#seriously that tank is so tiny.
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heretherebedork · 4 months ago
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I would like to be clear that Mr. Shy should have a much larger enclosure and that he should have a lot more supplies for his best care. Just for the record. Please give turtles better homes than that.
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hearts4hughes · 1 month ago
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rafe request - you having a nightmare where rafe cheated on you and even though it’s not real your still mad at rafe. maybe giving him the silent treatment and him having to apologize (even though he did nothing wrong lol)
A/N: i love whatever trope this is considered sooo much
rafe stirs from his sleep as golden spills from the opened curtains. he groans, eyes still shut as he reaches out expecting to meet your warm body. his eyes shoot open when he doesn’t feel you.
scratching the back of his neck, he scrambles out of bed and into the kitchen where you are pouring yourself a cup of coffee. he smiles when he sees you clad in your boxer shorts and tiny tank top.
“morning, beautiful.” he greets, his voice still raspy with sleep. his arms snake around your waist from behind, causing your body to stiffen. "why are you up so early?" he presses sweet kisses along the back of your neck.
you wiggle away from his grip, not even sparing him a glance or a response. he squints in annoyance and confusion. what had he done now?
“ignoring me, are we?” he asks as he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. you greet him with a glare. “why’re you looking at me like that? i didn’t do anything.” he was dumbfounded at your unusual coldness.
“you cheated on me.” you stated simply with a pout.
“no i did not-”
“in my dream.” you specified. “you cheated on me in my dream.”
a laugh escaped his lips as you said that. but as you continued to glare at him, not finding this amusing, his eyes widened. “are you seriously mad at me for what i did in your dream? it’s not real, baby.”
“dreams foreshadow the future, asshole. so, that means you’re planning on cheating on me.” your tone left no room for debate. rafe’s jaw was agape. he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.
“that’s such bullshit. you can’t be mad at me, right?” his amused tone made your eyes water and lip begin to quiver. tears started streaming down your face. “oh, honey, don’t cry. i’m, i’m… sorry for dream rafe. he’s such an asshole.”
“you’d never cheat on me, right?” you asked as through a choked out sob.
“i would never do that to you. not in a million years!” he reassured, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair. “you’re so perfect, the only girl for me.” he murmured through kisses to the top of your head.
as you began to calm down, he pulled you away from his chest. his eyes traced over your face. “are you ok now?” you nodded and bit your lip.
“i’m sorry. it just felt so real.” your voice was tiny and quiet. s wave of embarrassment rushed over you, causing more tears to slip from your eyes. rafe shushed you, wiping away your tears, and mumbling more apologies.
“dream rafe is on thin ice.”
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jupiterpilgrim · 26 days ago
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Sex Cage: Fame, Fun and Fire
Kwon Eunbi x Yujin x Male Reader
word count: 8.5K
part 1//part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You and Eunbi are seated side by side at the mall food court, each of you carrying a look of shared anxiety. Around you, the crowd is a tangled mess of shopping bags, kids running around, and people who’ve clearly never heard of headphones. But the noise outside is nothing compared to the storm within.
"So... are you nervous?" Eunbi nudges you, a teasing smile on her lips, trying to ease both your tension and her own.
"Just a little," you admit.
"Look, babe, you need to get used to this stuff. She’s just a girl."
"Not just any girl," you retort, frowning. "It's Yujin."
Eunbi shrugs, as casual as if meeting one of the biggest content creators of the moment were just another ordinary day. "So, she’s famous—big deal. She still puts on her pants one leg at a time, just like us." She looks at you, something warm and affectionate in her eyes. "Seriously, love, when she gets here, you’ll see. It'll be like talking to anyone else."
As if the universe had a particularly cynical sense of humor, a voice chimes in from behind you.
"Found you!"
You both turn your heads so fast you might win an Olympic medal in synchronized movements. And there she is—Yujin, in person, flesh and blood. Taller than you imagined, with an aura that seems to light up the entire food court. She’s dressed casually, a loose black knit sweater with a basic white tank barely visible underneath, and frayed denim shorts that add a laid-back vibe, matched with a studded belt. Sunglasses complete the look.
The brightness of her smile shatters any notion of “just a girl” into tiny, irrelevant pieces.
“Hi... hi!” Eunbi finally stands, throwing herself into a hug with Yujin, desperately trying to keep her composure. You’re still stuck on the bench, trying to convince yourself she didn’t just step out of a fashion editorial.
Yujin steps back from Eunbi and looks at you, a smile that, if you weren’t petrified, you’d swear had a hint of complicity. "And you, aren’t you coming?" She opens her arms, waiting.
You stand, trying not to look like a complete idiot, and she pulls you into a casual hug that, in your head, lasts an eternity. “I was super excited to meet you both,” she says, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Eunbi, trying her hardest to act natural, replies, “We were too. You’re even prettier in person, honestly.”
Yujin lets out a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, thanks, but look who’s talking. You’re so much more stunning in real life, too.”
Eunbi glances away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, I... thank you,” she stammers, unable to hold back a smile.
Yujin removes her sunglasses and glances at you, a curious expression on her face. “And you, honey, are cute too,” she says with a hint of amusement, “but you look a bit tense. Nervous?”
"I... it’s just... it’s my first time doing this," you admit, trying to play it cool. You laugh, but it’s that kind of laugh that gives away every attempt at looking natural.
"Relax. Soon enough, we’ll all be close. Want a decent coffee? I think we have a long day ahead."
Yujin leads the way to a quieter café, and you and Eunbi exchange a look—a mix of awe and satisfaction—as you follow her.
After all, it’s just another day.
Except it's not.
The café is an unlikely refuge in the middle of the mall chaos. Unlike the food court, the lighting here is softer, as if the designers decided people spend more if they feel mysteriously cozy. Yujin, of course, looks perfectly at ease.
You place your orders at the counter—a cappuccino for her, an extravagant frappuccino for Eunbi, and a black coffee for you, because someone here had to add a touch of seriousness. With drinks in hand, the three of you find a table by the window, where you can watch the hurried tide of shoppers on the other side of the glass, as if observing a documentary on human behavior in its natural habitat.
Once you’re settled, Yujin turns to you both, firing off, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d accept the offer. It took you a while to reply.”
You and Eunbi share one of those telepathic glances that only develop after years together. “We were... going through some stuff at the time,” Eunbi answers, a bit awkwardly, as if trying to give a short answer to a question that deserves a thesis.
“Ah, I get it,” Yujin says, with a smile that makes it clear she really does. “Relationships, huh? They always have their ups and downs.”
For a brief second, you and Eunbi glance at each other again, like two students caught off guard by a question in the middle of class. Explaining that, back in the anonymous video days, you were just friends feels like an odyssey no one wants to start. So you simply say nothing. Silence, after all, is one of the most efficient forms of communication.
Unfazed, Yujin continues, as if she has the supernatural gift of skipping over the complicated parts. “So how’s it been, now that you’re not anonymous anymore?”
“Funny,” Eunbi begins. “The first few weeks were... strange. I was afraid to go out, like, what if someone recognized me? But then I realized the world out there is a lot bigger than the view count on my screen.”
“Oh, the ego hates this part,” Yujin comments, with a smile you’d classify as experienced. “But don’t worry. The worst that can happen is someone asking for a photo.”
She tilts her head, her eyes roaming over the two of you. “And your families? How did they react?”
You clear your throat, searching for the words. “Well, only my family knows. Eunbi’s parents... haven’t found out yet, apparently. In fact, not even our friends found out. You know, it's not something you reveal with much enthusiasm. But eventually they'll get to the truth."
“Really? Well, I hope everything goes well when they find out,” Yujin says.
“My family didn’t take it too well at first, and maybe the fact that I revealed this to them when I was drunk contributed to that,” you admit, exhaling like you’re shedding a weight. “We ended up taking a... break for a while, you know? But eventually, they called, and we were able to talk without drama. In the end, they came around.”
Yujin lets out a laugh, this time a bit more bitter. “Parents, huh? Mine didn’t accept it at all. But honestly? I was never a big fan of them anyway. These days, we kind of... don’t talk anymore.” She shrugs, as if it were a small thing and not a complete family break. “Sad, isn’t it? But that’s life.”
And then, right on cue, the drinks arrive. The waitress sets the cups down with clockwork precision, and Yujin holds her cappuccino as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to keep discussing family breakdowns while savoring milk foam.
You stare at the foam on your black coffee, maybe as a symbolic attempt to glimpse into the future. “And you... do you regret this choice?”
“Me?” Yujin raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Not at all. Today, I have my own life, I live super well, and freedom is priceless. By the way, what about you two? Any regrets?”
Eunbi shrugs, leaning over to grab her frappuccino. “Not yet,” she answers, looking at you for a moment as if seeking confirmation.
“Same here,” you add. “So far, nothing’s really gone wrong. I quit my old job and now I have more free time to spend with my girlfriend, helping her with her business. But I confess that sometimes I find myself having some doubts about the future."
“Don’t overthink it. As long as you two have each other, you’ll get through any challenge.” She says it like someone who’s navigated a fair share of rough waters and lived to tell the tale.
You and Eunbi share another look, and this time the smile you exchange feels like a silent pact, an okay, we can do this.
Yujin continues with a casual prophecy. “Oh, and one more thing. This will also become your new normal. In five years, you might not even remember what the old life was like.”
Eunbi tilts her head, pretending innocence. “And is that a good thing?”
“Oh, it’s very good,” Yujin replies, with a smile half genuine, half enigmatic. She takes a sip of her cappuccino, seeming to savor every drop, as if drinking directly from a magic potion. “Freedom can be a little... lonely at times. But honestly? It’s the best thing there is.”
You and Eunbi absorb this in silence, but it’s not a silence that lasts long, as the café door almost trembles when a group of girls enter, spotting Yujin. In an instant, the carefully cultivated tranquility of the café goes right out the window.
“OH MY GOD, YUJIN!” one of them yells with the intensity of someone spotting Beyoncé. The entire café turns to look as you and Eunbi shrink in surprise. But Yujin only flashes that smile she’s probably practiced in the mirror just for moments like this.
She gives a small wave, like a queen in her royal chamber, and the girls rush over, each with eyes sparkling with admiration and a genuine urgency, as if they’re reporters interviewing a celebrity on the red carpet.
“I’m your biggest fan!” exclaims the first one, staring at Yujin like she’s the last source of water in a desert. “I watch all your streams on Twitch. I mean, EVERY one. Even that stream that crashed because of your cat. That part was iconic.”
Yujin laughs, nodding. “Ah, yes. He always thinks the keyboard is the best bed in the house.”
The second girl practically jumps with excitement. “You’re like my fashion muse! I copied that blue hair you had a few months ago, you know? But the blue washed out after like three washes. Any tricks?”
“Sure. First, get a good toner. Then say a couple of Hail Marys. Works every time.”
The third seems almost breathless with adrenaline, as if she’s been preparing her whole life for this moment. “Seriously, you’re everything to me! I even follow your playlist on Spotify. Like, I’m OBSESSED with your workout playlist.”
Yujin, now visibly flattered, raises an eyebrow. “Ah, the workout playlist… a classic.” She turns to you and Eunbi, as if wanting to share a private joke. “It has a certain vibe, you know? Who knew ‘Dancing Queen’ could be so motivating for leg presses?”
Then one of the girls pulls out her phone, eyes alight with hope. “Can we take a picture with you, Yujin? And maybe you could say ‘hi’ on Stories? Just to prove this surreal moment actually happened.”
Yujin nods like a patient teacher. “Of course, let’s do it! Who wants to be first?”
It’s chaos.
Each of them takes a selfie from a carefully studied angle, as if taking an X-ray, and Yujin smiles serenely in all of them, saintly calm. She says a quick “hi, everyone, I’m here at the café with these beauties!” on one girl’s Stories, while the girl herself looks ready to faint from sheer emotion.
Between selfies, one fan glances over at Eunbi, her eyes widening. “Wait… aren’t you Rubydden? Oh my God, I've seen some of your photos on Instagram! You’re so beautiful, seriously!”
Eunbi gives a bashful yet proud smile. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. And this is my boyfriend…”
“Is he also an influencer?”
“Well, in a way... yes,” Eunbi replies.
Another one elbows her friend, not-so-quietly whispering, “Hey guys, now there are three famous influencers here! This café’s getting a five-star Google upgrade today!”
Yujin, clearly amused, wraps up the photos and casually comments, “You girls are amazing. Really. But now let me drink my cappuccino before it turns into iced coffee.”
The girls laugh, enchanted by how Yujin effortlessly combines a hint of farewell without losing any charm. They gradually back away, waving and sending another wave of compliments, promises to keep following everything she does, and even a lone “I love you” from the back of the group.
Once they’re gone, Eunbi turns to Yujin, looking fascinated, almost incredulous. “Does… does this happen to you a lot?”
“Depends on the day,” Yujin replies, picking up her cup and taking a casual sip, as if fans were a weather phenomenon she’s learned to predict. “But lately, I’ve been seeing more girls following me. Ever since I started making content beyond, you know, just porn.”
Eunbi snaps her fingers, like she’s had an idea. “Hey, Yujin… do you think I should start streaming on Twitch too?”
Yujin looks at her over the rim of her cup, like she’s evaluating a new piece of furniture. “Should you? Eunbi, that’s not even a question. It’s practically your duty! And I say that with no pressure, of course.” She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that makes it clear the decision is practically made.
“Besides, you already have everything. You’re charming, fun, and just mysterious enough to keep the audience hooked.”
Eunbi laughs, but you can see the idea starting to appeal to her. She turns to you. “Do you think I should try it?”
“Definitely,” you reply. “And if you need, I can handle all the tech stuff. I can even set up notifications that scream ‘let’s fucking go’ every time someone subscribes.”
Yujin laughs, nodding, and takes another sip of her coffee. “That’s it! People love that kind of silly stuff! Oh, and another thing, Eunbi: Twitch could be a gateway to other types of content. You can show you’re a whole person, you know? Talk about whatever you want. Books, music, I don’t know, the best kind of tea—anything that makes people see you’re more than a pretty face and a name. It’s marketing, it’s fun, and honestly, it’ll protect you a bit from objectification. They won’t just see ‘Eunbi, the hot girl from OnlyFans,’ but ‘Eunbi, the one who chats about everything for an hour and makes it interesting.’”
Eunbi blinks, surprised. “Does that actually work?”
“More than you think,” Yujin responds with a mysterious smile. “And, over time, you won’t even need to explain you’re more than what they see. They’ll already know.”
“So… that’s it,” Eunbi says, looking at you with an expression that’s part excitement, part slight fear. “Get ready, you’ll have a lot of work helping me set things up.”
Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s going to be great, sweetheart. And we’ll definitely do some streams together. We’ll break the platform.”
You look at Yujin, a thought bubbling up in your mind. “So, Yujin,” you start, as if about to ask the secret of the universe, “since we’re talking about this spotlight thing… Who’s the most famous adult content creator you’ve ever met?”
Yujin doesn’t hesitate for a second. Her eyes light up, and her smile widens like someone about to recount a legend.
“Karina.”
The word comes out with an almost tangible reverence, and both you and Eunbi lean in slightly closer, as if pulled by a collective magnet of admiration.
“Karina?” Eunbi repeats, curiosity shimmering in every syllable.
Yujin nods, with that distant look of someone who’s seen the Mona Lisa or the Taj Mahal up close on a sunny afternoon. “Karina isn’t just famous. She’s, like... an entity. Tall, graceful, perfect hair and skin, a flawless body, and a sense of style that could make anyone feel like a shabby peasant just by existing in the same room.”
“Hmm, I see. So… she’s pretty?” you ask, choosing the simplest word so it’s not too obvious that you already know who she is.
Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Pretty? Honey, pretty doesn’t even come close. She’s stunning. Impeccable. The kind of person you look at and think, ‘Will my mom forgive me if I drop everything to devote myself to this woman?’”
Eunbi lets out a small laugh, but it’s clear she’s just as fascinated. “And she’s actually nice to talk to and all?”
“Oh, absolutely. You’d expect someone like her to be arrogant, right? But Karina is sweet, kind. When she speaks, it feels like she’s dedicating all her attention to you. She makes you feel like the most interesting person in the world.” Yujin sighs, as if reliving a pleasant dream. “She’s polite with everyone, never makes anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s almost surreal.”
“Wow, she sounds like a myth.” Eunbi sighs.
“Almost, yeah,” Yujin admits, leaning back. “She’s a woman of class, you know? If I were to describe her... She’s like an old Hollywood movie star, but... updated for the internet age.”
Eunbi’s gaze slowly slides over to you, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And you, babe, have you heard of this goddess?”
You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, but your mind feels like it’s racing to avoid the tricky questions that are clearly coming. “Well... maybe I’ve heard of her... once or twice... around... on the internet.”
Eunbi raises an eyebrow, a smile beginning to form. “Once or twice, huh?”
Yujin doesn’t miss a beat, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure he knows exactly who I’m talking about!”
“I really don’t know if I know her,” you reply, with the conviction of someone trying to dodge an unfair accusation.
Yujin laughs out loud, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s seen at least one of her videos. She’s practically a cultural landmark. Like... like watching The Godfather or something.”
“I’m not ‘everyone,’” you insist, trying to maintain some dignity.
But Eunbi and Yujin exchange glances and burst into a shared laugh, clearly amused at your expense. “Of course not,” Eunbi says, pretending an exaggerated innocence, while Yujin nods as if fully agreeing.
“Right,” Yujin says, with a wink. “You’re totally immune to that sort of thing, for sure.”
“Okay, okay, but does she only do videos or... anything else?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.
“Well,” Yujin begins, “She’s also an escort. And, well... they say her rates are higher than the national debt of a small country. But she’s worth every cent—at least, that’s what those who’ve paid say.”
Eunbi scrunches her nose, as if trying to imagine the price and eventually giving up on the math. “So, basically, she’s perfect. Like... the adult version of Barbie?”
“An adult Barbie mixed with the Mona Lisa and a dash of Cleopatra,” Yujin says, gesturing dramatically, as if her hands could illustrate such divinity. “But seriously, I loved chatting with her. Really. We met at a party in Dubai, it was an incredible night, I even got nervous when I saw her, but she was so sweet and patient with me that I almost felt like her close friend.”
Eunbi and you look at each other, sharing a mixture of disbelief and fascination.
“She sounds almost unreal,” you finally say, still trying to process the idea.
Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “She is. And the best part? She knows it. But unlike many, she doesn’t put on a show. She just... exists. And somehow, that’s more impressive than anything she could try to be.”
The apartment is bathed in the radiant light of early afternoon as you and Eunbi enter with Yujin, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide your nervousness under a casual façade. Yujin glances around, inspecting the space.
“Wow, what a cozy place,” she remarks. “Seems perfect for a young couple. But who knows, maybe you’ll, say, be able to expand things in the future, huh?”
Eunbi, smiling with a mixture of pride and discomfort, says, “Make yourself at home,” not quite sure what "at home" might mean for someone like Yujin.
“Oh, I will,” Yujin responds, her tone so suggestive that you and Eunbi exchange a shared, nervous glance, caught between laughter and cold sweats. Yujin then casts an investigative look around the room before dropping the question. “Can I see where you two film?”
“Of course!” Eunbi replies, excited. You both lead her down the hallway to Eunbi’s former room, still decorated with vibrant trinkets and stuffed animals. Eunbi explains with a shy smile, “Since we started dating, I moved into his room—it’s bigger. So this one became the studio.”
"You guys were living together before you were dating? That's wild!"
"We were actually roommates and best friends," Eunbi says.
"Oh, I get it! In that case, it's a really cute thing." Yujin examines the space with curiosity, nodding in approval. “Ah, the room I see in the videos,” she says, as if she’s stumbled upon the place where the Great Mystery unfolds. After a moment, she looks at Eunbi with a playful smile. “By the way, can I borrow one of your lingerie sets, princess?”
You blink, confused, and the question slips out before you can think: “Are… we filming now?”
Yujin raises an eyebrow and laughs, as if she’s dealing with a child asking why the sky is blue. “Yes, darling. I have a flight later for a podcast appearance,” she says, patient, as if this were a common part of anyone’s day.
You’re still processing the suddenness of it all when you manage to ask, “What podcast?”
“Sana’s podcast. You haven’t been on it yet, right?”
You and Eunbi look at each other, both trying to imagine the possibility, but Eunbi shakes her head, amused. “Not yet.”
“Oh, but I’ll make a recommendation,” Yujin replies with a wink, like a mischievous fairy godmother ready to pull a few invisible strings. “Sana is amazing. Hilarious, and she was one of the first to give us, adult creators, a place to speak, to give our opinions and combat insults. You guys should go. So many girls only got their break thanks to her support. She’s going to love you, I’m sure.”
Eunbi, now more excited than ever, responds, “Wow, it’d be amazing to do an episode with her.”
Yujin smiles like she’s just made a promise to fate itself. “I’ll make it happen,” she says, giving Eunbi a look. Then, with a casual gesture, she motions to you, as if giving a gentle hint.
“Now, sweetheart… could you give us a moment to get ready?” Yujin asks, more informing you than really asking, with a hint of gentle dismissal.
You feel your face warm, realizing this is your cue to step out. “Oh, sure. I… I’ll wait in the living room,” you reply, trying to seem more confident than you feel.
She closes the door with a cheerful “See you in a minute!” and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Inside the bedroom-turned-improvised studio, Eunbi and Yujin glance at each other in the mirror, half-studying, half-laughing like two friends conspiring over some obscure secret—or in their case, a rather peculiar shoot. Eunbi gestures toward the closet with a kind of solemnity, inviting Yujin. “Go on, pick a lingerie set. There’s lots of colors. And styles,” she says, almost like she’s offering a valuable gem.
Yujin, without hesitation, slips off her bra and underwear, moving around the room with the confidence of someone, well, perfectly at ease with their own body. She picks up a blue lingerie set and holds it up, examining it with an almost scientific gaze. “Think it’ll look good?”
“It’ll look gorgeous,” Eunbi replies, already picking a pink set and undressing, letting her clothes drop casually to the floor. It’s funny how the situation feels both natural and tinged with a certain strangeness.
