked the question, watching her eagerly nod. You followed them into the garage, heart warming at how Max held Isabella's hand the entire time. 

With the way Isabella hasn't stopped smiling, you would think her smile was permanently stuck on her face. You took loads of pictures, a few even with Max's helmet on her head that was way too big for her. 

Even the team principal, Christian Horner, stopped for a moment to look at the joy on both Isabella and Max's face. It would make one think that it was Max’s first time around a F1 car as well.

By the time the race started, Isabella's energy had significantly drained, but she remained awake for the entirety of the race. Watching the race from the garage unlocked a different joy on her face, and she would cheer when Max came into the pits for fresher tyres. 

As soon as her eyes drooped, something would occur in the race that would cause her to brighten up again. Max barely had to overtake as he started off in pole position, only needing to pass the other drivers after coming out of the pitlane. 

Just like Isabella, your eyes didn't waver away from the race despite how fast your heart was beating due to nervousness about the drivers' speeds. 

You knew they were the best of the best, very professional, but ever since you've gotten to know them personally, you couldn't help but worry for them. Especially Max. 

Turns out, you didn't have to worry too much as Max crossed the finish line first, winning the race in front of his home crowd. 

Everything after that was a blur. You just remember Christian leading you towards the crowd underneath the podium, ensuring that no one had the audacity to push or shove you. Isabella was safely in your arms, watching the celebrations with wide but sleepy eyes. 

As soon as she saw the trophy being handed to Max, she rested her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. 

Once the champagne was sprayed, you made your way through the crowd, walking towards the exit. Your daughter was sound asleep and you didn't want the noise waking her up and disturbing her much needed rest. 

Other than the one extra hour of rest in the morning, she hadn't taken any naps since she was mesmerized by everything around her. Now, since it was all over, all you focused on was getting back to the hotel. 

As soon as Isabella was comfortably in bed, you decided to take a shower to wash away all the built up and dried sweat. While you were busy, your phone rang with two calls, both from Max, that were inevitably sent to voicemail. 

After your shower, you ordered some food and turned on the tv in the other room. Around fifteen minutes went by before there was a knock on your door. Thinking it was room service with your dinner, you opened it without checking who it really was.

Max was stood on the other side, changed out of his race suit but still in a Redbull polo.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @minskzy @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @loliaa @distancedss @bache3 @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @lexiecamposv @sadg3

[writerpeach]

Anytime, Anywhere

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x m!reader

19k words

Happy Minju Day!

---

Read on AO3

“I’m not looking for a roommate, Minju.”

The conversation should have ended there. But it didn’t.

Your front door is wide open and you can’t seem to close it shut. Like there’s something in the way. This something is a girl standing by the open door, carrying a suitcase, looking as pathetic as could be. Her hair is a mess, and the way she's been crying makes her eyes all swollen, nose still red. The only way she could look any more pitiful would be standing in the rain without an umbrella, but here she is with this disappointment on her face because you’ve given her an answer she wasn’t expecting. 

You’ve known Kim Minju since your first year of college. The first person to talk to you during orientation when you were too nervous to even look at anyone. Now you’ve graduated with a stable job that pays well, and moved into your first apartment, a place you can finally call your own—you’re not about to ruin it all. 

Minju was the first person you shared a meal with at campus, the first person you walked to class with that was just as awkward as you were, and you’d practically do anything for her—except let her live with you. 

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun!” 

Minju has a strange definition of fun. 

“Fun? One more mess to clean up? Having to buy more ice cream because you’ve eaten it all? Running out of hot water to take a shower with? No thanks. I'm not looking for a roommate.”

The girl doesn’t budge from the doorway, like giving up isn’t a part of her vocabulary. “Hey, I can clean up after myself. And I don’t even eat that much, so I won’t steal your ice cream. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

There’s some truth to that. All those years you’ve known Minju, she’s always been the quiet, demure girl who’s always cleaned up after herself and others without asking. You can’t exactly picture her the type to throw loud parties, and she’s probably the biggest homebody that you know. But still—that’s not enough a reason to let her live here on a whim. You enjoy your privacy, your quiet, your hot showers, and most importantly, your time alone.

“Minju, the answer is still no. The last thing I need right now is a roommate.” 

Your answer is firm and resounding, but Minju expects that to change. Like she’s got this laundry list of ideas that will convince you otherwise. 

“But don’t you get lonely? Look, I can clean. And I can cook. Kind of. And I can—“

“No, I enjoy not having anyone around. And I can cook just fine. I have a housekeeper that comes in twice a month. I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Every last word you’re saying puts a big frown on her face. Minju’s great, a terrific friend, but hearing the word no has never been one of her favorite things. 

“But I—“ she starts, and you can tell there’s about to be a double down you can’t prepare for. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” 

There it is. The pouty lips, the desperation, the puppy dog eyes. This triple combo intended to make you feel every pang of guilt, yet you’ve seen it so many times over the course of knowing her that you’ve grown immune to it. And you know it’s not exactly true. Kim Minju was always the popular one. Always the one with a plethora of friends. So it’s not exactly like she’s about to be homeless if you refuse her. 

“You had friends. So many friends, Minju. I never got to have lunch with you because you were always spending time with them. What happened? Surely you can live with one of them?” 

Minju looks away and down to her feet, like you’ve accidentally found some weakness of hers. Obviously, something has happened to have her standing in your doorway right now, looking so defeated, but when you’ve barely spoken the past couple of years outside of birthday messages, there's really no way for you to know.

“I’ve lost contact with most of them. The others, they’ve moved on. They’ve graduated, have lives, careers, families…” Minju says, as she stares off into space, like she’s seeing everything play out again right before her eyes. 

“And you think I don’t? What happened to you, Minju? You were top of the class. The most popular girl. And now you’re begging for a place to live?” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, there’s a long moment of hesitation before she speaks up again. “I made some mistakes."

Minju pauses again before delving into details. “I made so many mistakes. I moved in with my friend. Chaewon, do you remember her? Kim Chaewon? She was my best friend. We dated for six months and then moved in together. Then, my priorities got really screwed up, I guess. I focused more on going to parties with her instead of studying, and then that caught up with me when exams came around. Lost my scholarship, my interest in classes, and then eventually—lost Chaewon.”

It's a lot to take in all at once. 

Minju has never struck you as the type to be so reckless that she would let everything else spiral out of control. Not when she's the most hard-working and smartest person that you've ever met. Then again, you haven’t talked to her in years, and people change. But at the end of the day, that's still not enough reason for you to let her stay here. 

“I'm sorry to hear that, Minju." That's the only thing you can think to say, but even that seems to come across as a bit hollow. 

“The only person that offered to take me in was Sakura, said she could get me a job where she works. But… I can’t move to Japan. I don’t want to take my clothes off on camera for a living. You know she's an adult actress now? I can't do that."

“Minju, I understand, but I like living by myself, and I really don't want someone else. It’s nothing against you. Things here are nice and—“ 

“I’ll pay extra rent! I’ll pay more than my share. I’ll make sure the fridge is always full. I’ll…”

It doesn't seem to sink in that you're not interested, that you don’t want this at all, that you value your privacy above all else. “It’s not about money. I'm sorry, Minju, but no.” 

Minju isn’t listening. 

Or rather refuses to hear it, like she can't accept your rejection. So there's only one thing left for her to try as she falls to her knees—begging like her life depends on it. 

There's plenty of neighbors around, and having her on your doormat draws all this unwarranted attention that you don't need. But at this point, Minju still can't seem to fathom that your answer will never be the one that she wants to hear.

“Minju, stop.“

“Please, just for like a few weeks? So I can figure things out? I won’t be a bother, I promise.” Minju clutches onto your legs. It's embarrassing how desperate she looks right now, and the few people that walk by staring while this plays out aren't helping one bit. 

“Look, I’ll call around. I’m sure I have some friends with empty rooms that aren’t even getting used.” 

That sounds like a good offer, the best one you can give—but not to Kim Minju. She just clutches harder, so desperate that her nails are almost digging into your thighs through the thin layer of fabric of your pants. It's only been seconds since you've suggested the idea, but already, Minju is giving her rebuttal.

“But I don’t know your friends. So you want me to live with strangers? With people I’ve never even met? What if they try something weird?” Minju whines while finding a way to twist your words, and any last remnants of pity you have left vanishes. 

“Minju, I said stop,” you say with more authority, but it just makes her cling on even tighter. The iron grip she won’t relinquish almost causes you to lose your balance as you push away, trying to peel her off you to no avail. 

“Get up, Minju. This is beneath you.” 

She knows it is. Minju has always been so composed, and she knows that even if all other options are exhausted, there are less extreme measures to take. But there she is, clutching at your legs like there's no other alternative. Like this is her last resort.

"Minju, you need to leave." This isn’t your fault, and yet, somehow, it feels like it is.

"I can be a good roommate!"

Minju gives up on begging, finally rising to her feet with this adamant look on her face, like she’s going to give this one more dire attempt. “Please. I can give you something that's even better than rent."

It should end there. You should apologize that you can’t help, close the door on Minju, then grab a cold beer out of your fridge and forget this day happened. 

“Look, you still like women, right?”

What an odd question. You have no idea where this is going, and Minju has gone from begging to, well, whatever this is. Either way, you don’t answer.

“Come on, I’ve never known you to be shy. Surely you have needs, desires—and I can help with that. Just let me stay for a little bit while I get back on my feet. I can repay you in a way no one else can."

“Have you lost your mind, Minju?”

Clearly, the desperation has gotten to her head. Minju may sound as coherent as ever, yet you can’t comprehend these words. Maybe you need more sleep, maybe you’re a bit dehydrated—

“We’ve been friends for years… and you’ve never thought about me that way?“ she asks, sauntering closer towards you with this new sense of confidence in her step. Minju, she’s hot—very hot, this supermodel body with an angelic face you can stare at for hours. But that doesn’t mean you’ve entertained such thoughts. 

“Now, tell me. Wouldn’t it be nice if you had someone who gets you off as soon as you walk through that door? Someone who drops to their knees without any command. It must get pretty stressful, living on your own, without anyone to even talk to…” 

“It doesn’t, Minju. I’m fine. I really don’t need anything.“

“You keep repeating that, saying the same thing. You’re gonna tell me you wouldn’t enjoy getting between my legs right in the morning? Or having a way to destress after all those long hours at work? You would never want any of that?"

“Jesus, Minju, I’m not paying you for sex. This is ridic—” 

"That's not what I'm saying at all. All I need is a roof over my head, and in exchange—you can use my body as you wish. It can be as quick or long as you want. As many times as you desire. Anytime. Any day. Anywhere. No strings attached, that's my offer.” 

What an insane offer this is. 

“Get inside,” you beckon, because if the absurdity of this exchange won’t stop, at the very least you don’t want anyone else to overhear these suggestions. Minju follows inside, her suitcase still on wheels dragging along while she shuts the door behind. 

“Sit down, please.” 

Taking off her jacket, Minju takes a seat on the couch and crosses her legs, making herself comfortable. She sits right against the backrest, both arms sprawled wide across it while you wait for her to fully explain this ridiculous proposal. 

“Well?" Minju asks, a big cheeky grin, convinced she’s already won. “Sounds like you’re interested. If you weren’t, you would have kept insisting on me leaving, wouldn’t you?” 

Like you could ever get Minju to leave. 

Without much of a reaction, you sink into the armchair to her right. It's hard to find the words to say because she has a point. There were countless ways you could have asked her to leave, but you chose not to. Or maybe you’re just too exhausted by this whole thing.

“So—“ you pause, because you’re sure if you can call her bluff, this little game can end. “You’re serious?” 

Minju curls her lips. An eyebrow raises. She leans forward and folds her hands in her lap. This devilish little look in her eyes doesn’t have an ounce of doubt. “Absolutely. Just hear me out.”

You let out a sigh at the idea of ever entertaining this. “Explain it all. Don’t leave anything out.” 

Minju can’t help but laugh. “I’ve pretty much told you everything already. For as long as you let me stay here, I’ll be available at your disposal. As simple as that. Whenever you want to fuck me, you don’t even have to ask. I’ll drop everything.” 

“I don’t have to ask?” you repeat back, still in disbelief that Minju is capable of coming up with such an arrangement.

Minju nods. "If we come to an agreement today, then you won’t ever need to ask. You can have me in any and every way that you want. No restrictions."

“None?” 

“None whatsoever. You want a blowjob first thing in the morning? No problem. Need to fuck me at night before I sleep? You just say the word. Whenever you get horny, you can go right ahead and shove your cock in me. No need to hold back, ever."

"And you would be okay with that?”

“I’m the one who suggested it, didn’t I? I need a place to live, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some help getting off. So we help each other out.”

This doesn't feel real, to hear the girl sitting next to you is essentially suggesting her body to be a form of rent, and yet, this has been Minju's solution like it’s nothing. 

“And I meant anytime. If you’re hard at two in the morning and you wanna fuck a load into me, well, go right ahead.” 

“Jesus, Minju,” you say, and if you had a drink in your hands, you would absolutely be spitting it out right now. ”I’m not gonna wake you in the middle of the night to fuck you.” 

“Hey, I’m just saying. Totally okay if you wanted to. It’s all part of the rules.” 

“And are there any other rules?” Saying no to Minju is never simple, and this offer on the table seems almost impossible to resist. 

“Nothing too painful outside of spanking. Nothing too out of the ordinary or illegal. That should cover it. I’ll be looking for a job to help out as soon as I settle in, that is—assuming we’ve come to an agreement?” 

Maybe you should think this over, sleep on it even. But Minju, she looks like a goddess, with a banging body to go with it, and hey, she’s a friend, not a stranger, so there’s no way this could go wrong, right? 

“I promise you won’t regret this. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this place, and then whenever you need it—I’ll take care of you.” 

Minju really can’t help but be pleased at herself at that.

“Okay, sure. Fine.” 

“We have a deal?” 

“Yeah. Deal.” 

That's all it takes for it to happen.

“One more thing. We’re getting a contract made, to make sure this is all clear and consensual,” you say, and Minju has no complaints with that at all. It’s not that you don’t trust her, but putting it on paper seems only wise given the situation. 

“Understandable. Whatever you need.”

Pleased that this is all settled, Minju stands up from the couch with relief on her face. Then, with a radiating smile, she makes her way towards you, leaning down until she presses her lips against yours, sealing the deal with a kiss. 

“Thank you. You won’t really regret this at all.” 

✦ ✦

The rest of the night is relatively uneventful. 

It’ll take some time to adjust to having someone else in your place. At first, there’s not much conversation between you two other than an exchange of pleasantries while you help Minju get situated. She doesn’t have much in terms of belongings. A couple of boxes, an extra suitcase, a laptop bag and her purse—nothing that can fill a bedroom, which makes sense given the story she’s told you. 

You lend a hand in bringing it all in, and Minju gets her phone charger set up before running herself a long, hot shower that leaves plenty of time for you to think. This ridiculous arrangement starts to feel less surreal when you look around and find your apartment looking less empty. Yet, you’re not exactly sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

After giving Minju a quick tour of the place, she winds up sleeping on the couch, since your spare bedroom has served as storage for months. 

Aside from the agreement, nothing really changes overnight.

The next morning, there’s fresh coffee already made when you head into the kitchen. Minju has taken advantage of your breakfast offerings, pouring milk into a full cereal bowl when she notices your presence. Seated at the kitchen table, there’s this innocent expression on her face as she eats, wearing a white tank top and a tiny pair of black gym shorts that do little to cover those never-ending legs. 

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Minju asks as you sit down across from her, pouring yourself a cup of coffee before adding sugar and a splash of milk from the nearby carton.

“Well enough. Sorry about the couch. I’ll try to empty out the spare bedroom today.” 

Taking a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, Minju smiles and shakes her head, like your apology is unwarranted. “It's totally fine, don’t worry. I could have slept on the floor if I needed to. I’m just happy to be here at all.”

Minju’s gratitude is every bit genuine, and it looks like she got the best night of sleep that she's had in years. Which is hard to believe, given you’ve spent your share of nights sleeping on that same couch and it's nowhere near comfortable. Then again, you weren’t in the same position Minju was. 

“No breakfast?” 

“Not yet. I’ll cook something in a bit. Need to get some coffee in me first.” 

“Oh, I can do it. Anything I can make you? I don’t mind,” Minju suggests, starting to rise to her feet. 

“No, it’s fine, don’t get up. I like making breakfast.” You sip your coffee, and Minju settles back down to start eating again. Because even if you have someone else sitting across from you now, let alone Minju, you can’t break from routine. 

There’s a bit of awkward silence that happens while the two of you eat, as you’re unsure what to really say. But it’s day one of having a roommate, and you don’t regret it. Not yet. 

"So, are you off to work?" Minju asks, as she gets up from the chair and puts her empty bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.

You nod in response as you tilt your head to finish off the last of your coffee. "Yeah. Well, I work uh, here, actually.” 

“Here? Oh, like from home? That must be nice," Minju replies as she sits back down, like she’s waiting for something else to keep herself busy with.

"It's not the most ideal setup, but it's better than having a commute."

"I can imagine. Well, don't let me keep you then. If you need—you know, anything, let me know.” 

That sentence lingers in your mind while you head to your home office. And the workday starts the same way as it always does: meetings, phone calls, answering emails, the same tedium over and over. The only difference is the addition of Minju when you get up to grab a snack, some water, or more coffee—she’s there to greet you with a smile every time. 

The morning drags on, and you end up working through lunch to get caught up, which ends up being a mistake for many reasons. Now you’re this bad combo of stress and hunger, a recipe for disaster, but one of those problems is easier to solve than the other. So you grab a granola bar out of your desk drawer to tide you over, and as the wrapper lands in the trash can, you realize you can fix the other problem rather quickly as well. 

With Minju. 

It’s the whole reason why you’ve agreed to let her be here in the first place. So might as well test it out, right? And yet, you’re not even sure how to go about it. Summon her and say what, you're stressed, start stripping, and get on your knees? That sounds ridiculous to do, to even think about, especially when Minju hasn't been here for more than 24 hours yet.

Maybe the hunger is getting to you, and you should make a quick sandwich before getting back to work. Or maybe—just maybe, you should ask Minju for what she's offered.

"Minju?" you call out as you lean back in your chair, trying not to sound nervous at all. Within moments, a pair of bare feet enter into the room, arriving like she’s been on standby the entire time. 

You survey Minju from head to toe, this gorgeous thing idly standing before you, as if she’s waiting for orders. It takes you a moment to realize you’re just shamelessly staring at her, but who could blame you? The girl is the epitome of perfection: pale skin, these wide, curvy hips that lead to ridiculously long legs down to her painted toes, and tantalizingly creamy thighs that leave you salivating. 

Her tank top hangs just above her belly button, with the outline of her modest tits completely exposed through the flimsy fabric, the barest hints of nipples brazenly displayed, and there isn’t a hint of anything beneath her shorts besides bare flesh. You’re not sure this isn’t entirely intentional, designed to either tease or lure you into testing the waters, but maybe this is just Minju getting comfortable. 

Regardless, it’s working like a charm to ignite a fire inside you. 

"What can I help with?" Minju asks as her hands meet behind her back, nipples poking through the fabric of her tank top even more visible the closer she gets. She looks completely ready for whatever you’re prepared to throw at her, but you’re not even sure where to begin. 

“Are you busy?” 

“Not at all, just unpacking some boxes. But that can always wait.” 

"Good,” you start out as your eyes drift down Minju’s immaculate body, and can’t help but wonder what she looks like underneath those clothes. “I need—“ 

You take in a sharp breath, not used to something like this—or the fact that Minju might be willing to go along with whatever you imagine. 

“Need what?” She smiles knowingly, understanding whatever it is you need, she’ll happily oblige. You pause for way too long, your mouth suddenly feeling dry at the thought of voicing the idea in your head. “Don’t be shy…” 

Easy for her to say. 

“You need me to get you off?” Minju asks in this sultry voice when you don’t say anything in response, and it sounds so natural when she does, like there’s no reservation of putting herself out there like this. Eventually, you let out this pathetic little nod that doesn’t quite pass as a response, but still gets Minju to slowly drop down to her knees. And the realization of what’s about to happen gets your heart racing. 

“So…” Minju murmurs, as she scoots her body in between your legs. Her palm flattens against your thigh in these slow caresses that send a wave of warmth as it slides to your crotch. “You want my mouth? I bet you taste really good.” 

It's far more direct and open than you were prepared for, and has you trying to find an ounce of confidence. “God, yes.” 

There’s way too much desperation in your voice already, but it’s all Minju needs to get to work. Unzipping your pants, she tugs them down as you lift your hips. Already, your cock aches, getting hard, having no chance of hiding under the thin fabric of your boxers. 

When Minju frees you from your boxers, her hot breath against your bare cock makes you twitch. Her delicate hand closes around your erection, and she pumps with these slow, languid strokes, a motion that gets you to full hardness. In a matter of seconds, your shaft pulsates in her hands, leaking a steady stream of precum to coat her fingers. 

“You’re so fucking hard. This beautiful cock is what I get to play with for the next few weeks?”

Leaning your head back, you groan in response. You stare up at the ceiling while Minju strokes your hard shaft, these painful throbs getting instant relief when she moves in short, but powerful motions that draw a few breaths of bliss. It’s unfathomable, how the smallest touch she offers feels so damn good, this firm grasp she keeps coiling up and down your length at a leisurely pace to make you leak more. 

This is certainly a much better use of your time than staring at screens for hours. 

“You must be so pent up. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Minju asks, dragging a lone finger down from the base of your cock upwards to the head, across your slit, teasing her tongue over to taste precum smearing around, offering the briefest sample of what’s coming. 

“But I know you need more…” As she inches even closer, Minju spits right on top and you gasp at the sensation of saliva on your overheated cock. With each stroke, she spreads the fluid along your pulsing shaft, allowing it to drip down and coat your entire length. Her other hand fondles your balls, tugging on them playfully and doesn’t ignore how heavy they feel, as if it’s her new obligation to do something about that. 

“You needed this, didn’t you?” 

Another weak nod in return, because at this point words fail you. You want nothing more than Minju to guide her hot mouth down, swallowing you all until there’s nothing left. And you won’t have to wait long for that. 

Because even without Minju getting her mouth on your sensitive cock, you’re overwhelmed already. It’s clear she’s no stranger to this, the way her fingers tease and squeeze tightly around your dick, working in tandem with that pretty wet mouth that slides across your balls. Sticky drool spills down her tongue as she takes these sweeping licks against each back and forth, giving them individual care and attention in a way that’s granting pleasure you desperately seek. 

“Delicious,” Minju hums, and doesn’t pause for anything, smirking as her tongue drags up, taking swipes and frantic flicks against the underside of your shaft. 

This teasing, it’s insufferable. 

The soft groans that she coaxes out persist, until eventually her lips hover around your swollen head, and Minju plants a series of wet kisses to coat your dick in that gets you throbbing like crazy. Your patience gets tested as she gathers her messy dark hair into a ponytail in this slow, deliberate way. But you know exactly what’s about to take place. 

Her gaze gets locked tight as her warm tongue swirls around your leaking slit—then she lowers her mouth gradually, and takes just the head into her hot, wet mouth. It’s everything you need. Those perfect lips seal tight, and immediately she bobs her head at a smooth and consistent pace. Not too slow or too fast. 

Minju’s lips work their magic as she works a fist around your throbbing shaft, a grip just right that squeezes right beneath the head that keeps disappearing into her mouth. The tension in your body, it all melts as you sit back and enjoy the warmth of her wet mouth. She’s every bit eager to give everything you desire, this deadly eye contact that never yields, with hollowed cheeks as those soft lips slide down your throbbing cock. 

"Fuck, that’s amazing," you groan out, struggling to catch a steady breath. The way Minju handles your cock is nothing short of masterful, those heavenly soft lips wrapped tight around your shaft, and that equally talented wet tongue that flicks back and forth, tracing along every vein, every sensitive spot. 

It's a little slice of heaven.

Words can’t describe how good Minju’s warm little mouth feels on you. It doesn’t take much for her to get your cock absolutely drenched with a thick layer of saliva, this insatiable hunger to take more, increasing with every stroke her lips make. 

"Just like that, god..." Your voice trails off in a moan as your head hits the back of your chair. “That’s perfect, fuck, Minju—you’re so damn good at this.” 

The words hit her just right. Minju loves the praise, and in return, gives more pleasure, the immaculate pleasure that gets sloppier as she quickens the pace. Her gentle suction increases with every pass of her lips, with every desperate lick and slurp. She doesn’t leave any part out, massaging your balls with her free hand as that delicious mouth swallows up more and more of your length with each and every bob. 

“You really needed this, huh? Needed me to make you feel good?” Minju shows no intention of stopping, your shaft glistening from how much of a sloppy mess she's making. Her soft lips have an intimate way of knowing exactly what you need, this tight airtight seal around your cock every time they slide down, while the gentle tug at your balls gives you a perfect mix of pleasure. 

“It feels so fucking good—ah, fuck, Minju," you say, while your moans fuel this sloppy, absolutely mind-blowing blowjob that you never want to end. If this is going to be a common occurrence, then maybe having Minju around won’t be so bad. And you could get used to the sight of your roommate on her knees. 

This craving for more takes hold, but Minju fulfills it as she goes so deep. Her eyes water the further she gets, but this persistence never waivers, almost reaching the very base as she breathes deeply through her nose to take every last inch to the base. Minju swallows you whole in one motion, and shows no signs of backing down, even as she struggles to hold back her gag reflex.

“Minju—fuck,” you say in between sharp breaths as you stay inside this tight throat while the warmth surrounds you, makes you throb more than ever, building up your release. 

It’s impossible not to stare, impossible not to watch your length disappear again and again between those pretty pink lips as her perfect rhythm continues, this desire that only has one exit. 

“Mm, I can feel you're close," Minju says as she slides your shaft out of her mouth with a wet pop, jerking you off at an agonizingly slow pace. "Tell me where you want to cum. My mouth, my face—or somewhere else?” 

You need a moment to gather your voice before you can even think. 

“Your mouth. Wanna cum in your pretty fucking mouth.” 

Minju quite likes that answer. You aren’t given a moment of respite as she keeps up this same relentless pace, slurping on your length with endless amounts of fervor, with a new goal to suck you absolutely dry. She gets you right on the edge of release, eyes begging, pleading to taste it all, waiting for you to spill down her throat at any moment. 

The desperate look she gives while playing with your balls is more than enough to bring you right over the edge. With a low grunt, you empty into her warm, waiting mouth, thick spurts of hot cum coating the back of Minju's throat like this was just what she was hoping for. The more she drains your balls, the harder you moan, cock twitching with every burst of pleasure, and not a single inch of you isn’t unloading into that talented little mouth. 

Minju happily takes everything, her tongue not letting a single drop spill past those heavenly lips. There's no sign of disappointment on her face as she gulps down your load, with a smile that shows no remorse for taking you over the edge so easily.

"What a huge, delicious load," she murmurs after swallowing it all, running her tongue all over her lips. Minju makes sure to clean every inch of your length, from base to tip, licking and kissing every drop of cum until she's satisfied with her work. 

“Feel better?” 

"Yeah..." you breathe out, struggling to gather yourself, let alone find the right words after the intense high that Minju looks so proud of giving. “Much. Fuck, Minju—you’re amazing. Thanks.” 

“Anytime," she says with a soft laugh, as her hand still clings onto your cock, a few light squeezes and strokes that keep it hard. "Just let me know when you need more, okay? I'll be around."

“I—I should probably get back to work,” you say, sounding almost apologetic. With the euphoric bliss still lingering through your body, you’re not sure how you’ll get any work done, but that’s a worry for another time. 

“Yeah, of course. I still have some unpacking to do.” As Minju rises from her knees, she plants one last soft kiss against your swollen head before getting up to leave you with your thoughts, a moment alone to recuperate. You can't stop yourself from watching as she walks away, drooling over those luscious thighs and that minuscule pair of shorts that her ass practically swallows up. 

Work is the last thing on your mind, but you’ll power through with the help of this appetizer you’ve been given. This little sample is just one dish in a full buffet for what Minju can offer, and there’s no doubt that you’re going back for seconds. 

✦ ✦

It's late in the night by the time Minju stops unpacking. You’ve cleared out the guest bedroom, and she’s settled in enough to make it look like her own space. After working later than usual, you’re slumped on the couch, mindlessly zoning out while the TV drones in the background.

“Hey,“ Minju says as she makes her way in, still dressed in the same attire, this tight tank top that looks even more disheveled, exposing more midriff, and the same gym shorts that you swear look even shorter than earlier. Plopping down beside you, her curves instantly draw your gaze, like this outfit was designed to steal your attention. 