As she slides the lingerie on, Yujin glances at Eunbi from the corner of her eye. “You’re lucky, you know? Having a boyfriend who supports you in this kind of work… that’s rare.”
Eunbi nods, adjusting the strap of her bra. “He’s really supportive. He’s part of everything with me,” she says, smiling a little bashfully, which Yujin notices.
“A rare man,” Yujin remarks, looking at Eunbi for a moment, now that they’re both in just lingerie. “Most guys panic at the idea of their girlfriend doing this sort of thing.”
She pauses, her gaze quickly tracing over Eunbi. “By the way, let me just say—you look stunning like this, you know?”
Eunbi, surprised and a little shy, laughs and murmurs a “thank you,” adjusting her lingerie with a slight blush. Then, curious, she asks, “Have you ever dated anyone since you started creating adult content?”
Yujin lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, tinged with a bit of irony. “I tried.I've met a few guys who seemed promising at first, but none of them were looking for a committed relationship. Not with me, at least. My last boyfriend broke up with me when I started filming porn videos. Preferred a life without, well, international popularity.”
“Oh…” Eunbi makes a sympathetic face. “And you were okay with that?”
“Better this way,” Yujin shrugs, almost indifferent. “These days, I sleep with lots of amazing guys and girls. Life goes on just fine, thanks.” She adjusts her lingerie, looking in the mirror with a critical yet satisfied gaze. “Oh, help me with the clasp back here?”
Eunbi steps closer to fix the clasp, still laughing at the comment, then asks with genuine curiosity, “Do you ever think about stopping one day?”
Yujin gives a conspiratorial wink. “When I’m a millionaire, absolutely.”
Eunbi raises her eyebrows. “Really? And is that close to happening?”
Yujin looks at her in the mirror, a smile spreading. “Closer than you’d think, darling.”
She finishes adjusting the lingerie and checks herself in the mirror, turning slightly to see how it fits. “So, how does it look?”
“Beautiful. Sensational. Sexy, even,” Eunbi replies, with a sincerity that’s almost playful.
The compliment comes back quickly: “And you look like a goddess, darling. God, I’d give anything to have those glorious breasts,” she sighs, with a dramatic touch of envy. “But, now, a serious question,” Yujin continues, looking directly at Eunbi. “Are you sure you’re not going to feel jealous during the filming?”
The question makes Eunbi give a nervous laugh, hesitating before answering. “No, no… it’s fine. We know it’s just work.”
But Yujin looks at her intently, as if she wants to be sure Eunbi really understands. “This is purely professional, Eunbi. He’s your boyfriend. Nothing’s going to change. When the camera’s off, everything goes back to normal, I promise.”
Eunbi sighs and admits, laughing a little. “Well… maybe part of me will feel a bit jealous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Trust me, after the first time, you’ll get used to it,” she says, moving closer, looking at Eunbi with that same piercing gaze. Then, in a softer tone, she says, “You know what’ll help?”
“What?”
Yujin pauses for dramatic effect.
“Kiss me.”
Eunbi freezes, eyes wide as Yujin leans in slowly, a half-smile playing on her lips, savoring Eunbi’s surprise. “Relax, it’s just a kiss,” Yujin murmurs, her tone a mix of tease and tenderness. She waits for a response, but Eunbi just stays there, eyes fixed on Yujin’s lips, the gloss catching the light in a temptation too hard to resist.
Then, as if her body decides before her mind, Eunbi closes her eyes and lets herself be drawn in. Yujin’s lips touch hers softly, making her exhale as if the air suddenly got heavier. At first, it’s a tentative kiss, almost testing boundaries—a gentle brush, the taste of sweet strawberry filling Eunbi’s senses. But soon Yujin becomes firmer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss with a confidence only someone assured could manage.
Eunbi feels a hand slide slowly to her neck, fingers weaving into her hair, pulling her closer, and Yujin’s whole body aligns, pressing against her. “Breathe,” Yujin whispers against her lips, not pulling away, as if she’s guiding Eunbi to let go, to let control slip through her fingertips.
Eunbi releases a small sigh, something caught between nervousness and pure desire, her fingers trembling slightly as she holds Yujin by the waist, clutching there as if grounding herself. The taste of gloss, the soft scent of Yujin’s perfume, now so near, surround her, melding together and holding Eunbi captive, like a slow melody.
Yujin pulls away slowly, but not far, their faces still close enough for Eunbi to feel her warm breath. With that same mix of playful and affectionate smile, Yujin looks directly into Eunbi’s eyes, her fingers resting gently on the back of her neck. “See?” she murmurs, voice low and firm, almost like a secret. “The ice is broken now.”
Her thumb drifts to the corner of Eunbi’s mouth, where the gloss still glistens, brushing as if she’s wiping away the last trace of the kiss, and lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle. “No more tension, no more nerves. Now you know you can trust me.”
Eunbi just smiles back, heart racing, “I do trust you,” she replies, “and I’m ready to start.”
You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone when a gentle voice breaks the quiet. You look up to find Eunbi and Yujin standing side by side, hands intertwined. They’re draped in fine lingerie that highlights each curve, every detail crafted to allure. Eunbi’s pink lace against Yujin’s cool blue creates a sight so captivating you’re left speechless.
Eunbi tilts her head with a small, teasing smile. “Well, we’re ready. Just waiting on you.” She winks.
Yujin leans closer, one brow raised, a grin on her lips. “Are you going to sit there all night or join us?” she teases, her tone light but authoritative. Turning to Eunbi, she wraps her arms around her neck, and they exchange a conspiratorial glance before laughing softly together.
You get up, trying to keep your cool as you follow them to the bedroom. Every detail set, an intimate little scene for just the three of you.
Inside the room, Yujin doesn’t waste a second. She watches you intently, her gaze that of a seasoned expert, and then commands, “Alright, just strip down.”
You hesitate, glancing at Eunbi for reassurance. She nods calmly, a soft encouragement. “Come on, babe. Just another video,” she murmurs, voice gentle but filled with affection.
One by one, you peel off each piece, stopping at your underwear. At this point, Yujin decides to break the mounting tension. She lets out a soft laugh, looks at Eunbi, and says, “Let’s just cut to the chase.”
Turning to you with a bold gleam in her eye, she says, “Excuse me, but I’m going to kiss your boyfriend.”
The air thickens, feeling both heavier and lighter, like some invisible barrier is about to come down. As it should. Yujin steps toward you, each movement filled with confidence, her eyes trailing over you, taking in every detail with a gleam that’s both professional and undeniably challenging.
She stops just inches away, her eyes glinting with intensity, a look that combines business with something raw and thrilling. “Are you ready, or do we need to spend all night convincing you?” Her head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips, as she lifts a hand to your side, guiding it slowly to her waist.
Just a few steps away, Eunbi adjusts the camera on its tripod, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as she focuses the lens, aligning the angle carefully. “Just so you know, I’m finding this hilarious,” she says with a smile, though her tone carries an undercurrent of affection and maybe a touch of possessiveness. She leans over to check the focus, her gaze briefly meeting yours before she looks back at the screen. “Better enjoy it… before I change my mind.” Her playful tone barely masks the blush spreading across her face.
Yujin chuckles, seeming to catch her drift. “Don’t worry, Eunbi—I’ll take good care of your boyfriend,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. And without another word, she slides her hands to your neck, pulling you closer. Her lips meet yours, the kiss starting soft, giving you a moment to settle into the feeling, the sensation, before her fingers dive deeper, slipping along the nape of your neck, as though pulling you even closer.
Your hand moves almost on its own, resting on her waist, where the soft skin meets the lace. Your fingers drift up her back, and the kiss grows bolder, both of you falling into an easy rhythm. There’s a charged energy there, a delicate balance of nerves and a shared sense of release.
In one smooth movement, Yujin’s hand slides down your side to your waistband. She presses against the fabric, feeling the hardness beneath, a playful smile curling on her lips as she kisses you. She applies a bit more pressure, gauging your reaction. You feel warmth spread over every muscle, a pulse of nerves mixed with expectation.
“Oh, so this is how you respond,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours, voice barely more than a breath. Her hand tightens, confidence clear in her touch.
Eunbi, now finished setting up the camera (it's new, now your recordings will be in 4k), watches from a short distance, arms crossed, feigning impatience. “Alright, Yujin, I think that’s enough.”
Yujin steals one last kiss before pulling back, smirking. “Alright, Miss Eunbi, all done here.”
“Perfect,” Eunbi responds. “Now, boxers off, and sit down on the bed, babe. Let’s get started.”
Trying to look composed, you strip off your boxers and take a seat at the bed’s edge. Eunbi hands you the camera, which distracts your mind—focusing on capturing every moment makes it a bit easier.
Holding the equipment steady, you watch as Eunbi and Yujin kneel between your legs, each settling into position with a practiced balance of intimacy and poise. You adjust the camera, aiming to capture every detail as they lean in close. Through the lens, you see Yujin’s confident experience alongside Eunbi’s eager, intense sincerity.
“Alright, let’s begin,” you say, “One, two, three… rolling!”
Yujin moves first, her hand wrapping around your cock with steady ease, her tongue tracing slowly over every inch, savoring each part while her gaze locks onto yours with a playful glint. “Mmm, you taste so good,” she murmurs, tone teasing, confident.
Eunbi watches, her eyes tracing Yujin’s every move, soaking up each gesture and touch. When she can’t wait any longer, she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the base, her gaze intense, filled with adoration and hunger, like she’s taking in every sensation, every detail.
"Like that, Eunbi, slow—make him feel every second," Yujin whispers, a subtle smile on her face, watching as Eunbi tries to match her pace. Eunbi gives a barely perceptible nod, determined yet completely surrendered, as if there were nowhere else in the world she'd rather be. She drags her tongue along the base while Yujin takes the tip, alternating pressure, surrounding you with an intensity that’s almost overwhelming.
"Are you enjoying this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice soft, thick with desire. She meets your gaze, searching for the answer in your eyes. Her lips brush over your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat of the moment, each kiss like a silent promise.
"More than you could imagine," you rasp, struggling to keep your focus on the camera.
Yujin laughs softly, pleased by the effect they both have on you. Without warning, she takes you deeper, her lips sliding firmly, rhythmically. Her tongue circles the tip, drawing slow, teasing loops before she pulls you in, creating a pressure that sends waves of tension up your spine. "I'm going to make you lose control, and Eunbi will help," she says, a teasing tone underlying her words, her eyes alight with purpose.
Driven by her own desire, Eunbi switches between soft kisses and playful licks, exploring every inch with quiet determination.
"Yes, just like that, but firmer," Yujin instructs, holding the base as Eunbi joins her, their faces close enough that their hair nearly tangles. The combination of Yujin's precise skill and Eunbi's gentle touch is mind-blowing.
They work in tandem, Yujin taking the head as Eunbi trails her tongue along the base, each motion coordinated, each touch a new peak of pleasure. At one point, Yujin lets a hand slip down to your balls, massaging with delicate care as her mouth moves with increased intensity. "Let’s get this cock dripping wet," Yujin whispers, her gaze never leaving yours, heat flooding your body.
Emboldened by the rhythm and intensity, Eunbi lowers further, kissing along your thighs, each touch warm and light, as though she’s claiming the space. "You’re so hot, baby," she murmurs, running her tongue over your balls, alternating licks and soft kisses, every motion like a declaration of her desire.
The camera catches every detail—the looks, the touches, the mouths moving in perfect sync as Yujin and Eunbi work together, drawing you closer to the edge. Yujin’s eyes hold that knowing, wicked gleam, while Eunbi, lost in her own admiration and passion, gains confidence with each passing second.
They switch off, Yujin licking her way up your length as Eunbi focuses on the head, each pouring all their attention into every touch. In one moment of pure synchronicity, they glance at each other, smiling, and begin sucking together, Yujin lower, Eunbi at the top, her tongue teasing with playful swirls.
"Look at him," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, fingers brushing along Eunbi’s thigh for encouragement. "Show your naughty boyfriend how much you want this."
Eunbi follows her lead, lifting her gaze to meet yours, her eyes warm and inviting. She holds you firmly, her mouth hot and soft around you, sending a flush through your body.
"Now let’s play with your tits, princess," Yujin suggests.
Eunbi pulls away from your cock, her pink lips gleaming with saliva. Keeping her eyes on you, she reaches back and, with a graceful, deliberate motion, unhooks her bra. The fabric slips away, baring her firm, full breasts, her nipples already hard. She smiles, confidence and desire radiating from her every move.
Yujin watches intently, her gaze hungry. "I think we’ll need a little extra help with this, don’t you?" she murmurs, smiling with intent. Leaning toward Eunbi, the two share a conspiratorial look before each one lets a thin line of saliva drip down onto Eunbi’s breasts, warming the already flushed skin.
Eunbi bites her lip, her body reacting, and Yujin slides her hands over Eunbi’s chest, spreading the moisture slowly, her fingers caressing and squeezing. "This will feel even better for you," she murmurs, looking over at the camera, her voice low and sultry.
Eunbi shifts closer, pressing her breasts softly around your cock. The way they are—the skin glistening with saliva, the hard, pink nipples, the slow, careful movements—is perfection. Yujin smiles at you, dimples showing, her confidence somehow heightening the intensity of the moment.
Eunbi presses her breasts tighter around you, surrounding you in her warm softness. She begins to move in a measured rhythm as Yujin helps guide her motions, both of them keeping their eyes on you, capturing every reaction.
"Do you like it like this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice low, full of affection and lust. She quickens the pace, alternating between sultry glances your way and shared smiles with Yujin.
You can barely respond, caught up in the sight—the gentle, devoted touch of Eunbi contrasting with the predatory gleam in Yujin’s eyes as she takes in each detail, enjoying every moment.
Yujin catches the look on your face, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Oh, I think he’s loving it," she murmurs. Then she moves closer to Eunbi, licking her own lips before leaning in to kiss her.
Eunbi sighs against Yujin’s lips, her chest still pressed against you, her breasts soft and warm as she continues moving. "He loves watching us like this," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips. "Look how he’s reacting."
She turns her gaze back to you, eyes full of intent, and murmurs, "I love making you feel good, baby."
Yujin pulls Eunbi in for another kiss, deeper and more urgent. She whispers something in Eunbi’s ear, something you can’t hear but that makes Eunbi smile and press even closer, her energy insatiable.
Her hands grip tighter, intensifying the rhythm, each stroke a heated slide against your skin. Beside her, Yujin slides a hand under her own panties, barely containing her own need as she watches, fingers getting wet as she slides them into her pussy, her eyes fixed on the two of you.
"You look so damn good between her tits," Yujin purrs, a wicked smile on her lips. She pulls her hand from her panties, fingers shining, bringing them to her mouth, licking them clean while keeping her gaze locked on the scene before her. "My panties are soaked just watching," she murmurs, a laugh escaping as she bites her lip.
Spurred by Yujin’s words, Eunbi picks up the pace, her breasts squeezing tighter around you, her mouth teasing as her tongue flicks over your tip. Each time she moves down, she presses closer, feeling every throb. "God, this feels so good," you groan, "I'm so fucking turned on, babe."
Yujin lets out a moan of her own, fingers circling faster against herself. "Oh, Eunbi, you're making your boyfriend feel so good… just look at him," she taunts, licking her fingers again before slipping them back between her thighs, her wetness echoing as she loses herself to her need.
Seeing the look of heated anticipation in Yujin’s eyes, Eunbi leans in closer, pressing her breasts around you in a tighter, more intense rhythm, her mouth quirking into a teasing smile. "You want him to fuck that wet little pussy of yours, don’t you, Yujin?" she murmurs, voice low and provocative.
Yujin moans, biting her lip, her fingers digging into her own skin. "Yes… I want him. I want to feel him… all the way inside me," she whispers, her voice trembling with pure need, her eyes ravenous as they fix on you.
Eunbi chuckles softly, not missing a beat as she continues, pressing you even more firmly as she commands, "Then beg, Yujin! Beg my boyfriend, ask him to fuck you just like you want, you little slut." Her voice rings with a possessive edge that only intensifies her allure.
Yujin doesn’t hesitate. She moans louder, fingers sinking deeper as her eyes meet yours, burning with desire. "Please, baby… fuck me," she pleads, voice nearly a whimper, her face an open invitation. "I need that thick, hard cock stretching me, filling me. Please, make me yours. I want every inch of you," she begs, her words broken by gasps as she keeps touching herself, her hips moving in rhythm, fully surrendered to you.
Watching them, the desire inside you grows with each word, each desperate movement. "I'm going to give you exactly what you want, Yujin," you murmur, voice promising, sending a shiver through her. "I'm gonna wreck that pussy."
“Then do it, baby,” Eunbi urges, pulling her breasts away from your cock. “Ruin this little slut’s pussy.”
The tension in the room reaches a boiling point.
Yujin slips off her soaked panties, kicking them aside as she lies back, legs open, body utterly exposed and eager. Her eyes glint with anticipation as you position yourself between her thighs. Holding your cock firmly, you tease her entrance, just enough to feel her warmth but without fully entering. That light touch alone makes Yujin moan, her body arching, begging silently.
She glances over to Eunbi, eyes playful. “And you? Just going to stand there?” She smiles, taunting, face pure lust. “I want you here, Eunbi... want to feel you on my tongue.”
Eunbi chuckles, her laugh sultry and wicked, and without hesitation, she slips off her own panties, moving to Yujin. Smiling, she positions herself over Yujin's face, thighs spread, lowering herself just enough so Yujin can taste her as she wants. “Then make it good, Yujin,” Eunbi orders, voice low and powerful. “I want to feel every lick.”
Yujin doesn’t need another word. Gripping Eunbi's thighs, she pulls her closer, her tongue diving eagerly between her folds, sucking with a nearly desperate intensity, her muffled moans vibrating against Eunbi's body.
Meanwhile, you press a little harder against Yujin's entrance, still teasing, letting her feel each inch but still not giving in. She arches, pressing herself up to meet you, pleading silently. “Please… put it in,” she whispers, voice dripping with need as her mouth never leaves Eunbi, each lick growing more ravenous.
With a knowing smirk, you oblige.
Yujin writhes beneath you, adjusting her hips to take you fully. “Oh god! Oh- Fuck yes! This is what I wanted!” she gasps, her voice thick with desire.
Eunbi, perched over her, grips her own breasts, fingers teasing her sensitive nipples. “Yes, Yujin… keep eating me out,” she moans, voice trembling as Yujin's tongue circles, exploring every part, making Eunbi shiver on top of her. She meets your gaze, cheeks flushed, and grins wickedly. “You like watching Yujin eat me out while you fuck her, don’t you?”
“Yeah… fuck, I love it, you’re both so fucking hot,” you breathe, voice barely more than a whisper.
Yujin squirms under Eunbi’s weight, moaning into her wet pussy, the sound muffled but enough to stoke your own arousal. “Harder,” Yujin murmurs between licks, “make me feel every inch, don’t stop… I want you to fuck this tight little pussy deep.”
You pick up the pace, your hips slamming against her with more force, feeling the pressure building around you. One hand finds Yujin's clit, rubbing in slow circles, and she bucks against you, a louder moan escaping her.
Eunbi watches, biting her lip, her body tensing as Yujin devours her. “Yes, baby… keep going, fuck her deeper,” she encourages, grinding down, forcing Yujin’s mouth to work harder.
Your hand moves expertly, fingers tracing circles over Yujin’s clit while you thrust, feeling each tight pulse around your cock. With each thrust, her body arches, her face buried between Eunbi’s thighs, making her moan louder with each lick, every touch more intense.
Eunbi smiles at you, a mix of pleasure and taunt, biting her lower lip. “Go on, babe… fuck her good,” she whispers between moans, “I want to hear her scream for you.” Her words push you over, and you increase your rhythm, pounding her, Yujin’s body responding to each deep stroke. Her legs quiver, fingers gripping the sheets, nails digging in as her mouth stays busy between Eunbi’s legs.
Yujin, overwhelmed by the pleasure, lets out muffled moans, each sound vibrating against Eunbi, making her grind down, moaning even louder. “Yes… don’t stop, don’t stop,” Yujin pants, her voice broken with pleasure as her body tightens around you, breath coming in gasps.
Eunbi looks at you, her voice soft, almost a whisper, full of encouragement. “That’s it, babe… keep going… give her everything! Make her come, make her feel your cock in every inch of her,” she teases, her eyes bright as she presses down harder on Yujin’s mouth, lost in the sensation of her tongue.
You lean forward, increasing the pressure on Yujin's clit as you thrust deeper, your fingers moving faster, more insistent, the camera shaking in your other hand (you’ll thank the image stabilizer later). Yujin’s moans grow frantic, her body arching again, every muscle tense. “Yes… I’m gonna come…” she cries, her voice breaking as her body shudders in climax, while Eunbi lets out a cry of her own, lost in the rhythm of Yujin’s tongue.
Yujin’s entire body shakes, muscles tight as she surrenders completely, her voice hoarse, almost shouting. “Ah… don’t… don’t stop… it’s so good, so… ahhh, yes! Harder… more… I…!”
Your fingers press down harder on her clit, stroking in time with each thrust as you sink deeper, feeling every pulse of her tight little pussy. Yujin bites her lip, a choked scream escaping as her hands grip the sheets, eyes squeezing shut, lost in ecstasy. “Oh… my… god… I’m… ahhh, I’m coming, don’t stop, please!”
Eunbi, still perched over Yujin, watches, eyes bright with arousal, her own moans heightening as she sees Yujin’s state. She urges you on, her voice soft but fervent. “Yes, babe! Make this slut come on your cock… make her lose control!”
Then, Yujin’s body seizes, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she squirts over your thighs and onto the sheets. “Ahhhh! Yes… yes… ahhh! I’m- Oh God! Mmm, I’m coming…!” Yujin practically sobs, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through her, surrendering fully to the overwhelming intensity.
Eunbi lifts herself, lips parted, watching Yujin with awe. “My god, Yujin… look what he’s done to you,” she murmurs, barely holding back her own desire.
Still flushed and breathing heavily, Yujin laughs quietly, her cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, body still tingling from the aftermath. “Fuck… that cock… made me come so good,” she whispers with a smile, gaze locked on you.
Eunbi, eyes alight with a mix of possessiveness and lust, gives you a provocative smile, biting her lower lip. “So… now you’re going to fuck your girlfriend, aren’t you?” Her voice is laced with challenge and excitement. She positions herself at the edge of the bed, on all fours, ass lifted toward you, offering you the perfect view, while Yujin moves up, legs spread wide in front of your girlfriend.
With a mischievous glint, she spreads her wet folds with her fingers, beckoning Eunbi’s face closer. “Come, Eunbi… lick me while he fucks you,” she whispers, her hand gripping Eunbi’s hair, guiding her closer. “Yes, give me that tongue… show me how well you can eat pussy,” Yujin continues, moaning as Eunbi’s mouth begins to work on her.
Standing behind, you position your cock and slide slowly into Eunbi, feeling her hot, tight walls surround you. A groan escapes your lips as you sink deeper into her, each inch pulling you in. “Fuck, Eunbi… you’re so wet… so good,” you whisper, lost in the intense pleasure.
Eunbi, gasping between licks on Yujin, pants. “Yes, babe… fuck me… deeper… I want to feel you filling me.” She moves back against you, hips circling, each thrust pulling you in further, her ass trembling with each motion, every deep stroke drawing fresh moans from her.
Yujin, delirious from the feel of Eunbi’s tongue against her dripping cunt, grabs her hair, pulling just a little to savor every lick even deeper. “Ahhh, Eunbi, just like that… keep going… Mmm, you're such a slut!” she breathes, her words slipping between moans, eyes squeezed shut as each brush of that soft, wet tongue over her sensitive folds drives her wild.
The tension surges as you thrust deeper, your hands gripping Eunbi’s hips tightly, each push pulling louder, needier sounds from her. “Fuck… so tight,” you murmur, feeling her wetness, her warmth, tightening around every inch as you plunge in. Eunbi can barely keep up as she sucks Yujin, her own body trembling, pressing back against you, every move inviting you to go harder, deeper.
Yujin watches, her lips parted, a throaty moan escaping as she locks eyes with the sight of you taking your girlfriend. “Mmm, fuck,” she chuckles between moans, “You two are so fucking hot!”
Your grip on Eunbi’s waist tightens, her slick cunt clenching around you, and you lean close to her ear. “I’m taking that sweet ass next, babe.” She shivers, biting her lip, and breathes a shaky response. “Yeah, do it… fuck my ass… I want it,” she whimpers, her voice thick with excitement and anticipation.
You guide yourself, pressing the head of your cock slowly against her tight little opening, watching her stretch to take you in. Bit by bit, you slide forward, filling her.
“Ahhh… so tight,” you murmur, your breaths ragged as you film every inch with the new camera, capturing in 4K the way her snug ass opens around you. Eunbi lets out a loud moan, her head thrown back. “Yes, take it… let him wreck that ass,” Yujin whispers to her, reaching down to touch herself as she watches.
“Yes… yes, fuck my ass… fill me, go deeper…,” Eunbi moans, her voice quivering, her whole body alight as you sink in.
Holding her hip firmly, you draw her back, your cock fitting fully inside her tight hole, feeling each part of her yielding to your slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low groan, head thrown back, face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.
“Ohh, yeah… keep going… fill me up, I can take it,” she moans, eyes half-lidded, biting her lip, face flushed in pure ecstasy. Each thrust is a new adjustment, feeling her intense tightness, each slide bringing a fresh wave of sensation. “You love this, don’t you, you little slut?” you taunt, voice gravelly, pushing deeper.
Eunbi squirms, her body trembling with each thrust. “Mmm, Yes! Fuck, I love feeling you wreck me… Keep using me, babe, keep- Oh! Like that, baby! Yeah!” she responds, voice shaky, cut off by erratic moans, completely surrendered. With each thrust, the wet, filthy sounds fill the room, bodies colliding in raw, unrestrained passion.
Yujin, still watching close by, runs a hand down her own dripping pussy, eyes fixed on the scene, filled with lust. “God, look at her… you’re destroying her ass,” she whispers, her voice loaded with excitement.
Your firm grip on Eunbi’s hips pulls her back, every inch sinking deep into her tight little ass, feeling her muscles surrender to the slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low moan, her head thrown back, her face mixing pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.
"Fuck, babe, watching you eat her pussy gets me so fucking hot," you growl, voice rough, thrusting even deeper. Your hand rises, landing a hard slap on her ass.
“Ow, babe! Yes, slap me! Don’t stop, wreck my little ass, fuck me good!”
Eunbi's moans fill the room, blending with the sound of your hips colliding with her body. Each movement is met with a sharp smack that leaves her skin tingling. “Ahhh, harder… fuck, go deeper… break me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, totally lost in the intense pleasure as you keep pounding, every slap drawing a new moan, louder and dripping with lust.
Yujin, lying on the bed with her legs spread, holds Eunbi’s face firmly, guiding her back to keep licking. “You two are going to make me cum just watching… keep sucking, baby… Mmm, yeah! Just like that! I’m so close, don’t stop!” Yujin moans, her voice trembling as her body arches, writhing with pleasure under Eunbi’s relentless tongue work. Eunbi’s mouth moves faster, sucking with fervor.
“Yeah, Yujin, cum all over her mouth… let my girl taste you,” you say, watching the wild scene unfolding, slowing your thrusts to let Eunbi focus on making Yujin climax. Your girlfriend responds with a muffled moan, intensifying her movements, eyes shut tight in pure concentration, determined to bring Yujin to the edge.
Eunbi feels Yujin’s body tense under her tongue, each shudder racing through her like a live current, her moans rising until they turn into raw, guttural cries. “Ahhh… yes, Eunbi… right there… make me cum, don’t stop!” Yujin practically screams, her nails digging into the sheets, back arching, utterly lost in the moment. Her breaths come fast, each gasp a wave, as Eunbi continues licking with unwavering devotion, her tongue tracing and exploring every wet, trembling inch.
Eunbi, lips and mouth fully devoted to Yujin’s pleasure, mutters through a mouth full of desire, “Cum for me, you dirty slut.” She grips Yujin’s thighs, pulling her closer, not letting any motion escape, savoring every drop. Yujin, utterly spent, sinks her head into the pillows, moaning as the waves of an overwhelming orgasm crash over her.
“Fuck, Eunbi… ahhhh… I’m cumming… cumming in your mouth…!” Yujin gasps, lost in breathless moans and broken cries.
Eunbi’s tongue laps eagerly, drinking in every drop of the hot release that spills from Yujin. She swallows it all, low moans vibrating as she savors the rich taste. With her face still glistening, Eunbi leans back, enough to release a heavy sigh, feeling you sliding your cock in and out, slow and deliberate. “Ahh… I’m close too… almost there,” she whispers, voice thick with need. Yujin, still basking in the glow, laughs softly, a wicked gleam in her eye, as she slowly rises, hand reaching out to take the camera from you with a playful grin. “Let me handle this now… it’s time to make this sexy girl lose it.”
You pull slowly out of Eunbi’s ass, watching her shiver from the sudden emptiness. Now with the camera in Yujin’s hands, the heat in the room rises even more. “I’m capturing everything from this angle… from below, catching every detail.” She asks Eunbi to stand up, guiding you both to place a leg on the bed, opening up to the camera’s raw, unfiltered view.
The two of you follow, adjusting your legs as Yujin instructed, exposing your bodies fully to the camera’s keen eye. Breathing heavily, Eunbi steadies herself, half-closed eyes watching as you position yourself behind her, ready to continue. Yujin kneels just beneath her, angling the camera from the floor so it perfectly captures your cock lined up to press back into Eunbi’s ass, her face already anticipating the pleasure. “Go on, honey… I want to see you ruin her ass.” Yujin murmurs, her voice thick with desire.
With a firm grip on Eunbi’s hips, you press against her tight entrance once more, pushing slowly until you’re fully inside. Eunbi cries out, her head tilting back as Yujin looks up, licking her lips. “That’s it, fill her up… I want to hear her moaning for you.” As the camera rolls, Yujin leans closer to Eunbi’s wet pussy, diving in hungrily, tongue exploring every part while the lens captures every second in vivid detail.
You clutch Eunbi’s hips tightly, thrusting deep into her tight ass, each stroke pulling raw, almost pleading moans from her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked on every side like a dirty little slut,” you whisper, watching her face twist in pleasure, that wild glint in her eyes.
“Mmm, yes… yes!” Eunbi cries, barely able to form words as Yujin, still on her knees between Eunbi’s parted thighs, eats her out with hungry intent, focusing especially on her swollen, sensitive clit, licking and pulsing rapidly. “You love this, don’t you?” Yujin murmurs against her wet skin, voice tinged with mischief. “Having your man destroy your ass while I lick your wet pussy!”
“Mmm, Yeah! I love this so much, I feel so slutty.… don’t stop… fuck my ass harder, baby!” Eunbi begs, clutching her own breasts, every word punctuated by broken moans, Yujin’s fingers digging into her thighs, holding them wide open. You pick up speed, thrusting deeper, feeling her body tighten, her ass squeezing around your big cock as she surrenders completely, every inch of her body pulsing with ecstasy.
“She’s almost there, honey,” Yujin says, looking up at you with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Make her scream, baby, make sure she knows who’s in charge.”
Eunbi writhes, half-closed eyes and face fully given over to pleasure, as you pound into her tight ass harder with each thrust. Her body quivers with each plunge, tense muscles, guttural moans spilling from her lips. Yujin, eyes fixed on Eunbi’s delirious expression, slips two fingers deep into her creamy pussy, moving with steady, firm thrusts, filling the room with the obscene, wet sounds of her every movement.
“Ah… yes… yes!” Eunbi nearly screams, the sound choked by your relentless pace. Yujin leans down again, mouth capturing her sensitive clit, making a lewd sucking sound, her fingers sliding in and out of that creamy, soaking pussy, her hand slick with the hot juices flowing in response. Eunbi’s body arches, utterly surrendered to both of you, every nerve alive with intense, violent pleasure.
Then suddenly, she can’t hold back—the climax hits her like a tidal wave. Eunbi’s eyes roll back, seized by an orgasm that takes control of her, body twisting, clenching in spasms as she cries out, a release that nearly takes her breath away. Her pussy tightens hard around Yujin’s fingers, releasing waves of hot juice as her ass contracts around your cock, like she’s trying to keep you inside, each pulsing contraction showing just how intensely she feels it.
“That’s it, baby… cum for us,” you murmur, Yujin’s fingers still working quickly, every motion drawing more aftershocks until Eunbi nearly collapses, trembling uncontrollably.
You hold Eunbi close against you, feeling each spasm slowly easing, her soft tremors still rippling through her body as the final waves of her orgasm fade. Her sweaty, flushed face rests on your shoulder, eyes closed, a look of pure satisfaction on her lips as she feels you slipping out of her, inch by inch.
Yujin rises slowly, her gaze smoldering as she looks at both of you, her mouth still glistening with Eunbi's essence. She finally unhooks her bra, tossing it aside, and without a word, pulls you in for a deep kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth, unashamedly sharing the salty, tangy taste of your girlfriend’s pussy, still hot on her lips. It's a slow, wet kiss, where she delights in teasing you, her mouth moving with a firmness that leaves you tense, craving more.
Eunbi, still catching her breath, practically purrs with desire, her half-lidded eyes watching the two of you devour each other. “I want some too,” she murmurs, her voice husky, almost a moan. Yujin smiles against your lips, then pulls Eunbi close, bringing the three of you together in a kiss dripping with lust.
Your tongues meet, sliding against each other in a hot, chaotic frenzy, the taste of Eunbi mingling between you all. The three of you breathe harder, each of you more ravenous than the last, devouring one another with no reservations. Yujin whispers something between kisses, her voice a mischievous murmur. “You two drive me crazy... so delicious,” she says, her hand slipping to the nape of Eunbi’s neck, holding her firmly as she deepens the kiss, tongues tangling and teasing with each motion.
Eunbi moans softly against both your mouths, eyes closed, her fingers tracing along your thigh, slowly rising, each touch light and tempting. “You and her made me cum so good, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispers, her face so close you feel the heat of her words. “But now, I want to see you cum for us…”
Yujin joins her, “Yes, baby, cover our faces with that hot cum.” The perverted tone in her voice only intensifies the heat pooling in your body.
“If that’s what you want, then both of you, get on your knees.”
Without hesitation, they sink down slowly, their eyes locked on yours, each movement a show of submission and desire. Eunbi kneels on your right, Yujin to your left, the two of them exchanging knowing looks and smiling, as if they already know what’s coming. Both of their faces glow with anticipation, mouths slightly parted, hungry gazes that don’t waver for a second.
You lean down, picking up the camera and angling it to capture every detail from above. The image on the screen shows Eunbi and Yujin looking up, lascivious smiles on their lips, eyes alight with excitement as they wait eagerly. “Look at you two,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration and provocation. “My girls, so beautiful and submissive, ready to take my load.”
Yujin starts first, gripping firmly as her tongue slides over the tip, already slick with pre-cum. “Mmm... love your taste,” she murmurs, before opening her mouth and taking in the head, sucking slowly, feeling you throb against her tongue.
Eunbi watches, biting her lip, and soon joins in, leaning in to press soft kisses along the base while her hands caress your thighs and stomach, nails skimming your skin, leaving a trail of shivers. “Give us that hot load, baby,” she whispers with a voice full of desire, before licking slowly from the base to the middle of your shaft, leaving a wet trail as her eyes meet yours.
They take turns as if rehearsed, Yujin licking the frenulum with precision that makes you moan low, the tip of her tongue making slow, firm circles. Eunbi kisses along the length, making every inch wet and slick, creating a mix of warmth and moisture that leaves you harder than ever. “It’s so big… feels so good in my mouth,” she says, her hands stroking you as she looks up, that naughty smile on her face.
Yujin pulls Eunbi closer and murmurs, “Let’s show him how well we take care of him…” Together, they begin running their tongues along the length of your cock, one on each side, meeting at the tip, exchanging a glance before diving back in, Yujin sucking the head while Eunbi gently sucks on your balls, her lips wrapping around them softly, alternating between kisses and gentle sucks.
“You’re both going to make me cum like this…” you groan, unable to hold back the rising pleasure. Yujin looks up, her lips still wrapped around you, and mutters in a husky voice, “Then cum… we want every drop…”
They both intensify, Eunbi now holding the base firmly while Yujin begins to stroke you.
You feel control slipping away and warn, “I’m close…,” your voice hoarse, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Yujin keeps sucking the tip, her lips pressing against the frenulum with calculated precision.
The pleasure builds, your whole body tense as Yujin and Eunbi wait, kneeling and ravenous, their beautiful faces filled with anticipation. Yujin’s grip tightens, her hand moving faster and firmer as she watches you, her gaze fixed on your face, studying every reaction with visible satisfaction. “That’s it, keep going... let us feel everything,” she whispers, and increases the rhythm, sliding her hand with steady, relentless strokes, pushing you over the limit.
Eunbi watches each moment, licking her lips and sharing a provocative look with Yujin. “Go ahead, baby, don’t hold back,” she murmurs, her voice soft but urgent, her fingers moving slowly over your balls, pressing lightly, matching the pace of Yujin’s strokes, both of them fully focused on taking you to the peak.
Feeling the imminent release, you give a low warning, “I’m... I’m gonna cum…” They both smile, faces eager and hungry, leaning in closer, offering their faces as canvases ready to receive every drop. The first spurt erupts powerfully, thick and hot, hitting Yujin squarely, dribbling down her cheek to her parted lips. She moans low, an expression of absolute pleasure as the cum slides down, licking the edge of her lips, savoring it slowly,”Mmm, so fucking good!” she sighs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Cum more, baby, please!”
The second spurt lands on Eunbi, splashing across her forehead and dripping down her face. She moans loudly, closing her eyes and leaning forward for more, letting the cum glide down her skin with a satisfied smile. “God... you came so much, baby,” she murmurs, licking her upper lip, tasting your release.
You’re not done yet, the accumulated pleasure so intense that the third burst shoots out forcefully, landing right between the two of them. They look at each other, faces messy and glistening with your cum, eyes sparking with desire as each lets her tongue slide slowly, teasingly, toward the spot where the last drop fell. You hold the camera steady, capturing every detail: the hungry gaze they share, the tips of their tongues meeting right in the center of that thick, warm mixture.
Yujin is the first to lean in, her tongue moving slowly across Eunbi’s cheek, licking a trail of your cum dripping down her face, savoring every inch with deliberate care. “Mmm, so good… hot and thick, just like I imagined,” she whispers, looking at you with a wicked smile before turning back to Eunbi.
Eunbi lets out a low moan, leaning in toward Yujin, her tongue finding drops at the corner of her friend’s mouth, and then her tongue slides a little further, sucking Yujin's chin, where there is a good portion of your cum accumulated. “Your cum tastes so good, baby,” Eunbi murmurs.
With the camera close, you capture the moment they start rubbing their tongues against each other, every movement intense, almost primal. Yujin chuckles softly, her hand caressing Eunbi’s face as she pulls her closer, lifting her own face slightly to spit onto Eunbi’s tongue, who receives it without hesitation. Yujin’s own tongue slides into Eunbi’s mouth with torturous slowness, mixing more of your cum with the taste of each other, low sounds of satisfaction echoing through the room.
Their mouths meet in a final, deep, wet, filthy kiss, licking and sucking everything away. The camera captures the final image: both of them with faces painted in your cum, eyes shining, wicked and satisfied.
You bring the camera closer, capturing every detail of their faces, smeared and glistening with the remnants of your pleasure. With a satisfied smile, you murmur, “Fuck, you two look absolutely gorgeous like this, my perfect cumsluts…” They look at each other and burst into laughter, a sweet, shared laugh, with that glint of someone who’s gone all the way and loved every second of it.
Yujin, wiping a last drop off Eunbi’s brow with her thumb, looks straight into the camera and, with a playful grin, asks, “So… did you enjoy this delicious experience? Was it worth it?”
You smile, nodding as the camera remains focused on their expressions. “It was perfect. Better than I could have imagined.” Eunbi, still catching her breath with cheeks flushed, admits with a satisfied sigh, “I… had no idea it would feel this good. You two… it was indescribable.”
Yujin wraps an arm around Eunbi and says warmly, “I knew you’d love it! Thank you for trusting me and diving in. You were both incredible.”
“Now… how about a little farewell for our audience?” you suggest, your tone playful. The two exchange a glance, and without hesitation, they press their cheeks together, bringing their hands up in a cute little wave, blowing kisses toward the camera. “Thank you for watching… see you next time!” they say in unison, an adorable tone that contrasts with what just happened, laughing softly as they say goodbye with their faces close, sharing light, carefree giggles.
You capture the final frame—two beautiful women, utterly relaxed, eyes still sparkling with excitement, completely caught up in the moment. With a final sigh, you end the recording, knowing you're one lucky fucking man.
You step out of the shower feeling like a conqueror of the world—or at least of your own little, unexpected corner of it. The coolness of the water still seems to dance over your skin, every muscle relaxed, every thought light, as if all the effort of the day had evaporated away. You throw on a T-shirt and loose pants and head into the living room, where the stars of the day—Eunbi and Yujin—are already settled in, looking comfortable, like veterans of many such adventures (and maybe, in Yujin’s case, that’s not far from the truth).
Eunbi is curled up in a hoodie three sizes too big, looking perfectly cozy, while Yujin’s wrapped in one of Eunbi’s borrowed robes, savoring a generous spoonful of ice cream.
“So, how are you two feeling?” you ask, the excitement in your voice almost dancing by itself.
The two exchange a knowing smile. “Relaxed,” Eunbi answers with a soft smile, her eyes still sparkling.
“Alive,” Yujin adds, pausing only to take another spoonful of ice cream. Then she turns to Eunbi with a casual look and a curious smile. “And the jealousy, honey? How’d you hold up?”
Eunbi blushes, but she doesn’t look away, accepting the question as a challenge. “You know… at first, yeah. It was hard seeing him… connecting with someone else. But as I watched how much he was enjoying it… I don’t know, I think I started enjoying it, too.”
Yujin laughs softly, clearly pleased. “Now that’s the spirit. And can I just say? For your first time with a girl, you were amazing.” She regards Eunbi with playful admiration. “And I’m not just talking about technique, you know? It was more… your enthusiasm.”
Eunbi blushes even more but doesn’t lose her smile. “Well… you made it easy.”
Yujin turns to you with that look of someone sharing the world’s most obvious secret, adding, “And you… I have to say, those guys who seem quiet and reserved… they always end up being the best. Must be something to do with… attention to detail.”
You chuckle awkwardly, trying to hide the satisfaction that still shows. “Look, I never… really imagined I’d be… with two incredible women like this.” You try, but words don’t seem to be enough.
“Oh, and getting paid for it, no less! How do you manage it?”
“The money and the adventures are great,” you begin, feeling a sudden inspiration, “but seeing my girl happy is what really matters to me. I’m just in this for her, and for as far as she wants to go.”
Yujin gives a playful look between you and Eunbi. “See? You two have something special. Most couples wouldn’t even consider this, but you? You’re here, having fun, creating intimate and unique memories, just embracing it all. No bullshit.”
Eunbi, still smiling with a mix of pride and tenderness, sighs. “Yeah… but honestly? I think what makes it work is that we… talk. Like, really talk.”
“Yes,” Yujin adds, “that’s rarer than it sounds. And don’t get me wrong, sometimes just the… physical part is great, you know? But having someone who understands and supports you? That’s the hard part to find.” She gives a soft, almost sentimental smile before diving back into her ice cream as if it were the last of its kind.
“So, is it time for your podcast with Sana now?” Eunbi asks.
Yujin nods eagerly. “Yep, straight from a hot session with you two to the spotlight.”
You laugh lightly. “Can’t believe we have a celebrity in our apartment. How do you handle all these commitments?”
She leans in with an exaggerated expression of importance, pretending to adjust an invisible crown. “Oh, darlings, you’re in the presence of a businesswoman. Important, in-demand, and… completely devoted to this fantastic ice cream!”
Eunbi smiles, her eyes shining with admiration. “I’m going to watch the episode! Bet you’ll steal the show!”