The littlest movement makes her flimsy top ride up, and you have no choice but to stare as Minju adjusts herself, lifting her arms overhead to stretch her arms, which gives a teasing glimpse of those perky tits that seem like they’re just destined to pop out. “Finished with work?” 

Now that there’s a light sheen of sweat worked up from unpacking boxes and organizing her room, her milky white skin looks so good. Minju looks nothing but utterly enticing, which has you dying to get to know that body better.

“All caught up. For now.” 

There hasn't been a moment all day when your full attention hasn’t been elsewhere, when you haven’t been thinking about Minju. She takes another stretch, and you’re sure this is deliberate when it draws a little moan that doesn’t normally come from this sort of relief. This time, your eyes are immediately drawn to her toned stomach, and you can just picture tasting it, covering it in little licks and pecks, this devilish temptation there’s no hope to resist. 

“Well, I should really shower,” Minju says as she starts getting up, but not before giving her stomach a slow caress, like she knows you can't keep your eyes off her. 

“Shower?” There’s obvious intention in the way you repeat it, like you have other plans in mind for her. 

“I’m all sweaty. I’ll be quick. I don’t wanna use up all your hot water.” 

Now, there's only so long you can hold back from testing out the waters, and it only takes a moment to throw aside your own inhibitions. You find sudden courage to give into your urges, and the look on Minju's face can’t hide the surprise from your sudden forwardness. “The shower can wait.“

If Minju’s going to take her clothes off anyway, you might as well give her a head start. 

“Your clothes, Minju." You're still hesitating, even if it's been on your mind all day, even after what she did earlier. "They’ll look better once they’re all off.”

“Then shouldn’t you do something about that, then?” 

There’s a borderline annoyance in her tone, like it’s way too easy if she does it, and wants you to take charge to do it instead. So you’ll indulge that, trailing your hands up her sweaty stomach to take in these perfect abs that flex at your touch.

The sweat that drips on her body, her delicious abs that glisten under your fingertips as you slide up to grab her tits, it heightens your arousal even more. She still isn't wearing a bra, so you give her these light little squeezes through her skimpy top, that makes her back arch, but this annoying barrier of fabric has to go. 

So the moment your hands pull up Minju's top, she lifts her arms to let you slip it off and throw it aside, her tits finally revealed as they spring free. And fuck, are they even better than what you had imagined—soft, round, the perfect size for her body, topped with rosy little nipples that just beg to be touched.

“I can promise you the rest of my body is just as good,” Minju assures as she catches you staring for far too long. No doubt you believe her, because this confidence isn’t just for show, but still, you’ll have to investigate on your own. 

Not the least bit shy, Minju shifts into the couch underneath you, flattening her back on the cushions to bring you down with her. Her slender arms lift high above her head, as if she’s daring you to explore her further, willingly inviting your hands to travel up and down to explore wherever you please. 

You'll accept this invitation without a second thought.

There's an inherent magnetism pulling you closer, as your fingertips caress whatever bare skin is in reach. With so many different paths to explore, all these intoxicating features that you want to taste and lick clean, it’s near impossible to pick where to start. While the gears in your head turn, Minju just stares back, so curious as to what you plan to do first.

It’s impossible to make a decision.

This body, this tight body of a goddess demands your utmost attention. These thick thighs perfect to wrap around your head, wide hips that were made for your hands, and this irresistible stomach that practically screams for you to make a sticky mess on. 

That’s all before you get to see what’s hidden underneath those tiny, barely there shorts. 

Minju’s curiosity doesn’t take long to satisfy while you plant your lips on her stomach, peppering the warm skin in kisses and licks as you taste every inch. This light hint of sweat, the sweetness that you can only attribute to Minju's delicious taste, it all comes from just her sexy stomach. It doesn't take much to imagine what other places would taste like.

The soft sighs that she makes encourage you to lick more, to plant messy kisses that cover every bit of her tight abdomen, while you can hear every breath she takes as you ensure you don’t miss a single spot. 

“God, Minju—“ You continue this feast of unapologetic indulgence, kissing your way upwards towards Minju’s cute chest, roaming between the valley of her breasts. “You’re fucking perfect.” 

“Better not forget that.” Minju gets a shy blush on her cheeks, and her nipples react the moment you tease them by playfully pinching them, rolling them, tugging between your fingers. Before her next breath, you get your lips wrapped around them, and then you take these unabashed slurps, these pretty buds that merit your equal attention. 

The cutest whine escapes Minju when your tongue circles the stiff buds, making them stand out even more under your stimulation. She’s so sensitive, and you relish in that, planning to use it to your advantage later. And fuck, there just isn’t a part of her that doesn’t taste absolutely delicious. 

As breathtaking as the girl’s body is, it’s not even the main event. You’re having too much enjoyment sucking on her cute tits, teasing them with your sloppy tongue, but you just know there’s a growing heat between her thighs, one that mirrors the frustration levels of your dick straining against your pants. 

You’ve got Minju’s body all mapped out, and you could spend all night tasting these delicious curves, devouring her breasts, planting as many kisses on her tummy as you can—but it’s unfair to ignore the other appetizing parts of her deadly figure. 

Besides, you can’t wait to peel those shorts off her ridiculous hips. 

A moment to catch your breath is all you need, because there’s no more time left to hold back your lust. You leave her with one lingering kiss on her stomach, and then your greedy hands peel those annoying shorts off with Minju’s assistance when she lifts her butt up. Through that eager smile, she doesn’t spoil the surprise that there's not even a pair of underwear underneath to stand in the way of her naked body—

That silky smooth, shaven pussy is all you can focus on, already soaking wet when she parts her thighs to give a tempting glimpse at those pink lips, and all you can think about is what they'll feel like wrapped around your cock. 

“Do you normally not wear panties, Minju?” you say, taking a moment to admire the sight of her bare cunt in its glory. 

“Depends on the company,” she admits, this faux innocent expression that is anything but that washes over her. You can’t go another second without getting your cock out, desperate for any kind of relief from this persistent ache while you unzip your pants. Minju watches you strip down with the same hunger in her gaze, shirt pulled over your head in one motion, and then your pants slide off along with your boxers. 

"That's much better," Minju says, and gets her fingers wrapped around your shaft, with no intention of doing anything else except for that. “It's so big, so perfect for me..." 

A firm squeeze gets your throbs going, as if you needed any encouragement to be rock hard, and Minju gets this content little smile at feeling it grow even more between her fingers. 

As the moments pass, her innocent demeanor fades, replaced by a longing gaze fixated on your hardened shaft, where there’s only one destination your length needs to sink into. Sprawling out on the cushions, Minju stretches out her long legs that are practically built to wrap around your body. 

Those wet folds, and your throbbing cock, there's only one outcome when they have their first meeting. 

With no reluctance, you position yourself between Minju's spread thighs, feeling how slick her pussy has gotten with anticipation. You run your cock against her dripping folds that glisten, teasing her slit as your shaft coats itself in her wetness. "It'll fit inside you so fucking well." 

You’re too speechless to apologize to Minju for not eating her out first, but judging by the way she’s looking at you, she’ll live. The initial plunge rips a heavy moan right out of your throat, all these sensations hitting all at once. There's no pause when you pull back, then slide in again unabated, pushing more of your thick shaft into this perfect pussy. 

"Fuck, you're so damn tight, Minju, god—"

“Did you expect anything else?” she asks, before another moan tears through her. There's no resistance to impede you, just inviting wet flesh that wraps around your cock in this wetness, your cockhead sliding deeper into the warmth of her cunt with ease.

“Oh my god.” Her walls tighten around your shaft, this overwhelming heat welcoming every inch into her cunt like it belongs there. “This pussy is perfect. I’m going to use it every chance I get.” 

“I sure hope so. That’s what I’m here for.” 

With nothing else but a confident smile on Minju’s face, and nothing but these erotic little moans as her walls stretch to accommodate every inch, until you can bottom her out for the first time. She’s so fucking tight it’s almost painful, this absolute vice grip that squeezes the life out of your cock, ensuring you aren’t going anywhere. “Your cock is so thick, it’s filling me up so well…” 

The urge to just drive your cock as deep inside of her as possible becomes overwhelming, and Minju doesn't give any signs that she wants to be treated delicately. There's no room for restraint or holding back with how well she takes it all, how badly she craves every inch you've got. “Don’t think for a moment I can’t take you all.” 

So you let the carnal urges take control, grabbing her slender waist and pounding into this heavenly cunt with no remorse. 

“Minju, fuck, your pussy feels so good,” you growl, each thrust only making you want to stay buried in there longer. You’re hitting all the right angles, creating an erotic soundtrack of flesh while Minju's wet cunt swallows you up to the base, squeezing in just the perfect way around every last inch as you pull back and plunge right back in.

“And it’ll feel even better when you cum inside.” 

There’s hardly even any time to think of a response before Minju wraps her long legs around your waist, digging her heels into the small of your back so she can draw your cock in even deeper. “I hope you weren’t expecting to pull out."

Hearing those words is like a shot of adrenaline that makes you pound into her cunt with everything you have, burying your cock balls deep with every long, powerful stroke. 

“Not a fucking chance, Minju. I’m pounding this perfect cunt until I fuck a load inside you.” 

There’s a devilish grin on her face when she hears that, legs tightening to make you backup your words, her dripping pussy clenching harder as if trying to coax that load out sooner. “With how deep you’re fucking me, you better not do anything else.” 

Through all these harsh thrusts, and the rough pistoning of your hips, you need to pull back every once in a while. Only so you can have the perfect view of Minju's body covered in more sweat than before, even more irresistible to not lick the side of her neck, savoring every little taste you can get. 

And the noises she makes only get filthier the harder your hips move, the best encouragement for you to bury your face into the crook of her neck as her beautiful legs keep your body hostage. This pounding is everything you’ve needed, keeping Minju breathless in her moans, a symphony of pleasure that gets siphoned right in your ears.

“This is how I’m going to destroy your cunt when I fuck you. Every single time. Your pretty pussy won’t go a day without getting a huge fucking load inside.” 

“Yeah? You promise?” Minju asks, and you’re fucking her so well, so hard, that she’s getting delirious. “There’s nothing better than getting a nice, thick load filling me up first thing in the morning.” 

That’s all the motivation you need to keep this train of pleasure going. 

Minju can feel it. She can feel how your thick cock twitches with every deep stroke, the pleasure becoming far too much for you to bear. At the tail end of an especially harsh thrust, she wraps her arms around your neck and holds tight, not leaving an inch of space between the two of you while you drill as hard as your hips allow. "Please, I'm going to cum. Keep fucking me, please keep fucking me like this…"

The begging flows freely right into your ears, and these desperate pleas offer another wave of encouragement that pulls you closer and closer to release. And it’s not like you can do much at this point but keep your hips moving, while Minju clings to you, limbs coiled like she never plans on letting you escape.

“Don't stop—I'm going to cum so fucking hard!" Minju cries out, and there's no need to hold anything back as she chases after that release. 

Wanting to speed this up, your lips latch onto Minju's sweaty neck, planting sloppy kisses that make her walls flutter, spilling more wetness while you crash your hips into her. Her thighs can’t stop quivering, breathing frantically until that intense orgasm is almost in range, back arching up in time for the final waves of bliss to crash into her. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ A litany of curses leaves her mouth , filling the room, and then Minju tightens her hold as these messy juices gush all over your cock, unleashing the most unrestrained orgasm of her life that erupts in her body. Through it all, her warm cunt spasms, convulsing, these drenched walls constricting so hard to the point where there's no other alternative than to paint her insides a creamy white. 

“Cum in me, fuck—oh my god, I want it all, fill my fucking pussy,” Minju begs and pleads, her trembling legs with a death grip around your waist. And then she cries out in loud, incoherent moans, only managing to spill out one more thing: "Fucking breed me—"

There’s absolutely nothing that can prepare you for the feeling when you unload inside. Your climax explodes into Minju without warning, several thick spurts of cum flooding deep within her cunt, warm walls squeezing to milk it all out of your balls. Each violent throb is a fresh surge that sends an extra big mess of thick seed into her pussy, an increasing fullness that clings inside while your pulsating cock empties this massive load into Minju. 

During this intense orgasm, Minju’s alluring legs lock you in place, guaranteeing you can't pull out for a second, not until all your pleasure reaches its apex. 

You might be here forever, you think, trapped inside this warm paradise, but you’d be more than happy to never move another inch inside Minju all night. While she basks in the obscene pleasure of her cunt now full to the brim, you can only move enough to pump your load deep, deeper inside her until it finds her womb. 

"That's a lot of cum," Minju says, and she looks absolutely delighted at the mess you've made inside her, like she’s accomplished something grand just by making you explode inside her cunt. 

You have a feeling a hot load inside Minju will be a common sight as coffee being brewed, and it’s almost like she hasn’t drained you once already with this load that’s promising to make a mess whenever it spills out. 

“So, how about that shower,” you suggest, even while Minju hasn't even released the hold from your body yet. She doesn’t have the slightest intentions of getting cleaned up anytime soon, wanting to let this high linger a while longer. 

“Like you said—the shower can wait.” 

There’s never been a better idea. 

"Yeah, it can wait." 

You share a tired kiss as Minju keeps you close, bodies sticky as her limbs finally uncoil and relax. It’s near impossible to not collapse on her from exhaustion, but from the way she gazes at you with thirst lingering in her eyes, there's no such thing as rest. Not when you have this endless freedom to use her as your own personal toy.

When you do eventually pull out, leaving Minju with all of your cum pumped into her tight little cunt, there’s nothing but gratitude on her face to see the results leak out. And when she grabs your cock that’s more than a little sensitive, to give these weak little pumps, you don't have the strength to beg her to stop.

“Minju—“ It feels more like she’s teasing you, rather than attempting to get you back into a proper state of arousal with such lackadaisical motions. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you again?"

“Hmm, maybe,” Minju says, giving you a fleeting glance, and doesn’t mouth anything else, like she’s trying to demonstrate that you can recover earlier than you think, wanting your balls to fill back up sooner than later. “Seems like you might have one more in you…” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

With whatever energy is left, you put it into kissing Minju, to explore these lips that haven’t even gotten half the attention deserved. Also as a poor excuse to extend the time you’ll need to recover. Neither of you have any intention of going anywhere during this lazy make-out session, and even while you’re both covered in fluids, you’ll kiss Minju until your jaw hurts. 