“You… err… You two are just so sweet, you know?” Yujin murmurs, but her voice breaks, a sudden, unexpected emotion making her words stumble. Tears start forming silently in her eyes as she tries, comically, to keep devouring the ice cream as if nothing’s happening. She laughs, a clumsy sob escaping as tears fall without ceremony. “Sorry, it’s just… you know, it’s so good. This ice cream… is emotionally very intense, I guess. It just caught me off guard.”
Eunbi, a bit alarmed, asks softly, “Yujin, are you okay?”
“Of course!” Yujin laughs again, still mixing her shaky voice with humor to brush it off. “It’s just… it’s like everything hit me all at once, you know? Just… tired. But nothing serious.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, smiling. “It’s not depression or anything, okay? Just a bit of burnout. Something light. Normal.”
You watch the tension unwind from her face, layer by layer, and feel something more than curiosity—real concern, that uncomfortable feeling of seeing someone who seemed unbreakable finally give way. You sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her with almost reverent care.
“Yujin,” you say, your voice low and steady. “If you need anything, anything at all…”
Yujin looks up, a little surprised, then smiles. It’s almost a painful smile, one that won’t quite admit that maybe, just maybe, she really does need that offer of help. She shakes her head. “No, really, you two are sweethearts. It’s just… you know, sometimes it’s all a bit too much. And then I forget. Forget to breathe. Forget to… I don’t know… take care of myself a little.”
Eunbi watches her closely, as if trying to decipher every word, every nuance. “It’s okay, you know? If you want to cancel the podcast… Sana will understand. It’s just one episode.”
Yujin takes a deep breath and shakes her head, this time with a determined look. “Oh, no… Sana is… Sana is one of the good ones. I want to go. It’ll be fun, I just need a little… I don’t know, pep talk, maybe?” She gives a short laugh, but sadness lingers there, lurking, and her hand still trembles slightly as she sets her ice cream bowl on the coffee table.
Eunbi, however, doesn’t give up. She holds Yujin’s hand between hers, firm and warm, grounding her, and says with a soft but resolute voice, “Yujin, no matter what happens… we’re here. For anything you need, really.”
For the first time, Yujin looks at you both without any of her usual masks, and you see a glimmer of something vulnerable, almost fragile. She opens her mouth, and for a moment, you think she might say something heavy, something real. But instead, she lets out a dry, melancholy laugh.
“Look at me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Here I am, getting all emotional, babbling a bunch of nonsense. God, I can be so ridiculous sometimes! But now that's enough, no more crying here! And I'm sorry about this, guys."
She gives you and Eunbi a look full of tenderness, as if she wants to capture this moment, this presence, this support that maybe, she hadn’t expected. She jokes, her voice still a bit shaky: “You know what? What if the three of us just formed a throuple, huh? A modern fairytale, all ours.”
You all laugh, the tension finally melting away. She wipes the tears from her eyes, standing up with a renewed energy. “Just kidding, of course. You two are wonderful together. If I joined this story, I’d probably just ruin the magic.” She shrugs, adjusting her borrowed robe. “Besides, I like having the bed all to myself. You know, no fighting over the blanket.”
Later, in the dark bedroom, you're completely out, already dreaming about absurdly nonsensical things. But Eunbi is nowhere near sleep. She’s lying there, shifting restlessly, as if waiting for you to wake up and ask what's wrong; finally, she loses patience and nudges your shoulder. Once, twice, three times, until you make some indistinct noise halfway between a snore and a "huh?"
“Are you awake, babe?” she asks, like the repeated pokes hadn’t already given her the answer.
“Now I am,” you mumble, still keeping your eyes closed. “Not like I wanted to sleep or anything.”
“Stop being silly,” she says, but her voice is soft, almost hesitant. There’s something in it that makes you crack one eye open. “I’m worried about Yujin.”
You turn to look at her, blinking in the dark to focus. “Hmm, Yujin? The same Yujin who posted stories just a few hours ago, smiling on the plane? The same Yujin who left our apartment on the phone about a sponsorship offer from a... vibrator brand?”
Eunbi sighs. “Yes, I know. But still… that doesn’t mean she’s actually okay.”
You let out a tired sigh, remembering how Yujin was—laughing, having fun, brimming with an energy that seemed unbreakable. Until, of course, she randomly started crying. “Yeah, that was… weird. But you’ve done that too, you know? I’ve seen you start crying out of nowhere sometimes.”
“That’s when I’m on my period, you dummy,” she mutters, resting a light but ‘threatening’ hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle smack. “Totally different.”
You laugh, pulling her a little closer. “Alright, alright. But seriously, babe, Yujin’s an adult, you know? I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had a moment like that.”
“I know, but… should I have insisted that she rest?”
“You did more than enough,” you say softly. “She knows we were there for her. And I’m sure she’s grateful for that, you know? Just because she projects that ‘I’m indestructible’ vibe doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the support. If she needs anything, she’ll text you or some other friend. She’s fine, don’t worry.”
Eunbi sighs again, but there’s a bit more ease in it this time. “Maybe you’re right…”
“Of course I am,” you say, pulling her in even closer. “And besides, we’re gonna see her again, remember? We’re gonna film more stuff together. We’ll get used to her freaking out, laughing, crying… it’s all part of the package.”
Eunbi raises an eyebrow, feigning a jealous look. “Oh, yeah? Who says we’re filming with her again? Did you like her that much?”
You chuckle, catching her playful tone. “Obviously. All for your success, babe. It’s just strategic thinking, you know?”
She laughs, giving your chest a light smack. “Alright, strategist. I'm just kidding. It was really fun, the whole… experience.”
“Good. Now, go to sleep,” you say, exhausted.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Oh, I like that,” you joke.
She rolls her eyes in the dark and replies, “Don’t even start.”
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hoseoksluna · 4 months ago
Text
A CELEBRATION OF 2K FOLLOWERS — PLEASANT, GOOD AND MERCIFUL | jjk
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pairing: non-idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader 
genre: smut, angst, fluff — the whole package
word count: 8.9k
summary: jungkook wanted to make the night better for you—but what he didn't expect is that he would come across his true, unabashed self while doing so.
taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3
warnings: jungkook, physical violence, jungkook is wearing that mesh top and that exact outfit (god, help me) and he's horny (god, help me again), abandonment issues, dissociation, panic mode, fear, swear words, dom/sub dynamics, protected sex, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat:), teasing, pda, jungkook smokes and jungkook uses his busan accent (you have been warned), religion, praying, anxiety, hyper-independence, trust issues, begging, a little bit of a praise kink — barely, cowgirl:).
note: because we hit 2k incredible followers, i prepared this for you, my babies. a full fucking package of drama, smut, angst and fluff—all from jungkook's own pov!!!!! this is all for you bc i love you sm. thank you, guys, so much for being here with me, sticking around and reading my stupid fics. enjoy this one shot and let me know what you think. i'm sending you so many kisses until you get sick of me. seriously. i won't stop. i love you. MWAHMWAHMWAHMWAHMHWA.
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It is a lucid dream, really, the way the lustrous colors of the fireworks bloom across the charcoal sky. They intertwine with the darkened clouds, like vines of wild flowers, that try and fail to remain hidden and Jungkook thinks you burst with even richer, emotive colors. 
With your kaleidoscopic glitter on the high points of your cheeks, and the tiny stars that you stuck on each arch of your brow. 
He can feel the vibration of the deep bass, belonging to the music, coursing down your chest as he stands behind you, drifting his hands down the upper half of your body while the rest of the strangers are hypnotized by the rapper on stage that he has very little knowledge of. The reason why he paid for the tickets, pumped a full tank of gas, drove you all the way to the countryside outside of the normality of your daily life and never let go of your hand—despite the fact they grew uncomfortably clammy due to the stifling heat—was because you loved the man. The vulgar headliner, whose lyrics nearly made his eyes fall out of his sockets once he fully and consciously listened to the songs that you always sing when you do your makeup or hum at random times when you’re doing your own thing. 
And what’s worse, it made his dick hard when he heard you scream out the swear words and the filthy imagery painted in the vivaciousness of the songs.
You, who scarcely cursed. 
Who omitted the vulgarity when rapping along. 
He doesn’t think he ever caught those words coming out of your mouth. Not even when he was balls-deep in you. 
Multiple times. 
It had only been four months ago when he found you and his long silent heart gained your voice. It was the sweetest, most languid sound that ever graced his ears and in an instant, you became a fleshly sanctuary of serenity. One he would find himself needing more often than he liked because the truth is—Jungkook doesn’t date. 
He considers relationships an unnecessary house of pain. If he spends a long time there, he forgets what the outside world looks like. Forgets how to get home. Forgets the roads and the rules and moralities of life and society because, deep down, he lets go of himself for the girl. 
He would kill a soul if she found herself needing it. Or at least destroy one so she would have a peace of mind. 
Break hands and break noses of people who looked at her wrong. 
That’s who he is and as much as he tried to change it, he failed every time. Failed like the clouds up above. His effort to stay hidden from you vanished into thin air because you would invariably find him and his heart would start praying with your voice. The pathetic thing would beg for mercy from the world. His knees would wobble and he’d let them sink right in front of you—all because of your deeply inert calmness and briskness that would, strangely, pour the nectar of mollification over his bloodstream. 
And he gave in to you because you didn’t ask, nor expect, anything from him. 
You didn’t do what the others did. 
You were independent and so full of life, of a different world, one he wanted to take a peek inside. 
And what he didn’t predict was that the road would be molded for his feet. And once he kissed you and learned the ins and outs of your intellect and the chambers of your heart, he still remembered the streets that line the outside world—its names, even. He remembered the address of his own apartment building, the number to his door and to the pass code. 
And so did you. 
You didn’t ask him to kill for you. And you didn’t ask him for tickets to see your favorite artists. 
He did it because he unreservedly loved you. 
And here you are, giggling, rubbing your little ass up against his groin and he detects happiness prickling his nerve endings. His hands are enveloped, snugly, as if no one was around and the artists traveled across the country for you, around your waist while your hands are up in the air, pointed fingers erect, dipping up and down to the rhythm of the music. 
And what he could never predict, not even in a million years—he’s enjoying himself. Feels the traces of the same vibrations ricocheting off your back into his chest, where the song enlivens him. 
He’s enjoying himself because you are enjoying yourself, brimming with elation and the radiance of your smile as you laugh, dance and scream out curse words that he’s equally enjoying hearing. 
Jungkook makes a mental note to pull those sounds out of you later in the early hours. 
And then you turn around, surprising him. You cup the side of his neck while you point that index finger in his face, screaming out the lyrics. And Jungkook regards it so overwhelming that he can only stare. Doesn’t know the lyrics to scream them back at you and make your experience better, but he’s learning them as he’s consuming them from you, his eyes tracing over each movement of your mouth that engraves them in his brain. He feels your hips moving under his palm at the bottom of your spine and when you roll your body forward, colliding into his like a star that meets its lover once only to never see it again, and brush your lips against his—he’s so horny and so in love with you that his eyes wet, his emotions rushing in and clouding his sight. 
The background fades out, fully, into the charcoal of the night, the colored lights softening and it’s just you that is the distribution of incandescence for the people present—and for him. And then you go down, dragging your hands down his stomach and his thighs, only to spring right up, grab his hips and make that collision happen—against the laws of the universe. 
A different star. A special one. 
Out of his darkened peripheral view, he can sense the audience having a way better time than they did before you turned around to face him. But Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck. 
Not when his cock is so tight in his pants. 
Thankfully, you’re obscuring it with the shape of your delightful body. He thinks he’s going to run with you to his car, pump more adrenaline into your body, so you can refresh the drowsy grass with a pristine layer of dew through the sound of your laughter. He also wonders if you’re wet yourself underneath that gray dress of yours and just as he’s about to lean over and yell that question into your ear, you turn around and get ready for the next song. 
And catch the glance of some guy to your right as you do. Jungkook grits his jaw because you linger for a second longer that he doesn’t particularly like.
A certain fever poisons his veins, but at the same time he feels the pinpricks of a cold sweat at the top of his spine. Who the fuck does he think he is, staring at his girl like that? 
But when he follows that line of the half broken gaze, he finds the guy’s slender face scrunched up in disgust. 
Oh, Jungkook might be ready to throw some hands and get him kicked out of this place, tell the cops it was all him so you can continue enjoying yourself in his arms. He’s seen some people sticking their tongues down their partner’s throat and he’s giving you a dirty look for dancing? 
This can easily be his very last night alive. 
Instinctively, Jungkook bunches up his fists and he’s ready to go after him, but you scream out and emit out your excitement, taking a deep breath to go absolutely mad as the rapper begins to perform the song that he’s heard you jamming out to the most. You take his hands, beaming at him from behind, and uncurl them on your tummy. Your glance was too brief and there’s still a furrow to his brows and now he worries you think he’s being a buzzkill. He doesn’t want to ruin the night for you, so he draws in closer to the crook of your neck and begins to dance, softly, with you. Your hands intertwine with his and you bang them in the air, jumping up and down at the bridge of the song that the headliner hypes up. 
And then you’re singing in a different language and he’s done for, his heart tightening in his chest. The one he’s heard your mother talk in over the phone while you replied in English. Jungkook squeezes you so hard and you let him, your smile growing. Your voice is more throatier and low-pitched and Jungkook senses your foreignness swathing his cock and he knows there’s a bigger tent in his pants. He presses it against you, makes you feel it and you throw your delicious ass. 
His eyes nearly go cross-eyed as he rolls them back, tilting his head. The wind sweeps across the sweat of his exposed forehead, sifting through his hair and he can’t wait any longer. Desire has overpowered the poison in his veins in such a mighty way and he begins to stand in the middle of a crossroad. 
Wait forty five minutes until the rapper finishes the show and then get stuck in the crowd as everyone tries to leave at once. 
Or wait two more minutes and then bolt to the car to fuck your brains out. There’s a higher chance you and him won’t be caught sinning in the backseat. It’s midnight and the villagers are asleep. And in the forty minutes, while everyone enjoys the last show, he can make you come so many times and ascertain that your experience will be heightened and ultimately better. 
He’s also sure you’ll be able to hear him—if he leaves the window open a little bit. 
He’s ready to turn you around, the decision throbbing in his sternum, but you make the move first. Swiveling on your feet, your body faces him, though your head doesn’t. Once again, he follows your gaze. You scowl at the guy, your brows knitting and your glossy mouth rounding before moving into the shape of the lyrics. You throw a dirty look his way one last time and Jungkook laughs in pride, his heart constricting in the love he bears for you, and he pulls you in, disposed to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck and open your mouth just as he kisses you—and it’s you who darts out their tongue, rolling it against his. Jungkook squeezes your bum, slapping it gently—and it’s simultaneous the way you and him both peek at the guy’s reaction. 
The fucker is grinning. 
You give him a vulgar gesture, the moonless blue light enveloping around your middle finger. 
Jungkook laughs so hard that heads turn in his direction and he’s fucking delighted. You devour it with your mouth, sucking his lips so intensely that he stops breathing. He senses you sealing it in him and he can’t wait any longer. 
He needs you and he tells you. 
Breaking the lip lock, he peppers kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear, wafting his hot breath there. He feels the gooseflesh on your arm right upon his ear, too, and electricity courses down his stomach. Fuck, he loves it so much. Thinks you’re so incredible and he wants to fuck that fact into your guts. 
“Let’s get out of here. I want you,” he rasps, drifting his hand up your bum to the ends of your hair, bunching them in his fist. “I want to give you this dick. You deserve it.” 
You suck in a harsh breath and withdraw to look at him. He bites his lip at the way his words painted a palette of such flushed beauty on your face, using colors this festival has never fucking seen. And his mouth ends rise in a prideful smile, not for his ability, but for your body. For the way it’s able to react to him so wonderfully. 
And he blushes when you begin to mouth the lyrics again while dipping to the seat of the amphitheater and sliding his blazer over his shoulders. 
He knows why you did that. 
And you validate his knowledge when you take his hand and lead him away from the concert, keeping close to him just to be cautious. 
You did it to camouflage the evidence of his arousal for you. 
And when you walk by the guy, you let go of his hand. Throw both middle fingers in his face. “You wish you had someone to leave with, huh?” 
The fucker puts his dirty hand on you, stopping you from walking away, and Jungkook doesn’t fucking hesitate. Like a bolt of lightning, he grabs his collar and fumes in his face. 
“What makes you fucking think you can touch my girl, huh? Juk go sip na?” he snarls, shaking him, his Busan dialect impulsively spilling out, darkening his voice and the latter question—‘Do you want to die?’ He watches a tendril of challenge line his eyes with murkiness and what happens next is too fast. 
Too fast for his liking. 
Knuckles collide with his cheek and at the rapid, unexpected and jarring contact, his lip ring cuts his gums. Jungkook grunts at the twinge that overpowers the throbbing on the side of his face, metal percolating through the aftertaste in his mouth, but he doesn’t let go of the guy’s shirt. In fact, he tightens his hold. Seethes. Is about to push him off and leave before things get even uglier, but then he feels your hands on his back and his heart stops, your voice mute, despite the fact your whole face twists in fear and is smeared with harrowing emotions that he’s never seen on you. Shrinks at the sight of your wet, bulging eyes. Of one singular tear grazing your lower lashes in a caress before plopping onto the wildflower meadow of the glitter on your cheek. 
“Get back,” he tells you, despite the swelling of his own emotions at your state of mind. But you don’t comply in time, unclench your fist and step back because far too soon, in the middle of the distraction, another collision bursts in this impenetrable darkness. 
Falling into you or falling for you even deeper, he can’t tell the difference within the numbing pain and his temper coaxes his exceedingly too easy tears to blur his vision. You don’t topple back on your hands, for Jungkook catches you in time with a strength that you somehow help him remember that he possesses. From the force of the guy’s jab, he was only pushed into you, but it doesn’t diminish the grave mistake he made. 
One he will pay for. 
Straightening you, Jungkook guides you towards the edge of the amphitheater and you step back, at last, startled. Turning around, he swings his fist into the guy’s face and he whimpers like a little bitch. 
One hit for your dignity. 
A second one for your tears. 
And the guy would’ve received a third and a fourth one had he not been held back by different pairs of arms all of a sudden. But he shakes them off. Pushes the guy back to his seat. He lands awkwardly on his tailbone with a hard thud and moans in pain. Suits him right for thinking he’s allowed to touch you, make you cry and remain unharmed. 
Jungkook shakes his head, his chest rising with heavy breaths and numbing, adrenaline-infused fury. “Sit here and keep your fucking hands to yourself, gaesaekki. Who the fuck do you think you are, making my girl cry by hitting me?” 
The music cuts out and the rapper hollers. Jungkook turns around and finds all of the attention of the audience and the headliner on him. Doesn’t want to put you on the spot like that, so he rolls his eyes in annoyance, finds your rounded ones and tips his chin further towards the exit, signaling to you to walk that way, so no one gets to look at you. You’re still standing by the edge of the amphitheater with your tear-stained cheeks and his heart aches, though once he sees that you’re covered by the shadows, he lifts a palm towards the stage and strides off, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you towards the grassy hill. 
People are fucking testing him and he’s not in the mood. Not in the slightest. 
He’d go with his original plan—take your hand and run with you to his car, but he needs to cool off. His anger is sapping all the delight he gained from your microcosm of joy and he doesn’t want to ruin the night more than he already has. Jungkook curls an arm around your neck, tugging you flush to his side as you strut together with no one around. Lifts your chin so he can inspect how you’re feeling on your face. 
Your cheeks are glimmering, damply, carmine in the yellow light, accompanied by the faint burn of the stars up above, but your eyes have lost their great spark and you’re no longer beaming. They trace over his deadened cheek and mouth and you whimper, stopping dead in your tracks and burying your face in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, a hand stroking his back—and Jungkook feels himself drifting to a state of coma. The rapper’s lines decline the harder you nuzzle your face in his mesh-clad pecs and he can’t move his own hands, can’t hug you back, his panic cascading down his sternum, which he senses your warm weight upon. A ringing noise fills his ears, but he can’t wilt. He has to put you first and make things right. 
But his body doesn’t listen. 
He wills strength into his muscles, lifting his head towards the unmerciful heavens and letting your voice sound out his prayer. You evidently need physical support and emotional reassurement and he can’t give that to you out of his own weakened will. Not when he needs it so despairingly and eminently because he’s hollowed out on the inside. Not when he can’t hear a damn thing owing to the ringing in his ears. 
He can’t ask you for help, so he lets you pray through his heart to his father’s God. 
But nothing happens.
Radio silence. 
White noise. 
A feeble, miniature whine loosens from him. He’s not sure if you heard it and he hopes you didn’t, and for that sole reason—he does the unthinkable. 
He begins to pray with his own voice. 
Because there’s nothing else to do. 
Give me strength. To be there for her and not mess this up more than I already have. Fix me for her and help me make this night better for her. 
The tiniest of lights against your face unbolts ajar in him, vines of the flowers of mitigation blooming from that sliver of open space—right into his arms that abruptly lift and wrap around your shoulders, pulling you as close as humanly possible. 
The ringing lessens. 
And then his lips move. 
He kisses your forehead, dwelling there for a moment, basking in the fact that his prayer worked, and mentally, he ejects the trepidation and agitation away and out of his system, though the fear loiters in his ribcage. The fear that the mistake he made is unfixable. And there’s no thrumming of the bass to distract it. 
What’s worse, his lower regions still ask for a release. He might not be as hard as he was, but the pressure of an ungratified arousal still palpitates in his groin. The unlit disorder of his feelings encourages the blood to pump his cock erect, slowly, and his breath quivers—as well as his body. 
The shakes are back. He knows them, intimately, from his past relationships. Feels the long-gone ghost of abandonment catching up to him—and he fears, terribly, that you’ve somehow learned its ways and you’re about to use them on him because of the way he ruined your night. Cover him from head to toe until his mind numbs and he forgets, foolishly, the direction to his home. 
To solitude. 
He lets go of you and nudges you towards his car. Lets you walk the rest of the short way. But he notices that your forehead, the place he poured his frail love upon, is smudged with blots of blood, the little stars on the arches of your brows crooked and devalued. He’s barely able to get out a cigarette out of his pack and place it in the center of his parted lips, his heart cracking and turning painfully. Though, somehow he does it—he gnites it to life, takes a big drag and hides his hands behind his back. Hides his shakes away from you. Because it’s easier to ruin yourself than it is to give. 