“Not bad,” Minju says, a sudden compliment as the kiss intensifies, until her hand slides between your legs to keep pumping your cock, ensuring not a single inch softens. 

“Which part?” you ask, not that you’re particularly interested in anything other than dominating this lip embrace.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she teases, while you plant these light kisses that purposely miss her lips. “But… the part where you’re good at kissing me. And the part where you came inside me. ”

“Sounds like you want more.” 

“Yeah… maybe….” 

“Then consider me convinced,” you say, helping her stand upright, and lead her towards the bathroom—leaving the remnants of your messy load that leaks out of her pussy all over the couch. That’s a problem for another time.

The walk to the bathroom is short, but still gives you plenty of time to stare at Minju’s tight butt, and the mess that clings to her glistening thighs. One of the best features of this apartment is how spacious the shower is, more than enough to fit a second person—or a third, if you were so inclined. 

But neither of you are interested in the shower. 

Minju leans over the sink to check herself out in the mirror, running fingers through her hair to somewhat put herself back together. Staring at her own reflection puts a grin on her face, proud of how disheveled she looks, while also noticing the dark mark in the shape of your lips on her neck.

“You know, I forgot to pack a toothbrush,” she says out of nowhere, attention turned away from herself to the contents of the sink. 

“I can buy you one in the morning.” 

You lean in closer, and your hands snake around Minju’s perfectly slim waist, eager to feel up her tight abdomen once more. That mark on her neck is like a target, and when you take a deep inhale of her intoxicating scent, you make sure to cover her neck in kisses that make her giggle. 

“You came in my mouth. I think you’ll live if we share a toothbrush for one night.” Minju rolls her hips back, grinding against your erection to reawaken your cock back to full strength. These little kisses turn more lustful as she turns her head to connect lips with you for a more sloppy, wet, all-consuming embrace. 

“Fair point.” 

Your hands are far too greedy at this point to do anything but grope Minju’s naked body. The touch of her smooth skin reinvigorates you, sending blood back into all the right places, something that’s blatantly obvious to this naked girl in front of you. 

“I can feel how hard you are again,” Minju mutters, with this shy little expression on her features that’s so out of place. She pushes away from the sink, pressing her lithe figure back, and it's hard not to picture fucking Minju here, slamming your hips hard enough between her shapely cheeks to ripple them. 

“Yeah? Wonder whose fault that is...” The idea becomes more concrete when you squeeze that supple ass, your greedy fingertips sinking into the tender flesh, like her backside was made for your palm to smack as you get in a few light slaps that echo. 

“Do you think my cock will fit in here?” 

Spreading her round cheeks, you get a glimpse at how her puckered hole twitches, already craving you inside it. That bubble butt is absolutely perfect in your hands, and it’s no trouble at all to spread Minju open, as you wonder how it’ll feel to rub your cockhead against her tightest hole. 

"We can always find out.” Minju gets this sultry tone in her voice, hands lingering on the cool countertop as she bends over even further, her ass imploring you to fill that hole. It makes it hard to stay focused with this perfect cunt and tight little asshole both accessible, but there’s only one problem—

“It’s a shame the lube is in the bedroom. And I can’t be bothered to take my eyes off this tight little ass.” 

"Tease.” 

“I would never.” 

There’s nothing in reach that’s anything but a poor substitute, but you’re not going to walk away for something in your nightstand when you’re throbbing so much between the cheeks of such a perfect ass. So, regrettably, you'll have to postpone your plans to pound Minju's ass. It’ll make it worth the wait that much more. 

Without another word, you guide your length back into her warm little pussy, grabbing her curvy hips to slide back in. 

“Oh fuck— ” When your hardened shaft plunges deep between her legs, Minju nearly collapses over the sink. Her hot cunt feels more than ready for you, all this wetness pooled that’s infused with the creamy mess you left earlier staining her walls. 

The second your hips move, those pretty fucking moans from Minju have no trouble echoing around the walls. Her seductive stare beckons you to fuck her like the toy she promises to be, to use her until she can’t take anymore—a temptation too sweet to turn down. 

"Just like that, your cock is so good, god—just ruin me, fuck, please—“ Minju’s eyes widen from how hard you start slamming into her. This time, there’s absolutely no chance to adjust, nothing less but an incessant replay of your hips as you sink into the hilt, pounding her like the warm, wet, wonderful cocksleeve that she is, getting those heavenly walls stretched out all over again.

With no restraint in your thrusts, you can truly pound this tight pussy without mercy. The warmth that smothers your cock, how slick her pussy has gotten—god, it feels so fucking good that you don't ever want to stop, even after you pump another hot load.

“That's it, right there—right there, harder," she says with these breathless whines that are nothing more than unabashed encouragement. Fingers trembling, they dig into the porcelain of the sink, making the entire bathroom resonate with the harsh, wet smacks of flesh colliding together, in unison with each thrust. "Use that pussy—fuck, make me take it all, use me, god, use me, fucking use me—“

Those words, they make it so easy to do so, to keep up these thrusts, to just ram your cock into this hot little cunt that’s aching to be full, clenching down around you like it'll never let go.

And this ass—Minju’s got a perfect fucking ass, that you're already fantasizing about plowing. There's just no end to how much it bounces, the erotic jiggle that fuels your need to smack your palm against it, leaving red marks that'll stay on that pale flesh. 

"You're so fucking wet for me, Minju, god,” you groan out, pulling your cock out just so you can admire all the slick coating every single inch, before shoving it right back in. Minju bites down on her lip, trying to contain her moans with this near blush on her face from enjoying the rough treatment of her body far too much, moaning in bliss every time your thrusts make her hips jerk against the sink. 

“I just can’t help it. Your cock is too fucking big, my little pussy just loves it.” These constant smacks, they make her cunt clench, the pain forming additional pleasure. After your next heavy slap on her ass, your free hand ventures up her bare back, caressing along her spine in a gentle touch. But that gentleness doesn’t last when your fingers form a fistful of Minju's silky black strands—and a firm tug lifts her back so she's staring right into her reflection.

There's something to be said about being able to see Minju's pretty face as you wreck her body. All these priceless reactions she can't hide as she watches herself getting ravaged in the mirror that her hot breath fogs up. It’s an image you’ll never forget. 

You keep a tight handful of hair, each tug and yank rewarded with another moan, and she can barely even keep her eyes open, drunk on bliss as you dominate her body with every powerful plunge of your cock into that drenched warm flesh. 

Minju, through all these rough pumps and strained moans, can hardly keep up. Scrambling to keep a hold of the sink for dear life, she braces for each punishing stroke that reaches into her depths, your deep, rough thrusts that only grow in ferocity as you're both on the cusp of another release.

"Almost there, god—you're so deep, gonna cum so hard," Minju groans out as a euphoric wave hits her body with no chance of escape. "Make me cum on your big fucking cock—make me cum, oh fuck!"

That’s the only warning you’ll get. When the arrival of her violent climax hits, it gets her legs trembling, that sweaty body so close to collapsing that it leaves you to support all her weight as her toes curl into the bathroom rug, walls clamping down around your cock so snug it makes you grit your teeth. You fuck her right through this tsunami of pleasure, hips maintaining the same brutal pace, following the same path she takes until you’re nearly at the boiling point. 

“Minju,“ you growl, and there’s little else that needs to be said to know where this is headed. 

This isn’t asking for permission, but rather giving a final notice that this thick load that’s about to leave your balls desperately needs somewhere to go.

“Where?” Minju asks, struggling to get one little syllable out, and the question lingers as you get your final thrusts in. Without a response, you stare at the reflection in the mirror, pounding into this unbelievably tight girl with everything you have left to offer, until the last possible moment—

“Get on your knees.” 

Pulling out proves to be a challenge, but you've got plans that demand it as you give Minju enough time to collapse down without a shred of resistance, and you can already tell this is going to be a messy finale. The moment her knees touch the cold tile floor, you grab a hold of that gorgeous hair as you furiously stroke yourself in front of her face, squeezing your length that feels absolutely primed to erupt.

You let out a guttural groan of relief when you start to unload all over Minju's pristine features, this massive jet of hot, sticky seed that she doesn’t even flinch at as it lands square in the middle of her forehead, streaking down her cute nose. Your uncontrollable load blasts everywhere, across those pretty pink lips, splattering across cheek to rosy cheek while she stays perfectly still, letting you paint her like the masterpiece she is. 

It just gets everywhere. The beautiful canvas that is Minju’s face, it’s an absolute mess, cum dripping down her chin, a stray strand landing in her hair, more running down the bridge of her nose as you pump it all out and glaze her.

There's just so fucking much that it has Minju looking at you through this hot mess in a stunned silence, wondering how you even managed to have that much pent up inside—this load that has no right being so huge that you almost feel inclined to apologize. But this is really her doing, this sinful body of hers to blame for such a gratuitous payload. 

"There you go, all over this pretty little face," Minju says as she stares in awe, bewildered by how much of you she’s covered in. Your massive load drips down her lips as her tongue catches it, and not a single drop goes to waste. “How do you still have so much—didn’t you just finish inside me?” 

That’s a really good fucking question.

 One without an answer as Minju gives you a long lick of your cockhead before taking it back in her mouth, sucking the rest of you clean with a satisfied hum as it continues to drip down her face. 

“Well—only have you to blame, fuck,“ you groan, and you might just pass out with the way Minju refuses to let that hot mouth off you. “Yeah, this is definitely all your fault. 

Nothing but elation etches Minju’s face when she kisses the tip of your cock one last time, her gratitude for your cum written on her lips. Using a couple of fingers, she cleans up by swirling cum around her lips until it coats her fingertips, then puts them in her mouth, licking them clean, giving an audible slurp as she sucks every last drop down.

Maybe it’s about time for that shower. 

That is, if you could only move. Because even though the shower is only inches away, it might as well be in a whole different neighborhood with how weak and heavy your legs feel. There’s no time to rush, and you don’t mind a few more lingering moments seeing your messy load dripping across this girl. 

“You’re so pretty, Minju.” 

Minju only smiles with those cum-stained lips as the hot water starts. 

✦ ✦

Over the next few days, you’ve gotten quite comfortable fucking Minju on the regular.

This little arrangement already has lived up to its potential, and you wonder how you were ever reluctant about having a roommate—especially with these benefits. The only possible complaint you have is that there just aren’t enough hours in the day to spend balls deep inside Minju. 

There’s no routine to it. When the mood hits. When the clock ends in a seven. When you’re waiting for leftovers to heat up, you’ll seek out Minju to suck your dick, or bend her over whatever surface is closest. 

And it never gets old. 

During work, she’ll sit on your lap, keeping you company during a dull day with your cock all nice and warm inside her, like this little office pet of yours that knows the right moments to keep quiet. In between meetings, you'll bend her over the desk and pump that tight little cunt full of another thick load that she’ll keep inside while she goes to prepare lunch. 

It’s not unusual to be on a video call with a client, with Minju sucking you off underneath the desk, keeping her sloppy mouth on your shaft all the while you carry on business. And the best part—she’ll straddle you, right on top of your office chair, bouncing up and down on your cock with a dozen or so other coworkers on a conference call who are none the wiser. 

Minju is well aware what time you wake up, so almost every morning before you've even tossed the sheets off, she knows exactly what you'll want—a warm mouth deepthroating your cock without being told. 

Later that afternoon, there’s a new book to immerse herself in as she finds her favorite spot to cozy up in when you unbutton her jeans, slipping them off to spread those long, smooth legs so you can feast on her delectable pussy. Minju reads as if nothing is happening, like you don’t have your tongue buried in her cunt, warming up her tight little entrance just enough to slip your cock inside her without distraction. You don’t want to break her concentration too much, so you try your best not to make much noise, but well, it can’t exactly be helped when she feels so fucking warm and wet inside. 

The only acknowledgment given is these subtle moans that slip out when you get every inch of your cock in her, hands holding that narrow waist with a tight, unrelenting grip. But Minju, she’s too lost in this completely different world while you fill her up so perfectly, not even looking up as you fuck her. 

And honestly, sometimes that’s for the best—being able to use her while she’s preoccupied, without either of you muttering a word as you slide balls deep into her incredibly warm cunt. It doesn’t mean, though, that you can’t challenge yourself to get a moan out of her. 

When you inevitably cum inside Minju, a faint smile creeps up on her lips. Otherwise, she doesn’t say a word, turning more pages while you pump a hot mess inside her. She only takes notice of the steady flow of cum inside once you exit her warmth, one hand playing with your load and pushing it deeper into her messy folds, while the other hand continues reading her book. 

The following day, as the coffee brews, your roommate is already on her knees, and you’re fucking her face so roughly that tears stream down her cheeks while she gags around your cock. There’s not any makeup yet on that gorgeous face to ruin, but Minju guzzles down your load and goes about making breakfast, like it's all part of her routine. 

First thing, the next morning during work, you’re railing Minju in your office chair, with her gorgeous, sexy legs perched on your shoulders while you’re taking a short break from another tedious conference call. At this rate, your flimsy chair might give way before either of you cum, but that doesn’t matter too much—you can get your work to buy another one. 

You’re absolutely not paying attention to anything but the pleasure of Minju's tight cunt. 

The breathless moans from her lips are a much better alternative than whatever monotonous voice through the speakers drones on about spreadsheets and analytics. Even though your job doesn’t require you to step inside an office often, your cock buried inside Minju is the only way you can survive these remote meetings—but you continuously double-check that the camera is off and the microphone is muted. That’s a mistake you’ll only let happen once. 

Now that you have Minju all to yourself once the call ends, you lift her body up into the air, cock still buried, and impale her pussy just as hard as before while her legs wrap around your waist. 

She feels so small as you bounce her frame up and down, this weightless girl that’s light as a feather. You could carry Minju around the apartment if you wanted, but this is far more satisfying, a test of how many times you can make her cum while holding her up in your arms, absolutely hammering into her soaking cunt until you fill her to the brim. 

Later on in the afternoon, you get the urge again (as you tend to do), and Minju is sitting comfortably on her bed, laptop out, concentrating on what you presume is finding her next paycheck. Once you walk in, the laptop lid shuts, and she takes those big, cute frames off and tosses them on her nightstand, leaning back onto the bed in anticipation. 

You feel guilty disturbing her search, but you're exhausted from a workday that isn’t even over, so this won’t take long. 

Discarding your pants, you climb onto the bed, hovering your crotch above Minju's face, and pull your cock out of your boxers, as you start to stroke in her direction.