You don’t know about them. And in the four months he’s been dating you, he didn’t have a reason to tell you about them. Thought they were lost for all eternity, the tables turned—them forgetting about him. 
But now he realizes how naive he was. Begs his shoulder to stop trembling from the impact of his deeply-embossed issues. Wishes they were as beautiful as you when you gaze back at him with the weight of your love and he feels it, swiveling to lean against the side of his car. 
It’s a life jacket that straps him down. Abates his shakes. And he’s able to take another drag, pursing his lips in a small ‘O’ when he exhales the smoke, so it doesn’t get near you. 
Your hands are behind your back, too. They support your tailbone against the solidness of the vehicle. It reminds him that he’s glad he hurt the guy, but now he wishes that you weren’t such a delicious brat because he could’ve made you happier and pinker with the amount of orgasms he would’ve given you. Would’ve driven you home and washed you clean. Would’ve made you a late night snack to bed and held you while you replayed the songs in your head. 
Nevertheless, it’s him who needs to be held. 
Foolish, his sensitivity. Another thing you don’t know about. And he’s not too sure, at this very moment, if he’s able to let you in this closely. Let you hold him and stop, ultimately, his shakes. The fear of possibly letting that happen, only to get left behind after, paralyzes him on the spot and even though he can’t breathe, he still manages to flick the ash off his cigarette and puff on it, desperately. Needs the smoke to hold him down, mollify the raging disorder in him—the macrocosm that is too gritty and stony for your delicate feet. 
He allows a full, audible sigh to leave him and he hangs his head, but he shouldn’t have done that. 
Because he divulged to you how fucked up he is. 
You lift a hand to him. “Come here, Oppa.” 
But he can’t. He can’t get close. His legs are numb and the thick-soled boots his feet are shod in are too heavy. His fear keeps them planted that safe distance apart. And Jungkook plays it cool. Licks his lips, lifts his head and sucks on his cigarette. Feels something dripping down his jaw and he wipes his hand on the bone. His cheeks hollow out and the smoke gets in his eyes, stinging them, blurring the spots of blood on his fingers
A different type of wetness coats them now. 
“You wanna go home?” he asks, then cringes at his stupid words. The smoke makes zig zag patterns in the air as his hands shake harder. And then the breath he takes is too difficult. His chin wobbles, the tears rush in and he can’t stop it. “They’re still—” A soft sigh, a whimper. His breathing speeds up because it seems as though his lungs ask for too much air and he can’t inhale enough of it. The tears threaten to pour out and crown his fear. Ruin his life. But he keeps going as if nothing is happening. “Making hot dogs in that food stand over there. The night’s not over.”
And then he’s sobbing, sinking to his knees as his legs give out under all that weight of his issues compressing him. The cigarette burns on the concrete, as abandoned as he soon will be. And his hands feel the rough material of his jeans, needing something to bring him back to a painless reality. He’s tasting blood and the fumes of the smoke and then he sees your sneakers in front of his knees, the pink Calvin Klein shoes that he bought you last week, and he sits back, feels his head being lifted, feels himself being pushed to a point of absolute submission. 
And that’s not something he’s able to stop either. 
You sit down on his thighs, sinking your fingers behind his ears and into his hair, forcing him to look at you and he has to blink multiple times in order for his sight to clear up. Sees, while he whimpers pathetically, his bloodstained, fearful girl seeing him. The real him. The flawed, broken him. 
“Gguk, Ggukie, what’s happening? Talk to me, baby, please.” 
He only sobs. Can’t get a word out. Because you’re here and you’re going to leave him—now that you’ve seen that he’s not a half of the man you pertain him to be. That he’s weak, pathetic and emotional. That he has problems that he doesn’t like to talk about. Unresolved issues that will affect you and guide you out of his life. 
You press him to your neck, holding him to you, and you shush him, gently, rocking him from side to side. Run your wet hand up his hair on the back of his head while the other one rubs large circles on his back. The light opens wider in him—and as he listens to the lullaby of your voice, it distracts him from the fear. It stills the ringing in his ears and blesses his arms with strength that he uses, without thinking, to wrap around you. 
Something lukewarm plops onto the side of his aching cheek as he, little by little, calms down, and he realizes it’s your precious tears. The salt to his wound. 
You’ve cried too much when you should’ve been laughing so hard that you’d be sick from it. 
“What happened? Tell me.” 
Your hand caresses his bad cheek, careful around the bump that your feather-light touch traces, and it’s how he finds out it’s even there. He finds out his bleeding is from his mouth because you wipe at it and clean your fingers on your dress. And then you’re back to stroking his hair, your long fingernails scratching, tenderly, his scalp, spreading alleviation down his body. 
You’re patient and gentle, tolerant and kind, despite the fact you deserve an explanation and he’s unable to give it to you. 
It’s what makes his rationality snap back to normalcy and he tugs your dress down, withdrawing from you and helping you stand to your feet. He’s here to make your night better, not unleash his problems at you. He takes your purse dangling from your hand, replacing it with his palm, and hauls you towards his car. 
But you stay put and he bounces back to you as if he were on a leash. 
And maybe he is—because you stayed at the horrendous scene of his worst. Bound to you in a way that he’s too drowsy to comprehend. Even his fear is tired, scurrying away to some shadowed corner of his soul, instead of attacking him and remaking the scene. 
“Give me my purse back and let me buy you that hot dog,” you say, with a hint of a remarkable harshness that makes him submit to you on a higher level. Something positive that he can’t pinpoint breezes through his clavicles and he wipes his knuckles across his eyes, shyness encasing him like steel—like a shield, giving him the hope that maybe, just maybe, he can overcome this with you. 
You didn’t leave. You didn’t disappear. You didn’t wrinkle your nose. 
You held him. Cleaned the blood off his mouth. Put him, somehow, back together like a puzzle piece. Knew how to do it without needing to look at the full picture. 
He hands you the chain strap of your purse—and it’s more of a symbol of his submission to you. Of the acquiescence and the meekness that you seeped into his pores by your touch. And, oddly, he feels whole. 
His walls are broken down, but he feels whole. Confident, soft, and manly. 
Because he has you and you’re here to take care of him. 
You’re quick on your feet as you yank him by the two of his fingers. He follows behind you, but all he can look at is your pendulous, brown, leather purse, suspended from your small hand, and how that shift of the dynamic in yours and his relationship occurred by that exchange. How it’s felicitous, pretty and sturdy. How he can come back to it and remember it—if he ever wavers. Remember that it’s the cure to his shakes. 
Letting himself be taken care of by you. 
The festival has ended and the ladies at the food stand are packing up to leave. It overwhelms him how much time his issues have stolen, but when he watches you go from nice to bratty in a millisecond, convincing them to make that last hot dog from him because he feels faint and needs some greasy food in order to get home and they comply, his love for you rises sky-high. Your own expression of love for him tidies up the debris from his broken walls and he’s so warm all over that he feels as though he’ll explode. 
You pay for the hot dog and leave a huge tip, thanking them with a smile that makes his heart quiver in a way that is pleasant, good and merciful. You hand it to him and it’s another exchange that wets his eyes, that makes him dip to your mouth and give you a chaste kiss that you more than deserve. You coo, deeply, into the kiss, and it’s a sound that he’s never heard from you. A dominant, prideful sound that stirs the butterflies in his stomach that carry your name on their wings to beat so ferociously that he can’t breathe. 
In a different way now. Pleasant, good and merciful. 
You walk away from the stand and sit with him on the sidewalk. Jungkook lets you have the first bite, sliding your leg over his as he holds the hot dog to your mouth. People are exiting the amphitheater in hefty crowds, but he doesn’t care. Can’t peel his eyes off of you as you open your mouth as wide as you can and take a big bite, whining and fanning your mouth due to how boiling hot it is. He can see the half chewed up sausage on your tongue and if he didn’t love you, he’d look away now, but he can’t because he does love you and your secret, indecent ways enthrall him enough that he can’t help but to kiss you again. Kiss the ketchup and mustard off of your upper lip. Clean you up like you cleaned up his debris. Blow on the sausage in your mouth a little to make you laugh and you do more than that. You chortle so hard that you nearly choke on it and he laughs, too, strangely. 
Thinks the hot dog is the best one he has had in a long time solely because you had that first bite. 
It fuels him with energy, yet he feels lightweight. Feels as though everything’s going to be okay, despite the fact those issues in him are a persisting threat and they can be triggered anytime. But something tells him you can handle it. 
You weren’t afraid to throw your middle fingers in a guy’s face because he had a problem with your public display of affection. Weren’t afraid of Jungkook’s ugliness. Weren’t afraid to fight the ladies so you could fill up his stomach with his favorite food. 
You can handle it. 
It’s all he thinks about as he drives you to his apartment with his hand on your thigh. 
And it’s all he thinks about when he kneels before you while he takes off your sneakers and lingers there, scattering kisses just below the hem of your dress. And you know where this is going because you pull him back by his hair and as he looks up at you like this, a peasant to a queen, his heart hammers so intensively that all he wants to do is cry while he makes love to you. 
He came across his salvation—in the worst of it all. 
“Let me clean you up,” you hush out, and Jungkook doesn’t understand because you already have. Internally. And outwardly all the same. He can’t postpone this any longer. He has to give back to you, give you his gratitude on a silver platter. He needs to do it because if he doesn’t, he’ll crumble. 
“No,” he rasps in a whisper, closing his mouth over the inner of your thigh, placing a singular kiss there before he returns his gaze back to you. “Let me, please.” 
Maybe you can see his desperation in the glossiness of his eyes and it awakens your pity for him, for in a blink you nod, and for the second time today—he doesn’t hesitate to do the next thing. He fists the fabric of your dress and yanks it up over your tummy, nuzzling his nose into your clothed mound. Pink, like your sneakers. 
He inhales you. Inhales the beginning of your arousal—and the beginning of a brand new scene that will color his life in a soft manner. 
Dragging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he tosses them on top of your shoes. Yearns for your legs to part your royalty for him and in order for that to happen, he carries you, bridal-style, over to the white of his bedding. Pretends it’s clouds that he’s laying you down upon because he’s about to make sure he’ll bring heaven down to you. 
The heaven that helped him give back to you earlier in his worst. 
He hooks his fingers under your socks and slides them off, one by one. Makes you sit up to rid you of your dress. Ruins your ponytail in the process, but he quickly fixes it by lugging your hair tie down your length, rubbing his blood away on your forehead with his saliva-coated thumb once he places you back down. 
And it’s not an expression of his dominance, the way he disburdened you from the daytime. That has long ceased to exist in him since that exchange. 
It’s an expression of his servitude to you. 
Of his lessening and your heightening. 
And it’s pleasant, good and merciful. It doesn’t feel as though he’s giving all of himself. On the contrary, it feels as though he has just discovered his true self. 
He won’t forget the address of his home because he’s not staying over anywhere. 
He is at home. 
And your folds revealing your royalty as he spreads your legs is the feeling of homeliness. His mouth on your warm, swollen clit is the epitome of all domesticity and the only thing he can fear at this very moment is his future homesickness if he rips his mouth off your cunt. 
And you getting wet so easily just from being taken care of like a queen confirms and validates all that he’s feeling. 
And he lets you know. 
Peasants are savages and he eats your pussy like it. Sucks on your clit with a verve that surprises him and makes his cock tight uncomfortably in his pants, especially when you make those deep, guttural noises of yours. You’re not the soft girl he knew that omitted swear words in her favorite filthy songs. You’re a vulgar woman, rolling her hips into his mouth as he lets you use his tongue. 
And he stops—just to beg for those words. 
“Let me hear you swear for me, please.” 
You whimper, flopping into the mattress, only to raise your torso using your elbows. You grip the hair on the back of his neck and hump his mouth, but then you suck in a breath and draw back, sobered up all of a sudden. 
“Does your lip hurt?” you ask, rounding your brows in pity and Jungkook’s heart quickens at the portrayal of your care towards him. His senses flick to that faint throbbing on the side of his pierced lip and he perceives that he forgot about his physical pain. His cheek throbs as well, but it’s all bearable. 
You help him remember. 
“It doesn’t hurt, baby.” 
But the hand that gripped his hair slides over to his lip, caressing it with a thumb. “But it’s swollen. I don’t want to hurt you.” 
He also remembers that he was bleeding from the same place and he checks your folds if he spattered them. With the same digit, he runs it over them, finding no taints of it. Sends a quick, internal thank you to God. 
You’re pure—he doesn’t want to mar you. 
“You’re not hurting me. You’re saving me,” he utters without a breath, the words more raw than anything he’s ever said to you, alongside his first, secretly sensitive I love you. And while he doesn’t let his lungs lift, you inhale all of the air for him, wafting it over him as you pout ever so slightly. And then you caress him—the good side of his face and he does something he’s never expected to do. 
He invites you in. 
Rests his head on the apex of your thigh while you continue to brush your hand in circles. Over his cheekbone, his temple, long strands of hair and ear. An ouroboros of love so unsullied and intact that the world’s upcoming destruction could never afflict it, never even come near it. Jungkook pushes your leg back and darts out his tongue. Mirrors your circles over your clit and the gentleness he uses to do it with pull such alluring moans from the bottom of your throat that he’s nearly at the peak of his own orgasm. 
And it just makes him hungrier. 
He turns you over to your side and closes that leg of yours over his head. Flattens his tongue over your clit and eats it like his life depends on it, one hand holding yours while the other slips to your heat, rubbing the hole until you go mad. And he’s not holding your hand to keep you bound. He’s holding your hand to keep his sanity and not come in his pants like a boy. 
You move your hips so his fingers enter you and you scream out at the sudden fullness. Jungkook drips in sweat, your walls slowly stretching around him sending tingles down his spine, and he’s moaning when you fuck yourself on his digits. 
It doesn’t take long for you to come. 
It is the final piece to your own puzzle and your orgasm thunders through you, the swear words tumbling out of your mouth like refreshing raindrops. You interweave them into his name, adorning it, making it prettier, and Jungkook is so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he can do is suck on your clit until you convulse so hard that you can’t take it anymore.
You may have lost your spark earlier, but now that you’ve come so magnificently, you’ve become it. The star of light isn’t something that gets attached to your eyes whenever you’re happy anymore. 
You’re the queen of all firelights and constellations. 
He lets you lie on your side as he hauls himself up to face you. He touches your skin besprinkled with the beads of perspiration, kneading the fleshy parts and ending up at your neck. Your eyes are closed when he reposes his head on his pillow besides yours and he detects his pleasure creating a new kind of joy within him, one that etches a lopsided smile on his face. 
You said the words for him while your orgasm coursed through your body. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Thank you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you with a certain roughness that makes you whine and withdraw. You give him a playful dirty look, fragrant with your love, and Jungkook’s smile deepens. 
“Gentle,” you reprimand, fluttering your eyes back shut. “Don’t be a masochist.” 
He laughs through his nose, his heart constricting, and he kisses you with the gentleness you spoke of just to show you he can do it. 
You hum in appreciation and Jungkook thinks this must be the best day of his life, despite all. 
“There we go,” you praise, sleepily. “Gentle, so your boo-boo doesn’t hurt.” 
He caresses your face in circles in your fashion, watches you visibly relax and your eyes close all the way, your eyelashes brushing against him. His sleep-kissed queen. 
“You wanna sleep?” he asks, fondling the shell of your ear. He doesn’t mind if you’re too tired to take him; he’s willing to study the way your mouth parts and lets out long, restful breaths as you drift off to dreamland. 
He thinks it would be an honor. 
Everything had changed. The way he sees you, the way he loves you, the way he senses yours and his connection. The pupils of his eyes have been purified and he’s acknowledging himself with the ins and outs of his own relationship. 
Everything is new. 
You shake your head, humming out a sound of disagreement. “No, give me a second. You made me come really hard.” 
He nods, even though you can’t see him, and he sifts his fingers through your hair. Trails his kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, dwelling there as you recuperate from your intense orgasm.
And then you’re swinging your leg over and straddling him. Your lids are so heavy from your little eye-shut that he silently coos at you, but your tiredness doesn’t stop you from mouthing kisses down his mesh-clad chest. From unbuckling his belt and freeing him from his pants. The mesh shirt is the only thing you keep on him. You bunch up its hem in your fist, stabilize his cock with your other and you swallow him. 
Not all the way, though. 
You rid him of his sanity because you pop your mouth, over and over, on the tip of his manhood. He feels the sound deep in his groin, right beneath your hand, and his chest can’t help but to shudder with each suction, his face scrunching. He unabashedly whimpers for you and you like his noises so much that you give him what he never asked you for. 
You do take him all the way. 
And your throat is your scent floating through the air of yours and his home. 
Heady, oriental and feminine. 
You slobber all over him, running your tongue sideways upon the veins along his length and Jungkook slinks in and out of his conscience. The pleasure you’re blessing him with brings him to a rose garden when you gag around him. The pink petals tickle his stomach, encouraging his shudders, and all he sees is you in the middle of that garden. A mighty statue of its queen—with a mouthful of cock. 
And then he has to physically pull you away from him because if he felt the tightness of your throat one more time, he’d be spurting ropes of cum down your esophagus. 
You’re feral, staring him down with a maddened smile, returning to your original position on his hips. And as delighted as he is to have you be in charge, he remembers something. 
He hasn’t put a condom on. 
“Wait.” 
Jungkook holds your waist as he rummages in his bedside table and once he finds the package he was looking for and rattles it, he finds it empty. Cold sweat trickles down the back of his neck, but he remembers something else as well. 
“Did you not put it in your purse?” he asks, the scene where he hands you the last square of the rubber for you to keep in your purse in case you get in the mood during the festival shooting out before his eyes. 
You nod. “Yeah, I think so. Can you go get it?” 
He sits up with you and kisses you, gently, prolonging the kiss until you whine and he thinks twice before provoking you. He can’t help it—you just keep saving him. 
Walking through your corridor, he sees your pink sneakers first, embellished with your panties of the same color. A smile tugs at the aching corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t mind. Thinks it heightens the experience. Bending to pick up your brown purse that he set beside your shoes, the time seems to slow down as he’s reminded of the exchange out there in the countryside. The shift of dynamics that liberated him. Jungkook grows emotional, his feelings liquifying and prickling his eyes. 
And it’s automatic and absolutely instinctual—the way he dips his mouth and kisses the leather material. 
Gently. 
Opening it, he fishes out the white square and hangs your purse on the hook among his jackets. Gives it a long, meaningful look before he returns to you. 
And you’re the one who wants to put it on him. You’re so diligent, tugging the peak of the rubber multiple times so you’re unequivocally certain that you did it right. And when you tug him, he whimpers so inferiorly that you emulate his hunger. 
You depict it so eloquently when you fight through your residual overstimulation and sink down on him, little by little. And the more inches your walls squeeze around, the more his new role settles within him. 
Peasant with his queen. 
You ride him like it. 
You bounce on him with such hard thuds that it provokes the pressure in his groin. His balls tighten so rapidly and the cinematic view of your breasts slapping against each other doesn’t really help slow down the incoming explosion of his orgasm. A glistening ring forms around his cock from your slick—and Jungkook genuinely considers, right here, right now, buying you a promise ring that will be an eternal reminder of this sublime salvation. 
And you’re as aware of the shift as he is because once you reposition your weight onto your feet, you pin his hands back and use them as leverage. Intertwine your fingers with his. His vision gets filled with spots of white. You clamp down on him with each stroke and even though he can’t move, he feels unshackled. There’s no ending to his moans. He’s so close, the pressure deepens in his groin, and he needs one more thing. 
One more thing and he’s done. 
“Kiss me,” he rasps, and you slow down, crying out, your orgasm catching up to you just the same, but he needs your attention, so he begs. “Please, baby. Kiss me.” 
Lowering yourself onto your knees, you lean forward. “Fuck, I love it when you beg. I’d give you anything you ever wanted.” 
His stomach spasms. Your nipples sail over his chest and you shudder, the mesh fabric stimulating you, and then you’re swirling your tongue around the arc of his open mouth. 
Teasing him, like the vulgar, bratty woman you are. 
Extra careful around the lip ring and his swollen flesh, healing it in a way. 
Jungkook whines your name. “Please.” 
You kiss him just once, but he needs more. Lifts his head off the pillow, chasing your mouth. You begin to swirl your hips in circles on the tip of his cock, just like your tongue, and the intense pleasure he gets from it forces him to bang his head back. 
You go for his neck. His collarbone. His nipple. 
And Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. 
His orgasm bursts in his groin and all the roses in the garden swell with freshness. He imagines he’s filling you up, instead of the condom and it elevates the momentous shocks of the explosion descending down all of his nerve endings. He hiccups and that’s it for you. You let go of his hands to massage your clit and you follow him out into that garden, his name and curse words trickling out of your mouth that lowers to his in a final, years-long kiss. 
His last rope oozes out of him at the feeling of your soft, wary tongue and he wants to weep due to the density of your care. More shrubs of roses bloom around your statue in that garden—and once again, he can’t peel his eyes off of you. 
Can’t stop brushing your hair back to see more of you. More of your rose-flushed complexion. More of the spark of your being that irradiates you from within. More of your care and love. 
And you give it to him. 
You wash out the dried blood on his face in the shower. Brush his teeth with extra care, which makes it more than difficult for him to stifle his tears. He lets you be a witness to his sensitivity and you welcome it, cradle it, hold him while the toothpaste foam numbs his achy lip. And it scares his fear away, most peculiarly. 
You hold him in bed, too, amidst the crisp, flower-scented linen of his fresh bed sheets, and you apologize. 
“I’m sorry for what happened tonight. If I hadn’t said a thing, you wouldn’t have ended up bruised and swollen,” you croak out, shifting the cold compress lower on his face, and you break into tears that trigger his. He had wished you weren’t a brat, but for a far different reason, and he tells you. 
“It’s an honor to get punched in the face for you.” He smiles through his tears and you sigh, removing the cold compress. “But I did wish things ended differently. I wanted to fuck you in my car. Keep the window open so you would hear your favorite rapper. But if things went according to my plan, you wouldn’t have healed me.” 