The mere sight of that beautiful face is enough to help you get off without any trouble. A few final tugs and you're there, groaning her name as you spray a pearlescent mess all over her face, thick cum shooting onto her cheek, landing on those pretty lips, a line across her nose, some up the side of her forehead. The relief is instant, the stress of a long day fading away while Minju lies there for you to stare at, your cock resting against her lips as you milk out every drop.

"Thanks, Minju. I needed that," you sigh, taking one more look at your impressive handiwork. “Gotta get back to work now.” 

✦ ✦

Minju hasn’t forgotten to hold up her side of the bargain. 

She’s here to get her shit together, not be a freeloader. While she’s financially destitute at the moment, she pays rent in other ways. Ways that aren’t giving head during a movie or being your personal on-demand fucktoy. Almost every night, without fail, Minju cooks up a delicious meal (and she's equally talented at it as she is at sucking you off). She'll even bring dinner to your office if you're working late and forget to eat. Not only does she do the laundry but also keeps the apartment in order, replenishing the fridge whenever needed.

This all buys you more time to fold Minju in half and unload what feels like a week’s worth of cum onto her flat stomach.

So, it goes without saying that your apartment would be in much rougher shape without Minju. That she’s more than just a warm hole to fuck your load into. She's a pleasure to be around, an ear to vent your frustrations to, someone whose absence would leave a noticeable void. 

Sure, it’s nice to fuck Minju senseless whenever you’re all pent up, but having someone across the kitchen table to talk to during a meal, or someone to watch bad movies with on the couch is just as valuable. 

Which brings you to the here and now. 

It's early afternoon, after finishing a mountain of work, and you go looking for Minju to escape these four walls of your home office that feel like a prison. She’s in her bedroom, sorting through laundry, and stops what she’s doing when you enter. 

Because one glance and she already knows. 

Minju lies on her stomach while you stand in front of her bed, stroking her gorgeous face as she gazes up and gets your cock out. With just the lightest of strokes, her delicate hand pumps the length of your cock, bringing you to full arousal in no time. And once you are, you glide the swollen head of your shaft over her glossy lips, coating them in your glistening precum. 

"You always need my mouth so much, don't you?" she purrs, teasing your cock with her hot breath, tongue dancing across the sensitive underside.

Letting out these little gasps is the only thing you answer, unable to give a proper response as your shaft stiffens unbearably so against the wet tongue caressing you, then her lips part with no further need of words, and invite you to guide yourself into the warm heaven of her mouth. 

A full, deep sigh leaves as those beautiful lips envelop your swollen cockhead. And god, her mouth feels so perfect, so warm while you thread fingers through her hair, holding her in place. She drools down your length, giving more playful licks before starting to devour your length inch by inch, all the way until her nose is nearly pressed against your stomach. 

"Minju—this pretty fucking mouth—fuck," you moan, just relishing her slow, steady bobs as she takes you deep, all of you inside her wet throat, looking right up at you. She savors your taste before saying anything else, lips popping off your shaft with trails of spit down her chin. 

"It feels so good, right? My pretty mouth wrapped around you,” she murmurs, spitting on your throbbing shaft to get it even more glistening, stroking it, rubbing that little sensitive sweet spot she knows you love. “Because your thick cock tastes so fucking good." 

That warm, talented mouth returns, swallowing you whole in one go, and you’re tempted to just fuck her throat to completion—but this blowjob isn't meant for the finish line, even as Minju eagerly deepthroats your length, craving to milk out a load from your balls as soon as possible. 

“Minmin, I—really need to fuck you." There’s a pause in her sloppy movements, to acknowledge the nickname you've called her, like she wants to hear it again. In this moment, you let Minju's warm mouth work her magic on your throbbing shaft, indulging in the sinful slurps she makes, as her tongue lavishes your cock until there’s not a single inch unexplored. But as good as her mouth is, it’s not enough—you need to be elsewhere, somewhere warmer, much tighter, to really satiate this appetite. 

“Stay right fucking there.” 

Minju obliges, staying flat on her stomach, and awaits what’s next with this innocent look full of curiosity as you approach from behind. And while she’s still got on all these bothersome clothes, you quickly rectify that, unbuttoning and tugging her jeans down to her ankles to grant a path to that delicious-looking cunt. 

When you climb on top of Minju, her pussy glistens in anticipation. It takes only a few shallow thrusts to bury your needy cock to the hilt, letting out a strained groan when you're fully sheathed inside her tight warmth. Her little whimpering cries tell you she needs this as much as you did, as her wet folds greedily pull you in, demanding more and more. 

“Oh god, fuck, you fill me up so well,” Minju moans, as you start pounding her tight cunt without warning. No teasing, no mercy. Nothing but a rough, relentless fuck that leaves both of you breathless as she takes every inch, laying idle to accept it all.“Please, just—fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can.” 

Pressing your whole body into Minju's slender figure, you pound away with no restrictions, relishing this prone position that lets you get as deep into this welcoming heat as you please. “Oh my god, Minju—your pussy is—un-fucking-believable."

Here, you can dominate Minju without restriction, and she takes it as well as you imagine. A shuddering groan leaves her lips every time your hips collide, when you plow into her at this rapid pace. While she usually can’t stay quiet while you're balls deep in her, all of a sudden Minju goes silent, not letting a single syllable slip as you ram her cunt with such unforgiving thrusts.

“Hey, uh—“ Minju breaks the silence as you keep her tight frame pinned into the mattress, going as hard as your hips will allow. “Do you mind not cumming inside me this time?” 

Your body takes a pause, and your hips slow down as you register her words. There’s only one instinct, and that’s to empty inside her like usual. It's become so natural that hearing her suggest anything else makes it feel… wrong.

“Asking a lot here, Minju. Do you want me to stop breathing as well?” The audacity of this request when you’ve gone all out at it from the get-go. It’s so sudden and unexpected, because Minju’s the first to beg and beg for you to breed her. 

“It’s just once. I have an interview in half an hour, so I’d rather not have to shower again.” 

She’s really asking for the impossible here. 

“But then I can fuck you again in the shower…” you say amidst all this intense fucking, but the look Minju flashes back tells you that isn’t the answer she wanted. So while Minju’s taking you so hard and fast during this rough fucking, with your full weight on her as you’re pounding away in her slick heat, your cock so eager and ready to explode, yet somehow, you’re expected to pull out—

“Fine. But only this once.” And you can’t believe that you’ve agreed to this the moment those words slip out. 

“Hey, you can still cum in my mouth,” Minju says with this proud tone, like it’s any consolation. “I’ll make it worth your while when I come back. Promise. I owe you.” 

You’re never one to doubt Minju, but this is one big favor she’s going to have to pay back, with interest. Even so, a sigh of frustration escapes your lips when you pull out, flip Minju on her back, and straddle her chest to finish yourself off. 

When you shoot your hot load into her mouth, painting her waiting tongue and lips in these white streaks, it’s a relatively weak and unfulfilling climax in comparison. Despite that, Minju’s still happy to take it, to swallow it all down greedily, like she’s dying for a second one that there’s no time for. 

“Good luck,” you mumble out with a strangled breath as Minju slurps your cock clean with her hungry lips. You can see a mix of satisfaction and disappointment etched on her face that mirrors you, because you both know that load belonged in her pussy. 

“Thank you. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Then you can breed me as many times as you want.” 

✦ ✦

Minju has spoiled you to no end. 

There isn’t a single day when she doesn’t so much as wish good night without draining your balls. Whether you prefer a quick, sloppy blowjob, railing Minju from behind, or watching her fit body do all the work, riding until you finish deep inside her, she doesn’t head to bed without you filling her up.

It’s routine to fuck a load into her first thing in the morning, whether she's brushing her teeth, putting on makeup, or simply eating breakfast. 

This agreement, it's been long enough that you no longer feel the apprehension about using Minju, no qualms about spending every morning with her lips on your cock, to spend afternoons with her face in the couch cushions, drilling her wet little hole while she answers her phone to respond to appointments and interviews.

Nearly two hours pass before Minju returns. The door closes shut with an exhausted sigh, and she sets down her bag, kicking off her heels, and takes a seat right next to you on the couch.

“How did it go?” 

Minju doesn't have an immediate answer. Her focus is elsewhere as she stretches her legs across your lap, settling into a more comfortable position on the couch before responding.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe it went well. Maybe it didn’t. I think they liked me—but that doesn’t mean I’ll get the job.” 

There's a certain hesitation when she answers, like there’s more she wants to talk about but chooses not to. You know firsthand how taxing these interviews can be, as you’ve been on both sides of them, especially for Minju, who tries to look as flawless as can be, only to be passed over because her resumé isn't a mile long. 

“If you don’t, then it means they picked the wrong person.” 

Minju smiles shyly before her eyes drift away. Now, it feels strange to watch someone so usually full of confidence look so unsure of herself. But she shakes that off quickly, like that self-doubting voice doesn’t belong to her, reverting back to that same bright expression. “Whatever happens happens. I'm just thankful you're letting me stay here practically rent free.” 

“Well, you can stay as long as you need. Even if you find a job, there's no need to rush out. This place would be too quiet without you around."

In her black pleated skirt, Minju climbs up and straddles your lap. She leans in and presses her soft lips on your own in a quick kiss, making no attempt to hide her affection.

“So. I owe you a promise."

The insinuation hangs heavy on her words as a shameless smirk takes over her lips. Even after the stressful events earlier, Minju never misses a chance to satisfy your desires, so quick to change from this somber tone into her role as your plaything, like a switch being flipped. 

“If I remember correctly… you keep your lube in the bedroom drawer, right?” 

You’ve done almost everything to Minju; fucking her brains out in every corner of every room, in practically every position imaginable, yet you've done almost nothing to appreciate her exceptional ass. At the bare minimum, you've enjoyed the sight of those perfect plump cheeks as she endlessly rides your cock, but aside from giving them a firm squeeze or some light spanks, it hasn't had the attention it deserves. 

While you have this insatiable hunger to wreck her ass, this is still entirely uncharted territory. So you respond to Minju with a silent nod, getting your hands on her underneath her skirt, grabbing that taut butt through her thin underwear to enjoy this divine handful. 

“I’ll go get it,” Minju offers with a lingering kiss to your cheek, but you grab her wrist to stop her path before she can get off your lap.

“Not yet.” 

Your hold on Minju doesn’t falter as you knead her asscheeks, not willing to part yet. ”Stay here. So I can see how pretty you are.”

Those cute pink cheeks that you covered in your load earlier now have a rosy tint as she looks up, letting you savor this moment a little longer. Your mind races with all the things you’ve yet to do, this perfect hourglass body that’s yours to explore, to use, to do whatever you can imagine. Yet, there’s only one thing you haven’t done to this beautiful girl, one place your cock hasn’t had the pleasure being in—

“What was it you wanted? To see if your cock would fit in my ass?” 

There’s no need for this extravagant fantasy to drag on, so you lift her up still with a firm grip on her ass, and bring her into your bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Minju.” 

“Me neither.” She sits in your lap as she admits, and with your arms propped back against the mattress, you watch Minju with unwavering attention. 

Every button on her blouse gets undone one by one, tantalizingly slow until it falls open to reveal more pale skin that complements the pink lacy bra you've bought for her. Once that comes off, you take in all that wonderful skin, drinking in those breasts that spill out, and her tight tummy that you've painted with so many loads already. 

“Now the skirt,” you tell her, and Minju flashes a smirk at your impatience. But she obeys, gets off your lap, unzips, then lets the garment fall down those smooth thighs until it lands in a pile around her feet, leaving Minju standing before you in only matching pink lace.

Before her underwear comes off, she spins on her heels to show off this perfect little ass in front of your face, bending over so you can take in the sight of those ample curves that frame your view so nicely. "Care to do the honors?" 

The answer is obvious. 

Giving those cheeks a nice little smack, you hook a finger under the waistband of her thong and slowly peel this little pair of lace down, leaving no detail of her round, scrumptious cheeks unseen, and exposing this tight little asshole you're dying to stretch.

"Hey—are you just going to stare all day, or are you going to put your cock in my ass?”

A difficult choice for sure—with the latter infinitely more enticing. Minju answers the question for herself as you stay perched on the edge of the bed, your focus never shifting from that delicious backside. She heads towards the bedside table, opening a drawer to fetch something. When she returns, you’ve matched her state of undress, getting your own clothes off in a flash. 

Bottle in hand, her gaze trails down your body to see this aching hard length that needs somewhere to sink inside; the sight making her salivate as she reaches for your shaft and pours a generous amount of lube into her hand.

Minju coats your entire cock in the cool, slick lube that only heats up once her hand pumps it, leaving every single inch drenched. This liquid has other plans too, slicking up her fingers before they slip between her own asscheeks, spreading herself and working the lubed digits inside her puckered hole in preparation for what's next.

“You look like you're ready to tear me open," she says, eyes widened at the sight of your big, thick cock, all lubed and primed for her asshole. This isn't an exaggeration as you lie back, watching the beautiful body of Minju straddle over your hips, hovering above you until she finds the right position.

"And you look like you can't wait to have this entire cock inside you."

"Of course I can't," she breathes out, lining you up with her tight asshole. One deep breath later, and she lowers down on you, trying to breach through that taut ring of muscle. You’re not sure how even a single inch plans to fit, and already it feels like it's stretching her beyond what's reasonable. Regardless, Minju still lets out these desperate moans as she tries to work your cockhead inside. 

“Shit, oh fuck—" Minju swears this isn’t her first time taking something up there, but with how tight this ass is, you’re not sure that you believe her.

The intense stretch has Minju crying out in bliss, doing all the work as she takes it nice and slow at first. Her fingers find her plump cheeks, spreading them just a little wider so she can fit more of your girth in. You can feel the desperation, that she really does want more of your thick cock buried in her asshole, and you’re aching to make her take your entire shaft with one swift drop of her hips—but she can barely manage your tip.

"You're really getting all in my ass, aren’t you?” she says with a moan, and you’re getting too impatient with the tease of this tight, gripping warmth as more of you sinks into Minju, disappearing past her puckered rim.

Minju puts in all this effort to take more, but there isn’t enough resistance in your muscles to just sit back and enjoy it. Patience thrown away, your own hips rise to meet her halfway, unable to keep your body from moving at all, getting a good grip as you guide her down, bit by bit.

"Keep going, Minmin, that's it," you encourage, and she does her best to obey, lowering her ass until she has almost every inch of you buried. That final push makes her cheeks come in contact with your balls, and her eyes shoot open.

"Oh fuck, oh my god—" Minju sounds so strained and overwhelmed that it almost sounds painful, but her nails only dig into your thighs, anchoring herself to keep you balls deep in her asshole as she looks over her shoulder to reassure you that she's content being this full. 

It takes a few deep breaths before she's ready for more, to get herself accustomed to having you so deep inside, before beginning to ride your cock with this tight, slick hole. All of this warmth around you, this ass, this tight little ass of hers feels like heaven, clenching around you. Minju can’t stop bouncing herself on you, ass smacking down on your thighs as she fucks your cock into her, impaling herself again and again.

"That's it, that's it—this big fucking dick. It's so deep.” Minju groans through ragged breaths, keeping the tempo until her hips move faster. She keeps riding, bouncing that tight little ass of hers, addicted to stretching that hot little hole wider as it accepts every single inch of you.

Your cock, her ass, there's no better combination. 

It's an amazing view, watching that asshole get stretched open, so wide around your shaft while her own hand wanders between her legs. This impossible tightness encourages you to thrust into her, drilling your cock, wanting to get in even deeper than humanly possible. 

You know that Minju can manage on her own, but your greed takes over as you lean her body back, hooking your arms under her knees, and pin them to her chest with your cock still inside her ass. Now it's her turn to let you take over, stretching her wider so she can really feel this deepness inside, opening her up in new unimaginable ways. 

The new angle offers much deeper thrusts, with you holding her weight, wrapping your arms behind her neck and slamming up into Minju with little regard for how wrecked she’ll get, balls deep with every drop of your hips against hers.

"Fuck, please—keep, oh shit!" Her voice sounds so fucked out, the delirium taking over her as your cock fills her, every last inch stuffed to the hilt. And the sounds Minju makes during this assault on her ass are unreal, deep whines ripped right out, fucking your entire length at the fastest pace you can into this tight asshole. 

"Your ass loves taking this fucking cock, doesn't it, Minmin?" You barely have it in you to speak at all, and all Minju can offer is another desperate whimper, unable to voice anything beyond swears at how full her tight hole is with your cock. 

"Please, god—don't fucking stop, don't you dare stop fucking my ass—"

This poor, helpless thing that you take your lust out on, legs spread obscenely wide in a v-shape position you've folded her in just pleads and cries for more. She’s unable to do much but take this pounding, and her mouth stays agape through your relentless thrusts, hammering into such a stretched, full, gaping hole.

Her flexibility comes in handy at times like these as she just lets you ruin her tight asshole without a care, feet helplessly dangling midair in the most pornographic display of carnal bliss, using her body to wring out every bit of pleasure. 

"Use me, oh my fucking god, please use my asshole until you fill it up."

As all those words spill out, there's no reason to fight it any longer as you fuck into Minju with reckless abandon, arms locking her in place to do as she asks, not daring to stop for any reason. With no end to your onslaught of violent thrusts, your balls begin to tighten, the start of an inevitable flood in her tight asshole. “So tight, fuck, gonna blow my fucking load right into your tight ass—“ 

Minju offers no response but her asshole clenching around your swollen shaft, urging you to release into her wrecked hole with everything you‘ve got, and nothing can stop this orgasm from building.

And with one last thrust, you can't hold back anymore. Buried deep, your release explodes into Minju, sending your seed shooting deep into her asshole as you fill her up to the brim with these endless spurts. Her desperate mewls escalate as her ass, this perfect, tight warmth milks your throbbing cock until your entire body shakes with pleasure, draining your entire heavy load into her tight little hole.

You savor this feeling, remaining balls deep into her ass, riding this high for as long as it’ll linger. You're breathless and panting when your grip eases, guiding Minju down as she topples onto her back, pressed up against your chest while your cock slips out of her ruined hole. Your thick seed oozes right out of that tight ass, dripping between her cheeks and leaking out onto your stomach, a beautiful mess of creamy white.

"Still had so much inside you," Minju gasps out, barely able to move a muscle after your merciless pounding. Her entire body stays limp on you, a satisfied wreck with cum still trickling out her ruined, gaped asshole. "I knew you would love my ass." 

“Best thing I’ve ever been inside in.” 

Neither of you has the will to move, staying like this just to catch a breath for a little bit longer, until she rolls off and shifts onto her side, tucking herself into your chest. Minju gives that smile of hers, the one where she's content that you enjoy her as much as you do. "I don't think I can walk out of here... "

"Then don't. You look good just where you are," you reply, glancing at Minju, who lets out a tired laugh at what an utter mess you both are. It's almost a guarantee that she’ll share your bed every night after you’ve made a mess inside her. She spends more nights with you than in her own bed, sleeping next to you, limbs tangled together under the covers. 

Other times, after a quickie before bed, Minju will keep you inside her, too tired to do anything but fall asleep in your arms with no urge to move an inch until the next day. It’s a nice tender moment through all this lust, the realization that she’s more than some mindless fuck whenever you need release. 

Maybe this arrangement has shifted into something more. 

And maybe you’ve really taken a liking to Minju. 

✦ ✦

“Yeah, it’s really nice here,” Minju says on the phone in her favorite pink pajamas during a video call from a friend. The TV plays low in the background as she gets comfortable all sprawled out on the couch, playing off the fact that she's been living at your place for nearly a month now. 

This temporary thing was supposed to be just that—Minju staying only until she could afford a place on her own, has now spiraled into something beyond that. Several weeks later, here she still is, wearing your oversized shirts to bed, shampoo and body wash occupying a lasting residence in your shower, and of course, her own toothbrush next to yours. 

And neither one of you is planning to change that.

Minju’s a near permanent addition to your household. While she's picked up some temp work to keep her bank account from reaching zero, you wouldn't exactly call her employed. Though that matters little; even if she doesn’t help out financially, she contributes in much better ways. 

"Hey! No, it’s not like that. No, I don’t, but I help cook, I clean, and I—“ Minju says in this exasperated tone when you join her on the couch. Cheeks growing red, she stays on the defensive, trying to starve off this teasing on the other end that you're attempting not to eavesdrop on.

"No, not like a maid. It's not—no, he isn't making me. Yuri-ya! I said we aren't together!” Minju almost forgets that you're sitting right next to her, remaining just as loud and whiny as she presses her knees into her chest, desperate to defend herself. 

Clearly, this isn’t a conversation you’re supposed to be a part of, so you should probably excuse yourself—but when you attempt just that, Minju pushes you back down with a bare foot from where you were rising, insisting you stay right where you are. 

"It isn't like that at all!" Minju pouts, and the camera captures every cute little flustered expression that makes her friend cackle. There isn't an ounce of persuasion behind those words as her friend shares in this same amusement with you, face growing more flustered by the second. Still, she remains steadfast to deny these accusations, holding you hostage to listen in by the pressure from her heel digging into your leg, pinning you there to hear these hearty giggles at Minju's expense.

You think you like this friend already. 

Minju is clearly more stubborn than she lets on when it comes to these matters, because Yuri refuses to back down. And well, if she wants you here, then you're more than willing to stick around—but you're not going to stay idle. 

"Okay, maybe once. But that was it. I swear," Minju defends, even if it's an obvious lie, and Yuri calls her bluff as her laughter continues from the other side. She's backed the poor girl into a corner, and you're somehow working together with this person that you've never met, all to make your mutual friend as bashful as she can possibly get. 

When Minju's bare feet land on your lap, it sparks an idea. Your thumb presses into the sensitive arch of her foot, massaging the targeted area with care, causing her eyes to plead not to escalate. 

"You've definitely hooked up more than once," Yuri insists, and you're unable to hide a smirk to see that you're on the same page. "There's no way it didn't happen again."

Minju’s got this ticklish spot that you once found by accident, and it’s so easy narrowing it down to send her into an uncontrollable giggle fit. The longer you linger over it, the more she tries to keep her mouth shut, eyes going wide as she panics when Yuri asks what's so funny. 

That's the opportunity for the killing blow as you press hard into the pads of her feet with both thumbs, overwhelming her as she struggles not to burst into laughter, which Yuri only sees as confirmation that she's right. 

"I knew it!" 

"S-seriously, nothing happened. Don't get the wrong idea…“

Minju’s never been a great liar, and it doesn’t help that she can’t hide her flustered reactions on screen. So rather than continue this drip feed of torture, you just spell the entire situation out for Yuri to understand—playing with the waistband of those cute pajamas, your intentions clear as day. 

“Hey, wait—the video is on!” Minju protests in disbelief as you threaten to yank her pants off her hips. But if she really doesn't want this, especially with Yuri there to watch, then all she has to do is say the word and you'll back off. 

"Then feel free to end the call…" 

But no, the truth is, Minju wants this.

Her eyes shift from Yuri back to you, a nervous look on her face—knowing exactly how this'll play out. All it would take is a second for the call to disconnect, one little goodbye, and you can do this privately. But when you work these pajama pants off past Minju’s hips, there's no such thing. Yuri remains right there on the call, watching on camera while you finish the job and strip your roommate below the waist, leaving her half-naked in the middle of this video call. 

There's a darker redness on her face, looking mortified to be exposed so easily in front of her unseen friend. She struggles for words, and you do the same to her upper half, unbuttoning her pajama shirt as you slowly peel it open, tossing it aside to leave this impeccable body entirely bare. 

With this display of her nude beauty, Minju stops any charade of denial the instant you slide a finger inside, and then a deep groan rolls from her lips at having your finger penetrate her in front of another person's eyes. 

"M-maybe it's happened more than a couple of times,” Minju admits, divulging this secret she no longer has the desire to hide. There's no point holding back, not when you're going to have her moaning on camera. 

"A lot more than that…" you say as you tease her tight entrance with another finger before your pants come off, hardness poking at your boxers until you toss them away as well.

"Hey!" Minju says as you spread open her gorgeous pussy with two fingers, exposing that warmth that's ready for you to sink into. "It's n-not a lot."

"Four times yesterday isn't a lot?" 

Minju just tries her best to not completely dissolve on camera at your immediate betrayal—but it’s not like she doesn’t want it either, as she guides the tip of your cock between the heat of her slit, teasing up and down before the inevitable push. 

“I knew it. Come on, no secrets," Yuri says on the other end as Minju lays there obscenely spread, already whining pathetically, when your throbbing cock demands to slip inside her warm, welcoming pussy. 

“Hey, if you’re going to watch—then no talking.” 

"Not another word,“ Yuri promises her, and that silence holds as you sink inside Minju, so deep and hot inside your roommate. 

A soft groan escapes from her the instant she's so deliciously stretched around your cock. With this additional pressure to perform for a new set of eyes, that makes the arousal much more palatable as you bury your full length into that slippery, wet warmth.

"Oh f-fuck, you feel so good," Minju whimpers, eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head. You can't help but bottom out in her cunt as she looks right into the camera, sharing this moment with Yuri who stays true to her word, not interrupting a second. 

All your initial strokes are anything but gentle, and Minju makes no attempt to keep any moans in that make it to the other side of the video call. It’s something so out of the ordinary, this girl that’s usually so timid, so reserved, watching her crumble underneath every deep pump, her folds absolutely dripping with honey to help guide the friction. 

Even so, it’s not quite enough. While this is all great and everything—it could be even better. You’re supposed to be giving Yuri a show, and you might as well give her a good one.

Minju has no complaints, only uninhibited deep moans when you lift her legs up, knees up right by her shoulders as you fold her up in such a vulgar display of her flexibility, plunging more of yourself to wreck this little hole. 

"So deep—fuck, I can feel you so deep in me,” she mutters out as she takes it all, barely able to hold her phone still in such a vulnerable position, utterly helpless while you're demolishing her tight little pussy with no mercy. You've done this to Minju more times than you can count, this perfect position designed to bottom her out in the easiest way possible—to fuck a massive load right into her pussy in no time. 

"It's so good, please, it's so fucking good—“ Minju becomes nothing more than a whimpering mess, head thrown back against the pillows as you keep pounding into her cunt, thrusting deeper in a rough, erratic pace that's more showing off than anything, and all she can do is keep taking it. 

It's just too easy to fuck Minju like a toy, especially when you've got a show to put on.

"Look at you taking me like this, Minju, oh my god," you groan, watching this warm little hole spread wider and wider around your throbbing cock as it disappears into her depths.

Her cunt feels tighter with each thrust, squeezing your shaft in a slick, unrelenting grip that brings you closer to the edge as she loses any semblance of decency. You don’t let up as she struggles to stay on camera, nearly dropping her phone while trying to hang on through all this ecstasy. 

“Keep going, oh fuck, keep pounding my fucking pussy,” Minju begs, and it's impossible to even focus with how deep her sloppy cunt swallows you back up inside. She lets out all these throaty, helpless moans from the animalistic fucking she's taking, perky tits bouncing from the force of you bottoming her out in front of her friend. 

And again, Yuri plays her part by being a viewer and nothing else. 

Minju, this wet little toy, lets you hammer into her cunt without remorse, and each impact of your heated bodies sends her jolting against the cushions, turning into such a lewd metronome. 

You're close, already so close—all thanks to those eyes of hers, filled with a desperate need to have you shoot your hot cum deep where it belongs. "I'm gonna fucking breed you, Minju—fuck, gonna dump this thick fucking load right in your cunt.”

Minju lets out a long moan of approval, equally on edge from having your shaft thrust right into her slick depths, ready for your balls to empty and pump her full of all your seed. 

“Give me that load, don’t cum anywhere but inside—“ That’s the last thing Minju says before this unavoidable release, face red from being so vulnerable on camera while her legs dangle up in the air, toes curling with every rough pump. 

You're so worked up that it doesn't take anything else but burying your cock into her sopping cunt one final time before you burst, unloading everything your balls have stored up. Your release triggers her own, that peak making her legs tremble in the air, writhing underneath your weight. Both of you let out a collective moan that competes in volume as your combined release gets milked into her womb, spurt after spurt until there's nothing left to empty inside of your roommate. 

Shallow thrusts drag out the pleasure, making sure not a drop of your load isn’t fully deposited inside Minju’s sticky folds until you stay there buried to the hilt. 

While you both pause to catch your breath, there's an unfamiliar satisfied moan of pleasure that you realize comes from Yuri on the other side of the phone call.

“F-fuck,” Minju breathes out, while you still have every inch throbbing inside her delicious warmth. ”Yuri, did you really just get off to this?"