You sniffle, your eyes rounding at the onrush of your tender emotions, and Jungkook watches the waterfall of your tears. His own flows and mingles with yours, joining in unity. 
“What happened to you when we left?” you ask and Jungkook knows he wouldn’t avoid this question for long. Deems you deserve to know because of all what you’ve done for him. And he readies himself, pausing before he bares himself, fully, to you. 
“I got into panic mode because I blamed myself for ruining your night and…” he trails off, aware of the fact he needs to be more specific, and he takes a deep breath, wiping his tears with one hand before slapping it back on the duvet. “I have a constant fear that the people I care for will eventually leave me,” he explains and a wisp of pride envelops his bones for managing to get those words out for the first time in his life. You snuggle closer to his side, placing your head on his shoulder, and he gazes down at you. His fingers find your ear on their own and it comforts him enough, to touch you like that, that he’s able to continue. “I got left behind a lot of times in my past, which is why I swore off love. It just hurt too much and I stopped having the capacity for it. And when we left the concert, I thought you’d leave me, too, after what I’d done.” 
You press the cold compress back to his cheek. “I could never leave you, you’re mine,” you whisper, and another stream of tears soaks through the dish towel wrapped around frozen vegetables. Jungkook doesn’t take your words for granted. He puts great meaning to them and hides them, safely, in his sternum. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t ruin my night. It was all me and for that I’m sorry.” 
He squeezes your arm. “Don’t be sorry,” he says and means it. Lifts his head and plants a cold kiss to your lips. 
Gentle. 
“I love you, Ggukie. It’s me who should be fighting for you now.” 
Jungkook laughs through his nose. “No, I’ll keep protecting my queen.” One more kiss, gentler. “I love you,” he adds and means it. 
And he falls asleep like this. With you clinging to the side of his body while keeping the cold compress intact and unmoving with your forehead. One that he removes in the middle of the night and warms up the iciness of your skin by smothering it with his body heat. 
Returns to the rose garden and gapes at the statue of you, hand in hand with you—as a changed person, a sensitive, flawed and submissive person that is loved and accepted. 
Finds it hard to believe even in his dream. 
And you’re there when he wakes up. 
Drooling, indecent and vulgar as you are. And he wouldn’t want anyone else.
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𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.
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allurilove · 6 months ago
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Yandere Stalker x you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.
*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.
What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?
You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.
I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.
Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?
June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.
Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.
And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.
I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.
I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?
My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.
Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.
What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.
I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.
I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.
I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.
I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.
It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...
"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.
My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"
I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.
"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.
You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.
Why is this oddly arousing?
With one final shove I landed onto my face.
There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.
No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.
Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.
Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.
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notsoverymerry · 2 months ago
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Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)
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<jeong yunho x fem!reader>
summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.
genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k
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You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 
You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.
At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 
At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 
Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.
He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.
''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 
''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 
There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 
Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 
There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 
You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 
Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 
''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 
''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''
''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.
''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 
''Are you guys pulling my leg?''
''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 
You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?
''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''
A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 
It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 
You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 
''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''
''Hello, honey.''
The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 
''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''
It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 
''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''
The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 
''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''
It was as though they were doing it on purpose.
''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''
Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…
''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''
A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 
''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''
Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 
''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''
You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.
''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''
''I can hear that!''
That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.
''A reputable scam artist?''
That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?
''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''
A strangled sound tore from your chest.
''See? That's a laugh.''
There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.
You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 
Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.
His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.
''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''
He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 
''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''
He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 
''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 
Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.
You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 
''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''
There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.
''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''
''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 
With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 
Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 
He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 
''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.
''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 
He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 
''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''
He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 
Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 
''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 
You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.
You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 
''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''
He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 
You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 
When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 
''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 
His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.
You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 
You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 
''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 
You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.
''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''
''I love you too.''
He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.
''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 
You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.
''We're decent.'' 
''When did you come back?!''
''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''
Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.
''I am traumatized, by the way.''
''What's that supposed to mean?''
''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''
You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.
''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 
Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''
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princesssmars · 5 months ago
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teasing abby not on purpose but kind of on purpose… nsfw.
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you knew as soon as your sink started acting weird you were gonna be screwed. it was only a matter of time until the stupid thing broke, and then you’d have to call your annoying ass landlord to call an even more annoying maintenance company to come fix it.
which you knew they never would. for some reason they loved to schedule people to come fix things in the middle of the day when you had to go to work, then blaming you for being five minutes late like you didn’t cause three traffic accidents just to get over there.
but now, as your broken sink is spouting water like a fire hydrant and you’re soaked from head to toe, you find yourself with only two choices. and you choose the hotter one.
you hadn't been seeing abby for long, only officially dating for around a few weeks at this point. but she was sweet, strong, and exceptionally good with her hands. she'd offered to help build a mounted shelf you were looking at on amazon last week, so you figured she had to have at least some experience with fixing things, right?
you only start to realize the mental jump you took when she's laughing at you over the phone, telling you she doesn't have much plumbing experience but she'll do what she can. really, its no problem, she's right down the street.
until you heard a knock at your door less than four minutes later while you were trying to take every towel you had to put on the floor, hoping to avoid an altercation with your neighbor below you for flooding her and her four secret cats.
so that's the only reason you open the door and give abby a view of you with a soaked-through tank top and no bra. truly, the only reason.
it's not like anyone can blame you when you get her reaction. she's notoriously not subtle at anything, and its intensity is dialed up to a twenty-five as she stared at the wet fabric barely hiding your nipples, only brought out of it when you snap your fingers and loudly clear your throat to bring her attention to how shes supposed to be helping you with your problem.
she was really selling herself short, setting herself in front of the sink and fixing whatever the problem was in less than ten minutes. it’s funny how her eyes keep darting to you when she reaches for some tools, wondering why on earth you hadn’t changed yet because there was no way you were going to suffer in a tiny cold shirt just to rile her up, right?
wrong. we’re you discreetly shivering when she would turn away and start doing her thing again? yes. was it worth it just to see the way her arms flexed as she tightened and pulled and how the muscles in her back showed through her ridiculously tight top…
once she finishes she helps you with cleaning up the mess, mopping up any excess water and removing any towels that have been soaked through, piling them in your washer and starting the cycle. when she comes back to your room she feels like her heart is going to leap out of her chest because you’re still wearing the damn shirt.
“seriously?” she raises her brow, crossing her arms and fighting off the urge to smirk when she notices how your eyes track them.
“what? i like this shirt, has a nice neckline.”
you’re smiling, and then she’s smiling, and then she’s crossing the room in a second and pushing you down on the bed-
but it’s obvious that she agreed with you - it was a cute shirt. which is why she only pushes the neckline down to suck and bite at your chest until you’re nearly crying and begging for her instead of taking the whole thing off.
“what’s the matter? you were teasing me so much, can’t i return the favor?” her words are mumbled as she bites into the side of your breast, laugh reverberating in her chest at your gasp and the jerk of your leg held under her hand.
but luckily for you abby was sweet and way too pent up, so it wasn’t long before she was shoving her hand into your pants and stuffing her fingers inside you, face still planted in your boobs as she brought you to a strong orgasm. and then another. and then another.
yeah. you were glad you didn’t call your landlord.
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horny work daydreams are not a game
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c0llisiion · 2 months ago
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DAY 12 — SONG MINGI
★ npr, f!reader, somno (CONSENSUAL!), unprotected sex — lmk if i missed any!!; W/C: 731
Hello! This is part of my kinktober list! Day12 is officially out <3
This is strictly fiction. Any scenario or situation should not be taken seriously. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable.
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He woke up feeling hot and sweaty in the middle of the night. The back of his shirt, covered in his sweat. He stared at himself in the mirror, the cold water dripping down his face. He had jolted out of bed after having a long, spicy dream. It of course involved him dicking you down and making the bed break, but this was extra heated for some reason. His cock poked through the material of his sweats, tall and hard and aching to be touched. Mingi couldn’t help but sigh at the sight. He didn’t want to wake you up. You had a really long day, and he just didn’t want to disturb you. He grumbled and rubbed his hands over his face, deciding to just rub one out quickly before heading back to bed. He dropped his sweats and glided his hands over his lengthy cock before spitting on it. His hands started working swiftly—just a quick one, and he could go to sleep. But he failed. He couldn’t get himself to cum. He tried thinking about lewd things he would do to you, but nothing beats the real feeling. He tightened his grip on the sink behind him and pumped faster to no avail.
He walked out of the bathroom defeated and slumped; the raging boner now stood prominent. He made it worse at that point. He looked up and saw you sleeping peacefully on your side. His eyes fell on your tits first; the mounds getting squished together by your arms was a sight to behold. He gulped and couldn’t take it any longer.
“Baby.. you awake?” He was straddling you, thighs on either side of your body. You mumbled in your sleep “baby… just gotta ask one thing… please wake up…” he whispered in your ears. “Mmm… what?” You ask, groggy and tired. Mingi felt guilty, but he pushed through those feelings and said what he wanted to say. “Can i quickly use you baby? I just… i just have to rn… please…?” He asks politely. His voice was soft and guilt-ridden. You couldn’t register what he said properly since you were still asleep, but either way you nodded and muttered a small ‘hm, whatever.’ Before going back to sleep. Mingi beamed in real time, and the comforter that brought you warmth was quickly pushed away, revealing your body, clad in a tiny black underwear and a tank top. He didn’t want to wake you up much, so he just pushed your thigh higher, exposing your tight little cunny. He rubbed his fingers over your clothed core and watched your reaction. You let out muffled groans, his fingers pressing into your pussy, making you wetter, unconsciously. Your eyebrows furrowed and relaxed as he continued rubbing you through your underwear. Mingi stopped when he thought it was enough for him to easily slip in. He shifted a bit so he could roll your panties till your mid-knees. He spooned up behind you and kissed the nape of your neck, “gonna be gentle with you dw…” he whispered in your ear, making you stir a bit. He pulled his cock out and slowly rubbed the tip on your pussy lips. A soft ‘fuck…’ escaped his lips as his tip collected your juices. You mewl softly as you feel him poke at your entrance. Mingi slowly inched forward, the mushroom tip of his cock disappearing within your walls. He shuddered and let out a satisfied sigh as he fully entered you. You pressed your ass harder against his pelvis as your pussy adjusted to his size. Your little cunt clenching and unclenching around his lengthy girth. Mingi’s cock hit all the good spots. The slight curve upwards gave a different sensation every time he went in and out of your pussy. Length sat snug in you before he started gently rolling his hips, his hand holding the back of your thighs to give him more liberty. “Fuck you feel so good…” he whispered in your ear. Soft moans hitting your eardrums. You were starting to get hot and sweaty. Mingis slow rhythmic thrusts were making you wetter every second. Mingi caught onto it quickly and started going faster. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. 
He kissed the back of your ear and grunted. “Gonna give it to ya good, okay? Just stay still and let me use you…” 
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A/N: hi everyone!! Sorry for delaying day12 :( i was really sad yesterday and i had no motivation to post anything :(( i also caught a bad cold and a rlly bad migraine so💔💔💔 anyways day12 is officially out! Day13 will be posted later today so stay tuned <3
Tags~ @cassies-cookies @minghaosimp @unlikelysublimekryptonite @mamnaimiefrankie @marcoswhore @theyadorevalerie @applejackthebest515 @un-knew @salemluvsmusic @ka0ila @atztrsr @kpopsmutty69 @jisunglyricist @targaryenluvs @yuminhyunn @chansramennn @anylady-fics
If you want to be part of the taglist, please lmk!! ^^
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bloodibambiidoll · 2 months ago
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⟡˖ ࣪ A Dripping Inconvenience ⟡˖
✬ Kinktober Day 3 ⟢ Eric Draven ⟢ Squirting/Overstim ✬
Warnings: Brother’s bestfriend troupe, size difference, fingering, pussy eating, pet names, choking, overstimulation, squirting, cock piercings, hickies, possessiveness, AU(no Shelly/crow), biting, a tiny bit of blood, reader has nipple piercings 18+MDNI
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You spent most of the day cleaning your brother’s dirty ass apartment while he was out of town so you had absolutely no reservations about helping yourself to a fat plate of nachos from his kitchen and a blunt, or two, from his stash. You were one blunt, half a plate of nachos, and two episodes into your show when abrupt banging on the door ripped you from your chill evening. You practically jump out of your skin at the amount of force behind the knocks, the weed in your system making you slightly paranoid until you hear the voice behind the door.
“Chance, come on, man!! I really need your fucking help!” You’d recognize your brother’s best friend’s voice anywhere. Considering you were just a little bit obsessed with him. And he sounds extremely stressed. Another round of knocks pulls you from your thoughts and has you shooting to your feet so you can walk the short distance between the couch and the door. You hastily unlock and open it to reveal a disheveled looking Eric Draven. His black mullet is even messier than usual and dripping wet from the storm raging outside. Which makes the fact that all he’s wearing is a distressed black tee and even more distressed black jeans borderline insane as the cloth covering his body drips onto the carpet in the hallway. He’s panting heavily and the look in his eyes is the one of someone running from something. Fear and urgency. “Oh, fuck. What’re you doing here? Where’s your brother?”
You’re not taken back by his brash tone, Eric had always been short and avoidant with you. You’re his best friend’s annoying little, kid sister that used to beg to play with them and that’s all you’ll ever be to him. Fucking unfortunately. But the way he towers over you makes you suddenly acutely aware of the fact that all you’re wearing is a tiny, white, Hello Kitty tank top, even tinier pink panties that hardly cover your hips or ass, and your black platform Uggs with white ruffle socks. You took a shower after you finished cleaning and despite the amount of time you spent vacuuming, your brother's floors were perpetually disgusting so you refused to walk around in his house without some kind of shoes.
“He’s out of town, I’m house sitting and watching the dogs.” You scoff and roll your eyes before tipping your head over your shoulder to gesture inside toward your brother’s two dogs standing guard behind you. If they hadn’t known Eric their whole lives they’d probably be barking their heads off right now. “What are you doing here? Are you good?”
“Not fucking really, no.” Eric sighs and throws his head back while running his tattooed hands down his face. He drops them to his side before locking eyes with you and you have to physically stop yourself from clenching your thighs from the way he is glowering down at you. When you were kids he was shorter than most of the other boys and now his body fills the entire length of the doorway he’s standing in. He was just so big. “I just really needed to talk to your brother, alright? And it’s just really inconvenient that you’re here right now.”
“Seriously? What is your fucking problem with me, Eric? We aren’t little kids anymore. It’s just immature at this point.” You stomp your foot for emphasis and glare up at him with your lips set into an ironic pout considering you just called him immature.
“My problem?” Eric crowds your space even further and you can nearly feel the dampness of his clothes against your body from his proximity. He leans down until his face is mere inches from yours, his green eyes ablaze as he breathes out deep through his nostrils. “Is that I’m in some deep shit. I have some fucked people after me. You being here, near me, puts you in harm's way and that isn’t going to work for me.”
“That isn’t going to work for you? You’re joking, right? You don’t give a fuck about me.” You laugh dryly and shake your head at the irony of this entire situation.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Eric closes the remaining distance between you, pressing his wet body against your barely covered skin. “I give too many fucks about you and now you’re here, looking up at me in that annoyed way you always do.” He chuckles and one of his large hands reaches up to cup the side of your face. “You think it hides how badly you want me, but it doesn’t.”
“W- What?” You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours. He’s been close to you before, but never like this. “I don’t -“
“Shh. Let’s not waste time denying it. The fact that you want me is as clear as the sky being blue.” Eric’s thumb reaches out to trace along your bottom limp and you have to hold in a whimper. “It's only ever made it harder for me to be a good friend to your brother and stay away from you. I think my final restraint might be slipping. Fucking look at you.”
“You should… come in?” Your voice comes out a squeaky whisper and it makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. A slow smile spreads across Eric’s face, he places his hands on your hips and starts to back step you into the apartment before kicking the door shut behind him. The minute it’s shut his lips are on yours in a kiss that makes your entire body ignite with fire. His grip on your hips tightens as he pulls your much smaller frame taunt against his own. His tongue explores your mouth and you moan into him while you start to subconsciously grind down on his thigh. Eric kisses you for what feels like an eternity before grabbing onto your hair at the nape of your neck and using it to pull your head back.
“I won’t be gentle. I’m really stressed the fuck out right now and I don’t have it in me to take my time with you.” Eric’s free hand grips onto your ass so tight his finger nails dig into your flesh as he continues to yank your hair. The stinging pains make you moan and grind down on him harder. “Oh? Is that how you like it, brat?” The condescending nickname he called you growing up held an entirely different meaning as it fell from his lips now. It makes your pussy clench around nothing as the wetness in your underwear grows. “Answer me.”
“Yes, fuck. I like it rough.” At that Eric circles an arm around your waist and throws you over his shoulder. He carries you over to the couch and tosses you down on it onto your back. He stands over you with an almost carnivorous look in his eyes as he takes you in. You’re so fucking perfect that he can’t stand it. Your brother told him around the time you all hit puberty to stay the absolute fuck away from you but looking down at you in your tiny pink thong and tight little hello kitty tank top has him practically forgetting who your brother even is. Especially when you throw one of your legs over the back of the couch, revealing the large wet spot between them. “Take your stress out on me, I can take it.”
“Oh, I don’t think you know what you’re asking for princess, but your wish is my command.” Eric licks his lips before leaning down between your legs to kiss you like a man starved. His mouth tastes like cigarettes and rain and something almost sweet that must be naturally Eric. It’s everything you ever dreamed of as his big hands travel all over your body. He yanks your hair, grips onto your throat, runs his hands down your chest and grabs your tits and squeezes your nipples while he ruts his hard Jean covered cock against you. He bites down on your lip so hard you feel when the skin breaks and you can taste the crimson drip into both your mouths. Eric licks across your lips and down your chin to your pulse point where he sucks over and over again until your neck is covered in pretty purple and red bruises that will soon turn green and blue.
“You’re fucking, mine. Your blood is mine, your body is mine.” Eric kisses down your chest and pushes your shirt up to reveal your pretty pierced tits that make him groan at the sight. He tells you how pretty they are as he licks and sucks across them, marking them up just like your neck. He continues down your body until he gets to the band of your panties and he licks across it before kissing down your mound and running the flat of his tongue along your lace covered slit. “This pussy is fucking mine. Say it.”
“Fuck, my pussy is yours, Eric. I’ve always been yours.” He practically growls at that before pushing your panties to the side and smacking his hand down on your sopping cunt. “Shit!”
“Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” He lands a second smack on your clit before pressing the heel of his palm down on it and toying at your entrance with two of his thick fingers. “You look so tight though, we’re going to have to stretch you out, if you’re going to be able to take me.”
“I think I can take it - oh fuck!” Eric plunges his fingers knuckle deep inside you and your wet walls suck him in. Your back arches off the couch but his knee comes up to pin your thigh so you can’t move. His free hand reaches for his belt and undoes his pants enough to pull his cock free, the sight of it makes your jaw drop. It’s fucking huge. Thick, long and slightly curved, the head is perfect and dripping with precum, and best of all? The entire fucking length of his shaft is pierced. Maybe you do need him to stretch you out after all.
“Yeah, not so cocky now, huh?” Eric chuckles as he curls his fingers inside you and continues to grind his palm against your aching clit. He caresses your g-spot and rubs the tips of fingers along your walls before thrusting them in and out of you brutally quick. Your pussy is so wet it squelches and your juices start to drip down your thighs. Eric leans down and takes your clit in his mouth and it has your eyes rolling back. Your entire body stiffens as pleasure overtakes you. He keeps sucking your clit hard until your orgasm finally wavers but he doesn’t stop. The flat of his tongue licks your bud firmly as he twists his wrist and scissors his fingers inside you causing you to come again immediately.
He finally pulls his mouth off of you and you feel like you can breathe for a moment. That is until you look down at him. His hair is a disaster from you yanking on it and the entire bottom half of his face is covered in your creamy juices. Eric leans in to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself. “You’re such a good girl for me. Give me another one.” He doesn’t pull his fingers from you and fuck you like you’d hoped he would but he resumes thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace and your pussy juices drip down his wrist and onto the couch.
“Oh my fucking god! I don’t think I can - fuck I just - I need a minute-“ Your sentence is cut short when Eric’s hand flies out to grip onto your throat.
“Oh, baby, no. You’re going to come for me as many times as I say and then I’ll finally give you my cock and you’ll come on that too.” Eric chuckles as squeezes your throat as he fucks you with his long fingers. His thumb reaches out to caress your clit and euphoria washes over you again. “Yeah, that’s it, you’re so good for me, Angel.”
“I - it’s so good, too good, I don’t think I can come again - oh fuck!” Eric’s grip leaves your throat and grips under your ass to tilt your hips up off the couch making his fingers hit deeper inside you.
“Shhh, just come for me.” He spreads them and twists his wrist before going back to the quick drive of his digits inside you. He spits on your clit before pressing hard on it with his thumb and your walls pulse around him as cum floods from your pussy. You squirt around his fingers and he doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy until you squirt two more times for him. Your chest is heaving and your entire body is shaking by the time he finally pulls his fingers from inside you and uses your juices to lube up his fat cock. “You were such a good girl for me, now lay back and take my cock like the good little fuck doll I always wanted.”
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Tagging some fellow Eric lovers: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @myherometalhead @that-sarcastic-writer @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent 🖤
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jediavengers · 5 months ago
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𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧
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Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral (m receiving), fauxcest, somnophilia, i think that’s it?
Pairing: Dad!Anakin x Stepdaugher!reader
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𐙚 Dad!Anakin who lets you sleep in until his raging boner is too much to ignore.
Morning wood was easily one of the most irritating things Anakin dealt with. Every morning when he woke up, his fat cock would strain against his pants, having a mind of its own. To make it worse, his little princess was always one to sleep in. He’d wait and wait, sometimes for a few hours, until it was so agonizing he would sneak into your room and get to work.
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who wakes you up most mornings with his cock either buried in your tight cunt or down your pretty little throat.
Anakin, who was no longer ashamed of this little thing going on between you, slowly unzipped his jeans, already feeling relief from having less pressure on his hard on.
‘I’ll just.. i’ll just look at her for a minute. i don’t have to wake her up, i can help myself out’ he thinks to himself. He pulls down his boxers a tiny bit, letting his cock spring free.
God, was it painfully hard.. The tip was an angry pink, precum oozing out of it. Swiping his thumb against the tip to collect his slick, he lets out a shaky breath. He pumps his cock slowly, watching how your mouth was slightly parted.
A tiny droplet of drool began to leak out of your mouth, and in your sleep, you licked it away, causing Anakin to lowly groan. After a few minutes of stroking himself, he can’t help it. He tried every morning to control himself, but he couldn’t.
He quietly climbed onto the bed, peeling back the blankets to reveal your body. You were in a simple baby pink lacy tank top and some simple cotton panties. So innocent, so you.
“Fucking hell..” he murmured, letting himself observe the obvious damp spot on your panties. He chuckled softly, your dampness giving away the fact that you’d probably had a wet dream. Slowly, he pulls your panties to the side, nearly moaning when your slick folds are revealed.
He spreads your legs gently, careful not to wake you. He positions his cock at your pussy, gently rubbing it against the slick folds. Slowly, he pushes his cock into your cunt, taking a minute to bottom out so he didn’t immediately wake you up. Letting out a pathetic whimper, he pulls out and sheathes himself back into your cunt, causing your eyes to snap open and your lips to part.
“D-dad…?” You groggily moan, rubbing your eyes to wake yourself up.
“Just our routine princess, you can go back to sleep once we’re done.”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who loves to see how excited you get when you wake up to his cock.
Your eyes widen at the feeling and you let out a pathetic whimper, sounding like one of those whiny porn starts. Anakin’s left hand grabs your hip and the other grasps your neck. “Feel good, pretty?”
“Mhm- s-so good, Dad!” You whine, biting back a cock drunk smile.
The sight travels straight down to Anakin’s cock, his length pulsing in your cunt, letting you know that this pathetic Daddy of yours was already close.
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who knows you go to sleep early so it’s closer to morning so you can have his cock again.
“Princess.. it’s 9pm. why you leaving me to go to bed so early?” Anakin whines, grabbing your wrist as you try to get off the couch and head up to your room.
“M’sleepy, Dad.” You protest.
“You’re sleepy or you can’t wait till your oblivious mom leaves us alone in the morning?”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who picks out your outfits for the day, especially excited about picking out your bra and panties.
Anakin rummages through your closet, sifting through the ridiculous amount of clothes you had.
“Ya seriously need all these clothes?” He grumbles, grabbing a tiny black skirt and a light blue top.
“You’ve gotten me most of these!”
Anakin mumbles something under his breath and kneels to your underwear drawer. He’s seen you naked plenty of times, but every time he looks in your underwear drawer, he gets all riled up. He picks out a matching blue set for you and grins. “Have a good shower princess. Let me know if you need some company.”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who will brush your hair and whisper sweet praises into your ear after you shower.
After your shower, you enter your room with nothing but a towel on. Anakin sits with his back against your headboard, lazily scrolling through his phone as he waits.
He lifts his eyes and smirks, his eyes falling on your bare collarbone, faded hickeys adorning your skin.
Anakin leans over to the nightstand and grabs your brush, then he pats his lap. “C’mere, doll.”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who insists you don’t need to do any chores, that your mother can handle it.
“C’mon, you’ve been on your ass all day. Get up and get the kitchen cleaned.” Your mom lectures, causing Anakin to immediately intervene.
“Seriously? Poor girl has been working her butt off on schoolwork this week. She’s fine, she can rest.”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who spends all of his extra money on things you want or lingerie for you since he often rips your panties off when he’s too desperate.
“C’mon baby, what was it you were wanting the other day? Got my paycheck today. Wanna spoil you.”
𐙚 Dad!Anakin who gets jealous very easily. Mention a boy at all and you best bet you’ll be on your knees and choking on his cock in a matter of seconds.
“This school project has been a pain,” You complain, leaning into Anakin’s touch as he runs his fingers through your hair.
“Tell me all about it, baby.” Anakin encourages, gently scratching at your scalp as you sit on the floor with your body between his legs. Anakin adjusts on the couch, waiting for you to continue.
“Well, it’s a group project which is probably the only positive thing about it. My partner is really smart, he’s been helping me a lot but-“
Anakin grips your hair, pulling your hair back so you were looking up at him upside down. “He?”
“U-uh, yeah, the teacher assigned us-“
“What did we talk about?” Anakin says lowly. “Tell me.”
“N-no talking to boys unless I absolutely h-have to..” you stutter. “The teacher m-made me I-“
Anakin let’s go of your hair. “Turn around.” He says using your shoulders to force you to turn around and kneel between his legs. “How long has this project been going on, hm?”
You look at the ground, but Anakin quickly forces you to look at him by roughly grabbing your chin. “Two w-weeks?”
Anakin’s face turns red in anger. “And is there a reason i’m just finding out about this now?” He asks in a deadly calm tone.
“I knew that y-you wouldn’t like it-“
“So you knew that you were doing something I wouldn’t like, refused to tell me and now you’re gonna act like you feel bad?” Anakin’s voice was eerily quiet. He shakes his head and tuts. He roughly grabs your hand and forces it to his zipper. “Unzip.” He demands.
Shakily, you do as your told. Anakin bunches up your hair, letting you finish unzipping his pants. He uses his firm grip in your hair to shove you closer down. He doesn’t have to tell you what to do. You know.
“M’sorry, dad..” you whisper. Using your hands, you pull down his black boxers enough for his cock to spring free. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
You nearly drool at the sight of his cock. Anakin’s gaze is deadly. “Don’t just sit there. You have a job, now get it done.”
Nodding quickly, you lick a stripe up his cock and moan at the taste. Anakin huffs, not liking your foreplay. He uses his grip on your hair to force you down onto his cock. He slowly begins to help you bob your head onto his length.
“There ya go, just give in. Show me who you belong to. Show me that that fucking partner you have at school is nothing. Remember who you belong to.”
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sinner-as-saint · 1 year ago
Text
you're no good for me.
Bucky x Reader AU
Run-through: After leaving a well-paying job you hated, you took the money you had saved and decided to roam around Europe: Paris, Monaco, Italy, Greece, trying to find a new purpose in life. That’s when you meet this drop dead gorgeous older man named Bucky. He’s respectful, funny, kind, flirty, and has a nice yacht. Honestly, he’s all you need at the moment. And together, the two of you embark on a journey that has potential to last a lifetime. 
Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties), fluff, sugar daddy!bucky (basically), smut, praise kink, nicknames: princess, baby girl, daddy kink, soft!dom!bucky, HEA. 
a/n: inspired by this ask. Thank you @aquariusbarnes
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“I guess I never realised solo travelling could get so… lonely, you know?” 
You said quietly to your best friend on the phone while you browsed through second-hand books in a small, cosy little bookstore you found while staying in Italy for the week. 
“Don’t get me wrong,” You chuckled, “I desperately needed this and I needed to get out of the city but, this is not doing what it should. All I do is eat, sleep, shop, and I have no one to talk to. I guess I can’t even make new friends anymore.” 
Your friend sighed, “Of course you can! You should meet new people. Go to a bar, wear something nice, and talk to some guy. Seriously, get some!” 
You laughed quietly. “I’m tired of the bar or club thing. That’s what we usually do in the city.” You groaned. “I need something new, and exciting, and-,” 
A deep voice spoke from somewhere behind you. “Excuse me, miss.” 
You turned around and had to blink a few times to register the sight in front of you. A god of a man. Tall. Well dressed in loose pants, white tank top and a delicious light blue shirt left open to show off his muscular chest. He had longish hair, tied neatly in a low bun. Pretty face, ocean blue eyes. Sharp jaw. And a slight smirk on his pink lips.
He looked older, maybe in his early forties? He radiated elegant masculinity. Very much old money. He looked like he belonged in some fashion show, or the cover of a magazine. 
“Uh, I’ll call you in a bit.” You quickly ended the call and gave the man your full attention. “Hello.” You said softly, sounding a little confused as to why would a man like that even stop and talk to anyone. 
The man gave you a stunning smile. “I noticed you dropped this.” He held out his hand and there was your tiny purse, in the palm of his large, veiny hands. 
“Oh.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you quickly took it from him. “Thank you.” You said, looking up and meeting his dangerously enticing stare. 
“Wow,” He said, with a little nervous chuckle. “You’re beautiful.” You froze at that and then he quickly added, “I’m sorry if that was too forward. It’s just… you really are beautiful.” He sounded so sincere, and you hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone in weeks so you didn’t know how to act. 
“Oh, um,” You let out a nervous chuckle too as you looked down at your shoes, embarrassed. “Thank you.” Then you added as a nervous ramble, “I think you’re really beautiful too.” 
He smiled, then let out a little laugh which made your skin tingle in the best ways. He raised a perfect eyebrow and asked in his silky smooth, deep voice, “Then how about us beautiful people go get a drink and get to know each other a little better?” 
You actually felt your face get really hot as you laughed, “So this is the part where I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out you took my kidney?” 
He chuckled. “No, no kidneys will be taken, I promise.” Then he gave you a pretty smile, “Just one drink. You’re too beautiful for me not to steal an hour or two from your day. Else, I’m gonna regret it my whole life.” 
“I see you get your way in and out of everything by being a smooth flirt, huh?” 
You gave in. And said yes to having a drink with him. 
— 
One drink turned into a late lunch, then afternoon tea, then an early dinner. The conversation flowed so easily it surprised you. He told you mostly everything about him. You noted that his name was Bucky, he was in his forties, no immediate family as they had all unfortunately passed, he was a bachelor, a businessman, currently taking some months off work to travel and sail across Europe on his yacht. 
While on a quick bathroom break, you googled him just to confirm and sure enough, he wasn’t lying. Also, the guy was much more wealthy than he let on. But you liked that. You hated men who bragged constantly. 
When it was your turn to give him your back story, you were just as transparent as he was. You mentioned where you were from, how you moved to the city after uni once you found a decent job. You mentioned how although the job paid really well, you quickly realised that being a PA isn’t as glamorous as in the movies or books, but in fact so stressful and anxiety-ridden. So you quickly began hating your job and life. Hence the resignation letter and the sudden tickets to Europe. 
“So, you’re here all alone? That’s brave I think.” He said, after you were done narrating your story. 
You scoffed before taking a sip of coffee, “No, it's quite the opposite.” You argued, defeatedly. “I couldn’t handle it and I just got up and left. I quite literally packed my stuff and ran away from the city. And now I’m just roaming around, trying to see if I can find a new purpose, I suppose. That’s the opposite of brave. If I were brave I’d face it properly. Like an adult.” Your shoulders drooped down a little. 
“Hey,” He said softly. Then reached for your hand and held it in between both of his warm palms. 
This was the first time in the past hours where he touched you. He’d been so respectful so far, not once getting too close. But right now, as he held your hand lovingly and as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles, you realised you loved having your hand held by him. 
“That’s not true at all.” He said. “You were strong enough to walk away from a situation you no longer wanted to be in, do you realise how brave that is?” 
His voice was so understanding and soft, you immediately melted. 
He continued, “I mean, you’re braver than me when I was twenty something.” He chuckled at the memory, “My father had just passed, and I was suddenly responsible for the family businesses. And…” He sighed, “How I wish I could’ve packed a suitcase and travel at that age, but I couldn’t. I was so lost at that time too.” 
You watched him as he spoke. The intelligence and experience in his eyes. The crinkles by his pretty eyes as he smiled at something he remembered from the past. The sad smile when he mentioned his now dead family. He seemed older and wiser than his age. 
“What I’m trying to say here is that you’re so young. This is your time to be selfish with your years. You don’t like a job? Leave it, find another. You don’t want to be in the city? Leave that too, travel the world. Of course, you must have some sort of makeshift plan of where you might want to be in the next five or ten years, but for the most part, live for right now.” He gave you an enchanting smile. “So tell me, where do you want to be right now?” 
The sky began to turn darker. The golden lights from the restaurant made his eyes look magical. Deep blue, and shining like jewels. The chain around his neck caught the light and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to yank on it with your teeth… 
Woah. Where did that come from? 
“Just… away. For everything.” You answered, truthfully. Wasn’t that what you were looking for? An escape? Something new and exciting. And right now with your hand in Bucky’s warm ones, this felt new and exciting. And you selfishly wanted it. You wanted this. 
“Come with me. Just for tonight. We won’t sail too far from the docks, I promise.” He said, holding your hand firmly in his. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning. Kidney and all still in place.” He teased. 
You laughed. And said yes because fuck it. 
Bucky walked with you till your hotel, and waited downstairs in the lobby while you got your things for the night. Once you met him back downstairs, he offered to carry your backpack while the two of you walked towards the docks. 
Once you reached his yacht, you had to refrain from dropping your jaw. “Oh, she’s pretty.” You whispered as he held your hand and helped you onto it. 
He smiled and said, “She’s my favourite.” Because of course he owned other luxury yachts. 
The more steps you took inside the boat, the more mesmerised you got. He had a full staff even. Bucky gave you a quick tour, showed you the bar, the hot tubs, the main deck, and all. Then led you to a spacious bedroom. 
“Get settled,” He said, “I’m just gonna get us out a bit further into the water.” He traced a gentle finger down your cheek and you found yourself nodding immediately. Then he paused, and said, “If you don’t wanna be down here alone, come find me at the helm. Okay, babygirl?” 
You froze for just a fraction of a moment, then quickly smiled and nodded again. Bucky left with a wink and once the door closed behind him, you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, he was so dreamy. 
Once he left and you explored the room a little bit, you realised you didn’t in fact want to be here all alone. So as the boat moved smoothly, you took a quick shower, got changed into your swimsuit, with a flowy beach cover up and went to find Bucky. 
Finding the helm was easy. On your way there, you saw two staff members and they both smiled at you. For a moment you wondered if they were thinking of you as just another young girl on a rich man’s boat. Oh well, whatever. 
You found Bucky standing in the middle of the area, facing multiple screens and the helm itself and so many buttons and switches it made your brain hurt. 
“Hello captain.” You said, stepping closer to him. The sun was setting now, and it was all orange and pink, quickly becoming dark blue. 
Bucky gave you a bright smile, “Hello you.” He grabbed your hand and placed it on the helm, “Here,” He came up and stood right behind you, both of you steering the boat, “There you go, keep it straight. Just like that, see?” 
You laughed, while your heart raced both at the excitement of manoeuvring such a giant boat, but also because of how close Bucky was. Your back was right against his chest, but he was still keeping a good inch or two between your bodies. 
“Alright,” He said after a while, “We’ll stop here for tonight. Come, the stars look great from the deck.” 
He held your hand and led you out onto the spotlessly clean, spacious main deck. There was a circular fireplace in the middle, surrounded by sofas and a large hot tub in the corner. And the view… oh the view was to die for. The moment Bucky let go of your hand, you rushed to look over the handrail. The water reflected the colours of the sunset, and the sky. The stars began twinkling, the more you looked the more of them you found. The light summer breeze was just cool enough. 
“It’s so beautiful out here.” You whispered, looking over at the shore, where more and more lights were turning on. You could see the place at which you’d just had dinner. You could also see the bookstore if you squinted. Just then, you felt a warmth press up against you. 
You smiled as Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder and holding you close. “Just like you, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear. 
You froze again, a familiar warmth washing over you at the nickname. A tingling sensation between your things which made you want to clench them together. Bucky must've felt the way you tensed up because he pulled away immediately. 
“I didn’t mean to make you-,” 
You cut him off quickly as you turned to face him, “Oh no, no. I don’t mind that.” You laughed, now a little shy. “It’s just that,” You couldn’t look at his pretty face as you admitted, “you make me a little nervous.” 
He laughed at that, and wrapped his arms around you once again. “Do I?” He teased. 
You hid your face by shoving it into the crook of his neck, which made him laugh even more. You couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. Fuck, it had been messing with you the whole day almost. He smelt like sin. Like pure, dangerous sin. But then he had that sweet, bright smile. And the contrast was making you dizzy. 
“Don’t hide from me, baby.” He held the back of your neck gently as he pulled your face back so he could look at you. 
You almost kissed him right there and then. He looked so good in this golden sunset. But you didn’t want to seem too desperate so you-
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cutting off whatever you’d been thinking about. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He admitted, with a handsome smirk. “So, can I? Please?” He gave you the softest puppy dog look ever. And you melted. 
You nodded once and the next thing you knew, he pushed you against the handrail and kissed you deeply. Lips soft against your own, his tongue stroking yours in a way that made you want to ride him until the sun came up the next morning. His hand remained at your waist, the other holding your head gently as he kissed you even deeper. 
“Fuck,” He groaned against your lips. “Does all of you tastes just as sweet as your mouth, babygirl?” He chuckled when you whined and squirmed. “I can’t wait to find out.” He whispered before kissing you again. 
Your brain was all foggy with desire. Your body warm and tingly under his touch. His mouth left yours and he kissed down your chin, and all over your neck and collarbones before kissing your lips again. “Bucky,” You gasped into the kiss when you felt his hand moving downward, towards your inner thighs. 
“Too much, baby?” He asked, pulling away to look down into your eager eyes. “Are we moving too fast?” 
You smiled up at him, “No. This is okay.” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand even closer to where you desperately needed him. The thin swimsuit was all that separated his hand from the wetness accumulating at your core. 
He held your stare as he moved the fabric to the side and carefully touched your throbbing clit. You squirmed, grinding against his fingers slowly. He chuckled, “Oh?” He smeared your wetness around a little more, “All that for me? Hmm?” He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth while his fingers moved up and down your wet slit. “Have you been this wet the whole time we were together?” 
You couldn’t help but whisper a quiet, “Yes…” 
He smirked, kissing your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? So unfair of you to keep this from me, babygirl.” He carefully slid a finger inside you, moving it in and out of you so slowly you couldn’t help but moan. “I would’ve taken care of you much sooner had I known you were dripping wet for me this whole time.” 
You whined again at the sound of his shameless words. “Please…” You begged. 
Bucky pulled away to look right into your eyes as he slid another finger inside you, moving both of them in and out of you while his thumb toyed with your clit. “Please what, baby?” 
You squirmed, holding onto him for dear life while moving your hips in time with his fingers. “Please,” You begged again. 
He smirked, “Use your words, princess.” He cooed. “Come on, tell daddy what you want and he’ll give it to you, baby.” 
You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud, afraid the staff might hear what a dirty young woman you were being. “I want to come, please.” You whispered, face burning at the lust in your voice. 
Bucky smiled in triumph. “There, wasn’t that easy?” He kissed your lips again, “Of course you can come, babygirl. You’ve been so good all day,” He said, “So kind and polite,” He chuckled, “Pretending like you didn’t want to climb into my lap anytime you looked into my eyes.” 
You gasped, both in pleasure as his fingers touched a sensitive spot, but also because he had just read you like a book. 
Bucky smirked. “What? You think I didn’t see it?” He leaned closer, lips brushing against your open mouth as he spoke, “I saw the way you looked at me. Longing and desire in your eyes. You just want to be taken care of. Just want a man to hold you and tell you it’s all gonna be okay and that you’re safe? Hmm?” 
His fingers brought you right to that edge. You were a whimpering mess by then, his words making you even more dizzy. 
“Look at me, baby.” When you did look up at him, he smiled softly down at you, “It’s okay babygirl, you’re with daddy now. You’re safe, and I’m gonna take care of you. Okay? Now, can you be my good girl and come for me? Hmm? Can you do that for daddy, baby?”
You came with a loud whimper, coming undone all over his fingers. Bucky watched you in awe, lips parted as he breathed deeper along with you. 
“That’s a good girl,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful, babygirl.” 
You kissed him back with even more passion than before, and your hands began exploring his body. His chest, down to his toned stomach, and further down… but then he stopped you by grabbing your wrists. 
“Later, baby. I don’t want to rush.” He said. “I’m gonna take my time with you.” He promised. “Now come on, get in the tub. Don’t want you to get too chilly.” He pointed towards the tub and you began walking towards it. When you turned around you found him walking in the other direction, towards the mini bar. 
You turned back around and headed over to the tub finally. You took the beach cover off and stepped in, nearly squealing with how perfectly hot the water was. Once you took your seat and submerged yourself till your shoulders, you noticed Bucky walked over with champagne flutes and a champagne bottle. 
But not just that. He was also not wearing anything other than tight black boxers which left very little to the imagination. You had to turn your head just so you’d look away from the gorgeousness that was this man in front of you.
But of course, he caught the look. “Don’t look away, babygirl.” He said as he stepped in and sat down next to you, his thigh rubbing against yours, “You can look. I don’t mind.” He smirked, and winked at you before popping open the champagne. 
He handed you a flute filled with bubbles and poured one for himself, set the bottle aside and clinked your flutes together. You each took a sip and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and moan at the taste. Expensive champagne always tasted heavenly.  
When you opened your eyes again you found Bucky looking at you intently. 
You smirked and asked, “What?”
He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You put up no resistance as you settled onto his thighs, an arm around his neck. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’ll moan with other things in your mouth.” 
You chuckled. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” You replied, starting to get a little more playful around him. 
He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” Then leaned in and kissed your neck, making you giggle and pull away. “You’re ticklish I see.” 
“Please don’t.” You yelped, and laughed as he tickled you even more. Champagne splashed everywhere, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “Stop!” You cried out in between uncontrollable giggles. Right as you were about to fall off his lap, he finally stopped. Kissing your face multiple times to make up for the tickle attack. Once you calmed down you said, “You’re mean. I think I wanna get off your boat now.” You teased. 
Bucky tightened his arms around you. “No,” He groaned playfully, “I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it. Right now, I promise.” 
One moment you were on his lap, and the next he was lifting you up and sitting you down on the edge of the tub. The handrail was right behind you to support your back, and you giggled as Bucky knelt in the warm water, right in between your thighs. 
“What if someone sees?” You asked, looking around to see if you’d find some of the staff members around the deck. 
Bucky placed both of his hands on your things and got closer to you. “They won’t.” He assured you. “Now come on, spread those legs for daddy.” He demanded, and you obeyed. 
You leaned back into the handrail and parted your legs. Bucky smirked, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer, lowering himself and leaning in until his mouth was right above your core. 
“Don’t even try to hide your moans from me. You hear me?” He questioned, holding your stare. 
You nodded. 