"What? No, of course not," Yuri says, an unconvincing denial of a lie. "Maybe. Did you really expect me not to?"

Minju smiles as best as she can. "I can't blame you. God, there's just so much cum—he dumped his whole load inside me…" she says in smug satisfaction when you reluctantly pull out. 

Her poor little cunt is a wreck, all soaked in her own arousal and yours, this hot load eagerly dripping out onto the couch cushions while just laying there spread in such an obscene way, phone still in her hand, held out to display every detail.

Yuri doesn’t quite know what to say when she sees her friend like this, Minju the innocent angel being fucked absolutely senseless on camera, with a thick, creamy mess that oozes out between her legs.

"So, maybe we've done this a lot," Minju finally confesses to Yuri, who still struggles to respond to all this despite witnessing it moments ago. 

"Maybe?" Yuri replies. 

"Don't act all innocent now." Minju shifts her position on the couch to get a better angle, so the camera can get a good shot of the sticky semen running down her cunt. "You got off to it."

"Maybe. A little bit," Yuri admits, with a low voice shaky in response. "So what if I did?" 

“And maybe I jerk him off when I'm on the phone with you..." 

"Minju!"

With a hand covering her mouth, Minju laughs, unable to hold in her amusement. “You don't have to sound so ashamed. It's just you."

“That doesn't mean I need to hear this!" Yuri responds, the embarrassment coming through in her voice. "Oh my god, I can't believe I was talking to you like normal—while you were doing that? Ah, Minju!"

Minju's smile transforms into a devilish grin, enjoying every second of this like she’s earning revenge for Yuri’s earlier teasing. 

“Doing what, Yuri?"

“I—need to go, talk to you later, Minju!" Yuri stammers out, her cheeks brighter than a tomato. The video call immediately ends, with only Minju's soft laughter remaining in response. Looking at the end call icon on her phone for a moment, Minju sets it to the side on the coffee table, then lays her head back into the pillows.

“It's just you and me again," Minju says in her sweet voice, almost like she’s not the least bit exhausted after the rigorous fucking you've put her through. “What now?"

"Maybe we should clean this couch..." you answer, aware of the mess you and Minju have created all over her legs and the fabric, something that certainly can't be ignored.

"Later," Minju says, as if she could even care about that—at least for now. "Right now I need a shower. A nice long, hot one. Come join me. It's not fun washing off all by myself..."

Yet once again, neither of you make it to the shower. 

You follow her right into her bedroom, into the bedsheets that are still warm from earlier today. She doesn't have a chance to clean herself up, still dripping down her thighs when she pins you down into those same bedsheets and has you deep inside her in no time.

“Round two,” Minju says, as if it's not even a question, like this is how it’s going to go for the rest of the night.

“Minmin—wait. Give a guy a moment, fuck."

"No time to rest," she says, with another wicked grin on her face, and you're not used to being on the other end of this. You're the one that keeps the ecstasy going, the one that always makes the first move. This girl, she’s never been so forward like this before, not in the way she takes complete control, so shameless to get what she wants. Certainly not in the way that she grabs your arms and pins your wrists over your head with strength that you didn't realize she was capable of.

"I see why you like using me so much." 

Minju holds you down so tight that you can't even fight this. You're at her mercy now, pinned right under her in this vulnerable state with the weight of her body pressing into you while you can't help but feel like you’re the one who’s a little plaything.

And honestly, you like it.

"I get it now,” Minju purrs while you stay right under her control, a finger caressing the outline of your jaw. She has you helpless, completely trapped by this lust that's making you ache for more of what Minju's offering. "You know, I found a job. One of my friends recommended me, Hyewon. I think you’ve met her before. And it pays well. I'll be able to finally support myself. But you'll let me still stay here, won't you?" 

"Of course, Minju. You know I wouldn't—"

"Good," she says, cutting you off as if there's not any chance of rejection. "But I won't be around in the afternoon like before." 

Minju trails a finger right down the center of your chest, tracing circles along your abdomen. "So that means I'm going to need my fix every morning. And maybe even before I go to work, when I come to wake you up for me."

You've never seen Minju like this, so brazen with her desires as she tilts your chin up and makes you face her directly. 

"And as soon as I get home, I'm just going to jump on your cock for hours, until your balls overflow my little pussy again and again. How does that sound?"

"That—that sounds—"

"Great. It's settled then." Minju gives you the cutest smile as she kisses her way down your neck, lips lingering around your collarbone as she nibbles gently on the skin, leaving her mark. 

"Maybe it's a lot of fun being used by you. But maybe it's even better to use you, right?"

Biting her lip, she slides off your shaft that's still glistening in the mix of her mess and yours, leaving it throbbing in the air. "Oh my god, your poor cock. So fucking hard. And there's nothing you can do about it, huh? It must be torture for you. All this build up inside and nothing to take it out on."

"Minmin—"

"Now I understand—it’s so much fun to fuck you like a toy," Minju interrupts, right as she slaps your cock with her palm to watch you wince in response from how sensitive you are, doing it over and over again, these utterly relentless smacks that make every part of you quiver. 

"What's the matter? Don't wanna cum again?" 

Without waiting for a response, she slams back down on you, taking you to the hilt in one easy, fluid motion that doesn't leave you without her warmth for long. Even as spent as you are, Minju rides this aching cock of yours like it's the first time you've been inside her today.

"You’ve got my greedy little cunt addicted. I can't live without you filling me with this hot cum every single day. How many more times can I get you to breed me today? Three? Four? Maybe five?"

"Jesus, Minmin, please—" You groan at the thought. As much as you love finishing inside Minju, there's no way you'll be able to survive that—you're exhausted after this round and your body hasn’t gotten anywhere close to recovering. But she just carelessly continues, head thrown back in bliss as she fucks herself on you, spreading her walls that still drip with your load, and yet so needy to have another thick one fill her up to the brim once more.

"I can't wait to find out. You're not going to run out of cum, are you? No, I don't think your balls could do that. They're always so full, just for me, right? Maybe we'll have to keep going until we make sure."

You don't think your poor cock can stand that, but there's nothing to do but watch helplessly while Minju bounces on top of you, using you as nothing more than a toy—a nice hard cock that she can just ride into ecstasy over and over again.

And maybe you'll allow her to do just that.

---

No, I didn't finish writing this fic the day before realizing her birthday, shut up, this was definitely planned all along.

#BreedMinju

[grippingbeskar]

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch.2

Venus ° Lee Know

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY      wc: 2k give or take

Warnings: oral f receiving, fingering, inexperienced reader, experienced minho, aftercare??

The rest of the day with Chan was spent kissing and touching. The intrusion of his tongue in your mouth was thrilling, the drag of it down the skin of your neck was electrifying. His hands on you were gentle and soft but firm in their way, he made you feel safe and hot, a delicious mixture that heightened even more your attraction towards him.  Chan woke up something in you that you didn’t know you possessed, and by the state of him when you had to go home, dick hard, cheeks red and tousled hair, you seemed to have had an effect on him too.

Slick and arousal had soiled your underwear when you got home and you couldn’t help but get under the covers and slip a hand inside your pants, hoping your roommate didn’t hear you. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was his fingers tracing your slit and gently playing around with your pussy, it was his fingers circling your clit with precise movements. The orgasm that came out of your little self care moment was the strongest one you had ever experienced. Your pussy gushed and pulsed against your fingers. The moment you were done you passed out cold, tired from from the previous sleepless night.

When you awoke the sky outside was black and the city had quieted down significantly. 2 AM read your trusty clock. It was way too early to wake up so you let your eyes close and sleep pulled you into the void. Just as you were about to enter the land of dreams, a ping from your phone abruptly shook you awake.

Chris-py boy <3:

This is the list of the things you should know and which of the guys are gonna teach you. Think it over and let me know. Goodnight baby <3 (attached document)

You:

I don’t know Channie, the last one is a little much, but the rest is fine

Chris-py boy <3:

You don’t have to do the last one if you don’t want to, pretty. Think about it and let me know. What about Minho? Are you okay with that?

You:

I’m a little nervous because I don’t know Minho that much but I trust you, I know there’s a reason why you chose him. When are we going to meet?

A lump formed in your throat and butterflies filled your stomach (and your vagina).

Chris-py boy <3

He's very busy during the week between work and dance practice and classes but he’s available tomorrow afternoon if it’s not too early.

You:

No, tomorrow is fine

Chris-py boy <3:

Brave girl <3. Minho will text you tomorrow morning then, sleep well, pretty girl and let me know how he treated you after ;) 

You put the phone down with an ever growing feeling of pride in your chest.

‘You’re such a boss Y/N’

Waking up the next morning was traumatizing; your body was feeling all of the effects of a sleepless night, a special solo cardio session and your nervousness.Grogginess wouldn’t quite cut it, your whole body felt heavy with sleep and your mind was so foggy it was a miracle you remembered your name. The only thing that brought you out of your trance was your phone buzzing several times.

Unknown number: 3 messages

Chris-py boy <3 : two missed calls

‘Fuck what time is it? Did I sleep too much?’

Unknown number: Hi, it's Minho, are you okay with meeting at 4?

Unknown number: Wear something you feel comfortable in :)

Unknown member: Did you change your mind?

2 PM. The time on your clock almost sent you in a frenzy, you were finally getting laid for the first time and you overslept. Embarrassing, you thought to yourself.

You:

I didn’t forget, I’m sorry I was sleeping. 4 sounds perfect :)

Minho:

Don’t worry, I’ll be at your dorm around 4 then. Don’t worry too much, I’ll treat you well and you can always stop me at any time.

Minho’s words made you feel warm inside. He had always treated you nicely; always a polite gentleman, always opened doors around the guys’ dorm for you and every time you slept over and you walked around the kitchen with shorts, he would never let his eyes linger on your bare legs unlike Han. 

Just this once time was on your side. You had two hours to get presentable, take a shower and scrub furiously any sensitive areas, get dressed, do your skin care and hyperventilate in front of the mirror. The anxiety and nervousness that flowed inside your body were able to let you finish well in advance. Your feet moved on their own, you couldn’t stay still. If your bed could have talked, it would’ve cursed at you for constantly fixing the sheets and the pillows. It was a seemingly never ending cycle: walk around the bed, look at the sheets, fix the sheets, start walking again, only to do everything from the start. Right when you thought the floor would open up to swallow you whole, your phone pinged. You threw yourself on the bed to see the message.

Minho:

I’m outside, whenever you’re ready, take your time.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach, Minho was cute and nice and you were about to have sex with him. You felt beyond flattered. Without thinking too much, you got out of your room and sped to your door. Your hand wrapped around the door knob with a bruising grip and swung the offending piece of wood open. On the other side stood Minho in all of his beauty, and what a great beauty.

“Hi,” he spoke first and offered you a small sweet smile. You had never seen him smile like that and it made you warm inside once again, it also made your pussy slick in your panties. The fact that this gorgeous man wanted you even if you were completely inexperienced, the fact that you had that kind of power on him, it turned you on, more than a little.

“Come in.” Minho stepped inside your dorm room and closed the door behind him. His hand found yours naturally. 

“Can I see your room?” God he was so respectful and kind, you wanted him to absolutely destroy you. Instead of voicing your thoughts, you slowly walked him to your room, his fingers wrapped around yours still. Your tiny room seemed to shine the moment he stepped foot in it; each one of his movements seemed so natural and fluid that you had almost thought that he had already been in your room, already sat on your bed.

“Are you alright?” his voice was soft and sincere, you had never heard him speak like that to anyone. You just nodded and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Since this is your first lesson, I thought I could show you what pleasure is. Is that okay with you?” his words were so casual that you almost thought he wasn’t talking about sex. You nodded again.

“Use your words, pretty.”

“Yes, it's okay.” Minho hummed, his hand reached up to gently stroke your chin.

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes please,” it was barely above a whisper but less than a moan, nevertheless Minho heard you and his lips were on yours in a heartbeat. His kiss was different from Chan’s, he was more passionate, more intense, you could feel his mischievous side in it. His lips felt heavenly on yours, they were soft and skilled just like his hands.They move confidently on the curves of your body, from your neck to your back to your hips which he squeezed affectionately.

“Can I touch you, pretty?” you almost didn’t hear him, so focused on the sensation of his hands on you and his lips which had now moved to brush against your ear and the skin behind it. A shiver shook you from your head to your toes and your pussy throbbed. Never in your life had you been that worked up in so little time.

“Please, Minho, touch me,” your voice sounded strange to your ears, your tone was whiny and slightly petulant but Minho seemed to think otherwise. His pupils were fully blown, a twinkle of lust and mischief in his eyes; the more skin you let him touch the more his dick stirred in his jeans. The trust you had in him, they way you keened and wailed with simple touches, the blush that was creeping up your neck to your face and extended to your pretty tits; all of these elements made Minho crazy with want, he couldn’t think straight anymore and it was clear that you had stopped the moment he had put his lips on yours. 

In a matter of what seemed both seconds and hours you found yourself flat on your back, your dress pulled down to reveal your tits and the skirt pulled up with your panties dangling from one of your ankles.

“Hm, you have a pretty one,” Minho hummed. It was taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy and messily eat you out until you were shaking and crying from overstimulation, but this was your first time and he had to contain himself. 

“Minho, please do something,” you wailed once again, every ounce of shame was long gone from your body, replaced with pure lust and need for the man in front of you. Minho didn’t answer, his eyes moved to yours. His piercing gaze hypnotized you and nailed you on the spot, you couldn’t look away. He slowly lowered himself and when he was at eye level with your pretty pussy he gently pressed his lips right onto your clit. Your back bowed and arched off the bed; this feeling was so foreign and intense that it overwhelmed you but in the best ways, you never wanted Minho to stop. Almost like he could hear your thoughts, he peeked his tongue out of his mouth and gave you lick and then another and then another until he was slowly and passionately making out with your most sensitive and private part. Your breath hitched in your throat, obscenely loud moans slipped past your lips and for a second you worried about your roommates hearing the two of you but ultimately decided that you didn’t care.

So immersed in your pleasure, you almost didn’t notice Minho’s fingers circling your entrance until he was gently pushing them in, their drags against your slick walls felt weird but the more he pushed the more the feeling changed into a truly intoxicating one. 

Pleasure pooled and swirled into your gut as Minho worked his magic on you.

“Oh Minho, I’m close, I’m so close,” you hadn’t even realized you had spoken until the words had left your mouth. Minho hummed and sucked your clit into his mouth a little harder while thrusting into your sweet spot with a little more vigor. The coil in your belly suddenly snapped and you thrashed around in Minho’s hold. The orgasm was glorious, you swore you had seen stars. 

Minho continued to lick at your slit until you were whining and whimpering. You were completely exhausted but strangely your body had never felt lighter. 

A warm towel pressed against your pussy and you jolted, you hadn’t even realized that he had moved from between your legs. 

“How are you feeling? Did you enjoy yourself?” he softly asked while he cleaned you up.

“It was great, thank you,” your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“C’mon, let’s get ice cream.” His hands wrapped around your wrist and he helped you stand.

“Ice cream?” you asked  confused.

“I was the first ever man to ever be between your legs, I can’t abandon you right after.”

The walk to the ice cream parlor was quiet, but not awkward unlike what you expected. Minho’s presence was warm and welcoming, he made you feel safe and you felt like you didn’t need excessive words to fill up the silence, basking in each other’s presence was enough. 

“Minho, can I ask you something?” He nodded. A man of few words, you thought.

“Why did you keep calling me pretty?”

“Because you are pretty,” he mumbled, his ears were starting to get red.

You felt butterflies swarm your stomach.

“We should go out sometimes,” he spoke so softly that you had almost missed it. His ears were now completely red.

“Yeah, we should.”

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (2)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst!! (poor Az :/)

a/n: I hope you enjoyy!! :) More to come obvi <3 This is gonna be a long one.

Part 1 ♡, Part 3 ☾

Series Masterlist

~~

Did the small wooden box on the top shelf of the closet have meaning? 

Was it significant? 

From the bed centered in the middle of the room, you let your eyes take you along the delicate carvings in the wood. They looped and curved, dropping off in the pattern of a star, and then a moon, and then a misshapen cloud. 

You knocked your head to the side, ignoring the deep pain lingering there, and glanced at the empty spot on the dresser by the door. It was the exact size of the box. And the box—in its new, seemingly hidden location—looked haphazardly placed. 

Did they move it for a reason? 

Did they think you wouldn’t notice? 

Was this even your bedroom? 

You figured it must be. Clothes that looked to be your size were hanging in the closet. A vanity sat by the window with products on it that might compliment your complexion. There were paintings you found yourself enjoying hanging on the walls. 

So this must be your bedroom… but there was something missing. 

And it looked as if nothing was in the right place, but you had no frame of reference for where it was all supposed to be. 

You just knew that that wooden box didn’t belong under a knit sweater in the closet. 

The creak of the door drew your attention away from the apparent inaccuracy of the room. Two people entered, and it was a small mercy that you found some recognition in their faces. Majda and Mor slinked into the room, the latter with a sheepish, shy smile on her face, and clicked the door shut with a muted click. 

“Hi,” Mor greeted, as Majda set an absurdly large bag on the bedside table. The blonde shifted her weight between her feet. “My name is Mor. We met in the forest, do you remember?” 

Do you remember? 

It was unintentionally cruel. 

You nodded your head, not trusting your voice when it was so unfamiliar. 

Mor’s smile brightened a touch. “I was hoping you would. Although, with everything that happened I wasn’t going to put too much pressure on you.” She winked, and you were left feeling like an outsider in your own conversation. 

Majda bustled around your bed, asking permission before touching your head and your neck. You granted it to her, if only because she was the only person in the room not attempting to drive an uncomfortable conversation. Mor seemed very sweet, but she was hovering over you and glancing your way as if you were going to explode. 

Maybe you were going to explode. 

It’s not like you would know if that was a common occurrence for you. 

“I know you’ve woken up a few times since returning ho—here,” Mor quickly corrected, playing with her fingers and shifting onto her toes. “You were confused for a while before you fell back to sleep. Do you remember that?” 

Do you remember that? 

You shook your head. Majda’s hands glowed and warmed against your skull. 

Mor pursed her lips. “Hm, I suppose that’s to be expected. It was all a bit disorienting.” 

There were a few moments of silence. Mor dropped herself into the chair that had been pulled up beside the bed, fidgeting every so often. The old healer continued her assessment of you as you stared blankly out the window and tried to pretend there weren’t a pair of brown eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. You could hear footsteps beyond your door. 

They would pace one way, and then the other. 

“No change.” Majda’s voice startled you out of your stupor. She gave you kind eyes and a pat on your cheek. “This is above my abilities. I’m sorry. You are in good health, otherwise.” 

“My head,” you croaked out. Gods, how long had you been asleep? “It hurts. Hasn’t stopped.” 

The healer hummed. “I can give you some tonics, but until the source of this amnesia is sorted out, there will be no definitive fix.” 

A few glass vials clinked against the side table as Majda placed them there and slung her bag over her shoulder. She shared a few hushed words with Mor and then went to the door, swinging it wide as she stepped through it. You caught the tip of a wing in the doorframe, saw those same shadows from before curve around the hinges and pull towards you. 

They were ushered back just as quickly, and then the door shut as well, hiding the hints of your visitor. 

You hadn’t noticed you’d craned your neck to catch a glimpse until you righted it. When you heard more voices in the hall, you looked down at your fingers, blinking back tears you didn’t understand the origins of. 

“Sometimes, you like to read,” Mor said, breaking the silence. “You were in the middle of this book.” 

She placed the thick novel on the blanket beside your legs. Glancing up at Mor’s encouraging smile, you picked it up, feeling its weight in your hand instead of giving in to the one in your chest. You thumbed along the spine and then at the edges of the pages, stopping when your fingers caught on a sharp edge at the top. 

A bookmark—a place where you’d left off. You flipped it open but couldn’t follow a bit of it. 

More tears left your throat feeling thick. 

“What happens now?” you quietly asked, trying desperately not to cry in front of this woman that you didn’t know. 

“Now—” Mor began, clearing her own throat, her voice just as raw as yours. When she sat by your legs, you let some of the glossiness in your eyes show. “—we take things slow. Majda said we shouldn’t rush things until we find a source. Rhys—Rhysand… the one with the pointed ears and a pompous attitude—is in contact with other courts to try and get some help. There are other people in our Inner Circle that might be able to help as well.” 

You bit into your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m part of this circle?” 

Mor’s smile was sad. “You are.” 

~~ 

You shifted in front of the mirror, uncomfortable despite being alone. It had been three days since you woke up, and each of those three days had been spent in your bedroom. Your bedroom, you had confirmed with Mor. 

The only two people you had been in contact with were Mor and Majda. You could hear other voices in the hall, sometimes see a shadow pass by your balcony at night, but you only ever spoke to Mor. Majda didn’t say much when she came in to check your head and drop off more vials.

“We don’t want to overwhelm you,” Mor had said, but there was something else, too. You weren’t comfortable enough to pry. She looked disappointed that you accepted her reasoning so easily. 

The three days were spent mostly alone, which you hadn’t minded, but the time spent with Mor was filled with stories about you. Where you grew up, how long you studied, all of your favorite things; she was in the business of introducing you to yourself, and she was definitely qualified for the job. 

You had asked her who she was to you, and you received a simple answer at that. 

“I’m your family,” she had said, and then she began talking about you again. 

She always got quiet when you spoke of your connection to others. 

Which was why you had suggested a lunch. 

You spent the better part of the last three days panicking, and then moping, and then aimlessly searching your bedroom for any hints of the life you led before this. All avenues either left you with a headache or emotional exhaustion. 

You remembered the three other men from that day—Rhysand, Azriel, and the one with the longer hair—Cassian, Mor had called him. You wanted to meet them properly… introduce yourself? A ridiculous notion; according to Mor, you’d known everyone for the past 300 years. 

But you didn’t know them, not really. 

And Azriel’s shadows—you wanted to see them the most. You’d been searching for the calm they offered you since the day you woke up, but couldn’t find it in their absence. 

“Are you ready?” Mor asked, a soft knock on the other side of the door. 

“I think so,” you called back. You’d grown more accustomed to the sound of your voice. It was still strange to hear the sound echo back in your head, but as long as you didn’t scream or yell, it was tolerable. 

Mor opened the door, took in your choice of clothes—a purple dress with sleeves that flowed past the wrists—and tried to hide the flutter of her lashes. 

Embarrassment immediately found you. “Was I not supposed to wear this? It was in the back of the closet so I thought—” 

“You look lovely,” Mor assured, linking your arm with hers. Touch was another thing you were growing accustomed to. It was easy with Mor. “You just haven’t worn that in a while. I was surprised to see it.” 

As she walked you down halls you had never seen before, you huffed out a dry laugh. “Well, this is the first time I’m seeing it.” 

Your joke fell flat. Mor smiled back at you, but it was the same smile you always saw. Sad, pained, bittersweet. 

“Who did you say was attending?” you asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from her sad smiles. 

“Just me, Azriel, and Cassian. There are a few more people we typically see on a daily basis, but we wanted to start out small.” 

“To not overwhelm me.” 

“Precisely.” 

Your steps were silent on the marble floor, the silk slippers you chose allowing some of the chill to seep into your toes. “So, why did they choose you?” 

Mor blinked and turned a confused expression your way. “What do you mean?” 

“Why did they choose you as the one person that speaks to me? Are you the least overwhelming of the bunch?” 

“Well that title certainly wouldn’t go to Cassian,” Mor grumbled out. She guided you to a large wooden door and offered you a shrug of her shoulders that looked far too nonchalant. “I was just the best fit for the job. I love you, but… I could handle this.” 

“Handle this? Am I really so terrible?” you asked, trying your hand at another joke. 

Mor’s smile looked more genuine this time as she shook her head. “No. No, you are absolutely wonderful. And that’s the problem.” 

You took a moment to try and decipher her words. Did you mean that much to these people? Did they care so deeply about your memories that only one person could stand to be around you now that they were gone? 

It was difficult not to fall into the immense vat of guilt you now found yourself teetering on the edge of. It was difficult to pretend Mor wasn't looking at you as if you had stolen something from her. 

That was the truth that was missing before—you would be too overwhelming to everyone else. Not the other way around.

Mor gave your hand a fond squeeze as if she could hear your thoughts, and then opened the door. The hinges squeaked and the sheer size of it caused a rather loud echo in the room, but neither of those sounds drowned out the sharp intake of breath from the dining room table. Your eyes immediately shot to the blue glow and the shadows twisting around wide wings. 

Azriel. 

He looked back at you, unblinking, mouth parted. His hair was clean cut and cared for, but something about it looked frazzled and untamed. It didn’t suit the stiffness with which he sat, nor the white-knuckled grip on his fork that he maintained. 

Black wisps slinked across the floor, stopping at your slippers and twisting around your ankles. You broke your stare from Azriel in favor of watching them swirl up your legs. True to your memory—which wasn’t a testament to much these days—their cool presence eased some of the pain in your head. 

A throat cleared. 

You snapped your head up. 

“Uh, I’m Cassian. I don’t know if you remember me from the other day—”

“I do,” you softly interrupted. 

Azriel choked out a shuddering breath. Your eyes lingered on the side of his face before returning to Cassian as he continued with, “Good. That’s good. New memories and all that. Very nice.”

“Cauldron, Cassian,” Mor admonished. “She’s not an invalid.” 

He threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “I didn’t say she was! I was being encouraging.” 

“Great, I’m sure we all feel very encouraged. Come, y/n.” 

You followed Mor blindly until a chair was pressed to your back and a plate was ushered in front of you. There were a few moments of silence, just the clinking of plates and forks, before the panic began to build in your chest. It was a familiar feeling for you, one of the only you could draw memories from. 

You should say something.

Azriel and Cassian, they were doing this for you—taking time away from whatever it was they were supposed to be doing to have a silly lunch. In a normal world, you wouldn’t need to have lunch as a way to reintroduce yourself to your family. 

Were they still your family? 

You knew nothing about them, could reciprocate nothing.

There had been no news about the witch that did this to you and no one told you if Rhysand found anyone to help. 

What if you were stuck like this? 

What if they grew tired of you wasting away in your room and forcing them into lunches and—

“That dish is your favorite.” 

Azriel’s deep voice rasped at the end of his sentence and sent every thought shooting away from your brain. You came back to present, catching yourself taking quick, shallow breaths and staring down at the table with no clear target. 

“You eat it every other week. I—We picked it up from a restaurant along the Sidra, a river in town,” Azriel explained. 

You brought your gaze up from staring a hole into the wood to find Azriel directly across from you, his posture more relaxed than before. His expression was patient, kind, and you nodded back at him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. But that was odd—whispering during a meal. “Thank you,” you tried again, clearer this time. “I appreciate that—”

“Azriel,” he filled in, not allowing you the possibility of a mistake. “My name is Azriel.” 

You knew that. You knew all of their names as well as their faces. There were a few paintings shoved into the back of your closet that you had taken the time to study. 

Did they shove them back there on purpose? 

“It’s nice to meet you, Azriel.” 

Azriel’s jaw quivered, his lashes fluttered. 

He took a bite of salad. 

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” Cassian began, clearing his throat again. “But we used to—well, no, we currently have a weekly arrangement where you drag me to the theater and make me watch a show and I pretend I hate it but I actually have a great time.” 

The lingering joy on his face made a small smile creep up onto your own. 

“Sound fun to you? Might be nice to get out of that room.” 

You took a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek. This was a good sign, him wanting to spend time with you… him wanting to be in your presence and not break down into tears or anger or distaste.

“I would love to,” you said. “Although, I don’t know much about theater.” 

Cassian dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Wouldn’t expect you to know much about anything, sweetheart.”

Mor snorted the water she was drinking back into her glass, you let out a surprised, scoff-like laugh, and Cassian grinned from beside you, all teeth and snark and playfulness. 

But Azriel. 

Azriel stood up, his chair screeching as it pushed out abruptly. His napkin was clenched tightly in his hand and the rigidness from before was back and in full-swing. The shadows that had stayed with you for the duration of lunch zoomed back to their master, displacing the material of your dress as they went. 

He had a bleak, hard look in his eye as he stared at no one. 

“Azriel?” you asked, and it was the first time you’d started any semblance of a conversation on your own. Even when you spoke to Mor, she was the one prompting you to speak. 

At the sound of your voice, Azriel quickly turned his gaze toward you, his eyes softening immediately. But just as quickly, his shoulders slumped, his napkin fell to the floor, and his hand came up to cover his mouth. “I—I’m incredibly sorry. I can’t do this.” 

And then he was gone.

Part 3 ☾