“Say ‘yes daddy’.” 
You squirmed, pushing your hips closer to his mouth involuntarily. “Yes, daddy…” Your words ended on a gasp as he placed his mouth down and licked along your slit through the fabric of your swimsuit. 
He placed a soft kiss right over your throbbing clit before he finally slid the thin fabric to the side and looked up at you, held your stare as his wet tongue licked down your folds. He moaned loudly as he tasted you. “Knew you’d taste like heaven.” He murmured, going in for more. Eager and impatient to make you come all over his tongue. 
Your hands immediately grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and gently messing up his neatly tied bun. You giggled at the sight, “I’m sorry I’m messing up your hair.” You whispered, followed by gasps of pleasure as he ate you out relentlessly. 
Bucky pulled away for a moment, looking up at you. “I must be doing terrible if you can still speak coherent sentences, babygirl.” He smirked. “I’m sorry, let me do a better job. Hmm?” 
You opened your mouth to tell him that he was just perfect but you ended up whining loudly instead as he parted your wet lips and pushed his tongue deeper into you. You threw your head back, resting it on the handrail as you moaned shamelessly, occasionally giggling as his fingers all over your thighs made you slightly ticklish. 
His warm tongue stroked you so perfectly, and Bucky growled as you lost control, moving your hips instinctively against his mouth as you chased that feeling of pure bliss. 
You whined loudly, goosebumps all over your body. You felt tingles shooting through you as his tongue teased you incessantly. Your fingers tugged harder on his hair, messing it up even more. 
“That’s better, isn’t it?” He murmured, before moving his mouth upward to suck on your throbbing clit. “You look so pretty like this, baby. All open for me to taste, whining and whimpering…” He playfully bit your inner thigh, “What is it?” He asked as another loud moan escaped your mouth. “Too much? You want to come? You want more? What is it, huh? Tell daddy what you want.” 
You just looked down at him, whimpering as you tugged harder on his hair, trying to get his mouth back on you. Your reaction made Bucky chuckle. 
“No,” He cooed, “Use your words, baby.” 
Damn him. 
“Oh please,” You whined, “I want you. I want your mouth… please daddy,” You cried out, trying to clench or rub your thighs together for some kind of friction but his muscular body being between them stopped you from doing that. 
Seeing your desperation only deepened his smirk, and increased the mischief in his eyes. “Such a good girl,” He murmured, biting down on your inner thigh before gently pushing his tongue inside of you again. You whimpered under his agonisingly soft touch. 
Bucky looked up at you as he teased you with his tongue, the intensity of his gaze making you tremble. The sky was getting darker, the stars shining more and more now. And yet, you couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes. 
“You’re all mine, babygirl…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Say it.” He demanded, licking up and down your slit, making you grind on his tongue. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’re daddy’s good girl.” 
You cried out, “I’m daddy’s good girl…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. 
Bucky could tell as well. “Then come for daddy, babygirl.” He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined under him. 
You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Humming in satisfaction, Bucky kissed his way up your body again, until he reached your mouth. Carefully, he pulled back into the tub and on his lap as he kissed you deeply. 
The warm water felt heavenly, but nowhere near how good his tongue had felt just seconds ago. You sighed in pleasure through the kiss, and you felt him smiling against your lips before he pulled away to look at you. 
“Where have you been all my life?” He asked, looking no less than a god in that tub. The soft lights made his eyes look ethereal. The darkening sky as a background made him look even more godly. 
You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you straddled him. “Stuck in a city I don’t like. Doing a job I hated. Surrounded by people I no longer could relate to.” You joked, hiding the painful truth in your words. 
Of course, he caught the sadness in your eyes. “Well, you’re here with me right now. Forget about the city, the job, and the people.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, he said, “It’s just you and me right now, princess. Just us, and no one else.” 
You smiled, closing your eyes. Warmth from the bubbling water, warmth from his body, the cool breeze, the scent of summer and excitement in the air, it all surrounded you and it couldn’t have been more perfect. 
“More champagne, baby?” He asked, pulling away. 
“No,” You said, giving him a look he knew all too well. “How about we go inside now?” 
Bucky smirked, already moving to grab towels. “Whatever the princess wants.” 
You and Bucky made a quick stop in the kitchen found in the lower levels of his yacht, to grab some snacks. You held on to your chocolate fondue and strawberries while he held the other goods. And once you made it to the lovely bedroom, the two of you ended up lounging on the bed, just eating and talking about random stuff. 
“Wait,” You said, swallowing down a mouthful of rich chocolate and strawberry. “You haven’t been in a relationship in over ten years? A whole decade?” You questioned, right after he finished telling you about how he hadn’t. 
Bucky gave you a funny look. “I’m a busy man, babygirl. I didn’t have much time.” 
You frowned, confused. “Well surely you’ve liked someone. Or are you too busy to have a crush and all that?” 
He chuckled, and you along with him. “No, I haven’t. I guess it’s been just work and more work.” 
You sighed and shrugged, reaching for another juicy strawberry, “I can’t even judge you, I haven’t been dating for years either. My last relationship…” You trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, I-,” 
Bucky cut you off by grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him, making you straddle him again. “No, it matters. Tell me what happened.” His tone was serious, caring, and attentive. 
You sighed again, “Well, it ended badly. We were both too young I suppose, and then he cheated and we were on and off for a while before I ended it a few years ago.” 
Bucky cupped your face, “You deserve so much better than that, baby. You hear me?” 
You nodded, smiling down at him. “Look at me now,” You teased, then finally took a bite out of the strawberry, unintentionally moaning. “Oh fuck…” You whined, “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” You said. 
Bucky smirked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, “You know, I could give you something even better to put in your mouth, princess.” 
You swallowed your fruit and smirked down at him. “Oh?” You played along. “What’s that?” 
He caressed your cheek lovingly, “Want daddy to show you?” You nodded enthusiastically. And he said, “Okay, get on your knees, baby.” 
You shifted from his lap to kneel in between his legs and in the meantime, Bucky was undoing the towel from around his waist. The sight of his erection had you almost begging just so you could have a taste. 
“Do you want to take daddy in your mouth and make him feel good, princess? Hmm?” He gently grabbed your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. “Do you want to make daddy come? Make him feel so good that he fills your mouth with his come, baby?” 
You nodded quickly, “Yes. I do.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart as you watched Bucky lean back into the pillows, making himself comfortable while you knelt in between his muscular thighs, his cock pointing up… looking too good not to wrap your mouth around it. 
“Go on then, baby.” Bucky’s hand slid into your hair as you leaned down and took him into your mouth. 
You moaned, with Bucky’s cock in your mouth, at how good he felt. Warm, thick, veiny. 
“Your mouth feels so good, princess,” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and took him even further into your mouth. “There we go,” He gasped, “Careful baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.” 
You whined, that caring tone of his driving you insane. Bucky held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, babygirl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl, and make daddy come.” 
You did as he asked, moaning around his cock and using your hand to play with what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 
“Oh princess, you’re so good to daddy.” 
Bucky’s groans and moans were delightful. His head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as he breathed deeply, occasionally grunting or moaning while you worked to make him come. 
“Just like that, babygirl, come on make me come in that pretty mouth.” 
You could feel the wetness starting to leak from you again. Fuck, this was so hot. The sounds he made, the sounds your mouth made, the desire and warmth washing over you… it was all too much. 
You teased his tip with your tongue, alternating between sucking on it and taking him deep in and out of your mouth until Bucky came with a growl, his grip tightening on your hair for just a moment before he went limp. Chuckling as he emptied into your mouth, and watched you swallow all of him. 
“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, “Come here and give me a kiss.” He said once you pulled him out of your mouth and you didn’t hesitate to climb onto his lap again, pressing your mouth against his. 
You moaned into the kiss, slowly grinding down on his thigh trying to alleviate the sweet pain in between your legs. 
“You’ll be the death of me.” He murmured against your lips, then went in for a kiss again before groaning, “Oh babygirl, daddy’s gotta have you now.” Then he flipped the two of you around, hovering above you as he smiled down at you. 
“Is this okay, babygirl?” He asked, caressing your face lovingly. “You still want daddy to make you feel good?” 
You trailed your hands up and down his muscular back, and nodded. “Yes,” You smiled up at him, then the chain dangling from his neck caught your eye. Without thinking, you grabbed it in between your teeth and yanked on it playfully. 
Bucky laughed looking down at you. “Is that what you want? The chain?” With one hand he got it off of him and put it over your head, you pulled it down until it rested on your neck. “There,” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss your neck, “First gift from daddy to his princess.” 
You chuckled, “Why thank you,” You pulled him down for a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his hand drifting down in between your bodies, getting rid of the towel that had been hiding your body from him. 
“You are so beautiful,” He whispered against your mouth as his hand touched you everywhere. “Wait, are you on birth control?” He asked. 
You chuckled, “Yes, don’t worry.” 
“Oh fuck, baby I can’t wait.” He groaned, pulling away to look down at you, “Can I fuck you now? Please? Can daddy make you feel good?” 
Your head spun with how badly you wanted him. Especially given how he shamelessly slid his tip up and down your slit. You nodded immediately, “Yes.” You said, “Yes, please.” 
He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin from your mouth to your neck as he carefully slid into you, so gently. “Tell me if I hurt you, baby.” He breathed into your ear. “Is this okay?” He asked, looking down at you. His pretty blue eyes so caring and gentle. 
You nodded, “I’m okay.” You whispered, feeling warm all over. 
When he pushed even deeper, your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. You gasped and moaned as he moved so slowly you almost lost your mind. 
Bucky swore. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him so perfectly he couldn’t help but just stay still for a moment and just enjoy the feeling of being inside you. “Babygirl, you feel so perfect for daddy. Look at me,” Once you did, he smiled down at you and said, “That’s it, keep your eyes on me while I fuck you, okay? I need to know I’m not hurting you.” He said. 
That only made you wish he’d fuck you like an animal. You groaned, “You’re not hurting me,” You said, “Please, daddy. Please fuck me harder.” 
He chuckled, “There she is,” He whispered into your ear, “You’re daddy’s dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. Fucking you nice and hard, “Does that feel good, baby? Hmm? Does my pretty princess feel good?” 
You nodded, moaning shamelessly, “Yes… more, more please.” You cried out, throwing your head back as he started rocking in and out of you. 
He leaned in and kissed your lips again, “I said eyes on me, baby.” He groaned, panting against your lips as he fucked you deeper. “Look at me.” 
The air around you got warm again as you met his heated stare, his movements were slightly rougher, but passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath. 
“Oh babygirl, you’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him. 
When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was intense, but loving. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him. 
He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, babygirl…” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly which sent chills down your body. “Come for daddy,” He growled. 
His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs, making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. You moaned loudly again, wantonly. 
His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. 
“Oh baby, you take this cock so well,” He growled into your ear, making your brain all foggy. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful while you take all of me in there, huh?” 
With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a cry of pleasure, gushing out all around him, grinding against him eagerly while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, filling you up. 
“Fuck,” He gasped, getting off of you quickly and holding you close to him as you caught your breath, “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked, kissing your head. 
You ended up giggling as you came down from that high. A place so far away that no one ever took you before. “I’m okay,” You said, “I do want some cuddles though.” 
Bucky chuckled, “Whatever my princess wants,” Then pulled you into him, spooning you from behind. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up tomorrow.” 
The next morning, neither of you could get your hands off each other. So that meant spending half of the day in bed. And by mid-day when you said that maybe he should take you back to the shore, Bucky refused. 
“Just spend another night with me. Please, babygirl.” He begged with those puppy dog eyes. “I’ll take you back to your hotel room tomorrow morning, I promise.” 
– 
He did take you back. But not to drop you, because he had convinced you to check out, take your things and move them to his boat. 
“We’re travelling to the same countries,” He said, “Let's just take the boat and go together.” 
You ended up spending two whole weeks with him after that conversation. Going into the third week, you forgot all about real life. All that existed were these perfect days with Bucky; sailing around Europe, watching sunsets and sunrises and stargazing, having amazing sex, and repeat. 
Reality hit you like a freight train one night when you finally remembered to charge your phone and realised that you had forgotten to update your friends and family about your location and whose company you were in. You scrolled through the endless missed calls, emails, and unanswered texts, and quickly responded to some of them. 
You didn’t get much sleep that night, not only because Bucky kept you up until the early hours of the morning, but because you were scared of having to get back to the real world. 
Bucky found you out on the main deck that morning. You leaned against the handrail, looking at the sun that would rise in a few minutes, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He stayed a few steps back, just admiring you. 
But you knew he was there. You could always tell he was watching. So you looked over your shoulder and gave him a smile, “Good morning, handsome.” 
He rushed over and wrapped his arms around you. “I can’t get over how good you look in my clothes.” And when you didn’t respond with something sassy as usual, Bucky knew something was wrong. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?” 
You turned to face him instead of the sunrise, and just said it. “I should go back home. I’ve been away for longer than I should’ve been.” You watched how he frowned at you, his eyes still a little sleepy. His hair was tied into a messy, low bun. 
You knew you’d never be able to forget this man. Even if you go back home and get sucked back into a cycle you wanted no part of. You couldn’t help but touch his face gently, caressing his cheek. 
“But,” He said, a little confused still, “We’re having fun, aren’t we, baby?” He leaned closer, holding you tighter. “You can stay. You should stay, you hate that city.” 
You nodded, “I know. But I can’t stay here forever, Buck.” It hurt to even say it. 
“Why not?” He argued. “I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I been taking care of you?” He questioned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Please babygirl, don’t leave me.” 
You gasped softly as he kissed and nibbled on your skin, his mouth moving all over your neck. “I.. I need to go home at some point.” You said. 
Bucky pulled away to look at you. The sky began to get lighter. His eyes still shone like jewels. “And where’s that?” He asked. “Where’s home, baby? Hmm? In that city you don’t like? Surrounded by people you can’t relate to? Stuck in some job you hate?” He returned the words you’d said to him the night you first met. 
And for some reason, that made you tear up. The thought of the life before him. “I… I don’t know.” You said, lips quivering as a tear fell down your cheek. 
He quickly wiped your tears away, “Baby…” He whispered, “That’s not a home, princess. Home is supposed to feel warm, free, and happy. Are you happy or free in that city?” 
You shook your head. “No,” You sniffled. “But I can’t just keep running.”  
“Just be with me. Here.” He said. “This isn’t running, this is us having fun.” 
“Well, you’ll have to go back to real life at some point too. What then?” You asked. 
He gave you a smile, “I’ll take you with me when I do, princess.” 
You scoffed, “Bucky, I’m serious.” You said.
“So am I.” He insisted. “Stay with me, babygirl. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.” 
You sighed, and wiped away your own tears. “And then what? Make you my sugar daddy?” You joked. 
“Like that’s such a horrible thing.” He argued. 
You rolled your eyes at him, tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn’t let you. You faced him again, “I can’t do that.” 
“This is gonna work.” He insisted again. “Just stay with me.” 
“We’ve known each other for mere weeks.” You said, thinking back on how these mere week have been some of the best days of your entire life. 
Bucky gave you a wise smile, and said calmly, “I’ve been in relationships that have lasted months, and even years, and yet no one has ever made me feel the way you did these past few weeks.” 
You shed another tear, “I’m a mess, Buck. I don’t even have a job.” You chuckled humorlessly, then sniffled. 
“I’ll get you a job.” He offered. 
“No.” 
“No?” 
“No.”
“Okay then, whatever you want, princess.” He said, holding you close. “But I can't let you go. I won’t.” 
“You’re awfully stubborn.” You whispered, hiding your face into the crook of his warm neck. 
“Stay with me.” 
“Bucky…” 
“Baby.” 
“What am I gonna tell my parents?” You questioned. “Oh I found a really kind, charming and handsome older guy who took me on a nice ride on his nice boat and I think I’m gonna move in and start living with him?” 
Bucky chuckled. “I took you on more than just a ride on my boat.” 
You shoved him playfully. Then relaxed into his arms again. “I’m scared, Buck.” You admitted. 
“I’m not.” He said firmly. “Baby, we’ll figure it out. Tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wanna leave what we have right now and go back to the city.” He pulled away to look at you. “Tell me that truthfully, and I’ll let you go. Can you do that?” 
You sighed, tears filling your eyes again. “No,” You whispered. “I don’t wanna go.” You said, “But I’m scared.” 
“Shh,” He hugged you close again. “I’ve got you, babygirl.” 
You wrapped your arms tightly around him, breathed in his scent and wanted to cry some more because this man was so dreamy. “What if you stop liking me?” 
“Hey.” He chided playfully. 
“I’m just saying. What if?” 
Bucky pulled away to look down at you again, “Why would you ask me that? Is it really that hard to believe that I love you? Haven’t I shown it to you these past weeks?” He questioned. 
Your eyes widened. “Oh. You love me?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like you were teasing him, but it did. 
Bucky rolled his eyes. Whispering under his breath, “You’re such a brat.” As he tried to pull away, you tightened your arms around him to stop him. 
“No, no, don't go anywhere.” You chuckled at the expression on his face. “Tell me more about how much you love me.” 
He gave you a kind smile, leaned down to kiss your forehead and whispered, “How about I show you?” 
So you let him show you. And you stayed. 
And the life you had together couldn’t have been more perfect.
2K notes · View notes
httpvomitello · 24 days ago
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Helloooo, can I request something for the 2018 turtles (ROTTMNT)? The reader arrives with the guys to show them the softshell turtle they got as a gift at a school science fair. Since they're not very sure how to take care of it, they go to the guys for help. And the turtle... it looks just like the one from The Amazing World of Gumball. I just think it would be fun to see the turtles (especially Donnie) interacting with the evil turtle haha 😭
OMG NOT THAT FREAKING TURTLE 😭😭 When I learned that Donnie is a softshell turtle, my mind immediately went to that turtle from Gumball. Like... Seriously??? That turtle is the reincarnation of evil, that's for sure. Anyways ~ i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡
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Leo is so pumped when you show up with a turtle
He’s already imagining the epic sibling turtle bonding he’ll all have, and he’s definitely scheming ways to turn your new buddy into his own personal sidekick
But as he leans in to get a better look, he catches the turtle giving him a super intense, villainous stare
"Uh, why is he looking at me like that?" Leo laughs nervously, tapping the glass of its little tank
The turtle does not break eye contact
In fact, it somehow looks like it’s plotting something
After a long, intense staring contest (which Leo loses), Leo's more hyped than ever
“Oh, we’re keeping him. This little guy’s got edge.”
He decides to call it something like "Sidekick Jr", and he tries to train it to glare on command, thinking it’ll be perfect to bring it to battle with him
Obviously you don't let that happen.
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Raph’s eyebrows shoot up the second he sees the turtle
“Whoa. That turtle is… cute.”
Lying is not Raph's focus
He is all in for helping you take care of it
But as soon as he leans in, the turtle levels him with a stare so intense that Raph is slightly taken aback
“This guy looks like he could plan a heist,” he jokes, but he’s half-serious
He’s convinced the turtle has some secret agenda and will not let it out of his sight
Raph takes pride in helping you build a “fortified tank” to protect it from any “potential escape attempts.”
He even draws up “exercise drills” to help it “build character.”
He ends up calling it something like “Lil’ Warrior”
The turtle's name is Bob
And he spends a suspicious amount of time training it to recognize commands, because “A turtle like this needs discipline.”
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Donnie’s reaction is extreme caution
Like... wtf? How is this turtle so ugly?
(He completely forgot that he is also a softshell turtle)
He’s thrilled you came to him about turtle care, especially because this guy is a fellow softshell
But then he notices the turtle’s… ominous glare
For the next ten minutes, Donnie just stares back, analyzing every detail
The turtle doesn’t blink
It feels like a showdown
"This isn’t just any turtle, you know," he mutters, more to himself
He immediately runs diagnostics on it, pulling out his tools to test its temperament and intelligence level, just in case
Donnie takes the turtle care seriously, sets up the perfect tank, gets the optimal UV lamp, and is constantly researching enrichment activities, but he still doesn’t entirely trust it
You catch him putting up tiny lasers around the tank "just in case."
And he insists on renaming it something like “Professor Menace” because, in his words
“Look at that face—he’s clearly up to something.”
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Mikey’s reaction is pure delight. “Aw! Look at the lil’ guy!”
He immediately wants to hold it, but as soon as he picks it up, the turtle gives him a side-eye that could curdle milk
Yes, the turtle is judging Michelangelo
He tries everything
Offering lettuce, sweet-talking it, giving it little pets, but the turtle just stares, expression unreadable but somehow… sinister
“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Mikey wonders, confused but determined to win the turtle’s affection
He’s convinced it just needs a bit of “good vibes,” so he tries playing calming music, talking to it about his day, and even painting a little flower on the tank
Despite the turtle’s apparent indifference
(And slightly ominous glare)
Mikey’s convinced they’re best friends
He starts calling it “Lil’ Grump,” swearing it’ll warm up eventually.
130 notes · View notes
withonly-sweetheart · 1 month ago
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Starry Eyed Singer
You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.
a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)
find the bad ending here...
alright now its time for credits
@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333
@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!
@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333
@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up
(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)
tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...
wc: 7.3k
The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.
And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.
If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.
You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.
A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.
But he mistakes fascination for infatuation. 
<><><><>
You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.
His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.
“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it. 
You scoff. “What do you think?”
“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”
His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you. 
“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes. 
After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.
“Impatient, are you?”
“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.
“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”
That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.
“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.
His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”
You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.
“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”
“They… did?”
“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”
The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign. 
<><><><>
You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.
It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.
“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.
“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.
“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”
“Good.”
“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”
“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.
“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”
“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”
He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.
You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.
How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.
Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.
<><><><>
The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.
But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.
One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers. 
It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.
With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.
A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.
"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.
You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.
But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.
An iridescent scale.
<><><><>
Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.
“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”
My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”
“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.
Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.
“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”
“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.
“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.” 
“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”
“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”
“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”
“But—”
“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”
You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.
But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear. 
Get out.
<><><><>
It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.
Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?
“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.
It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.
So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.
Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.
But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.
And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.
Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.
Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.
And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.
You’ll make sure of that.
Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You’ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.
And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.
What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits. 
In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.
As long as you come back.
<><><><>
Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.
Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.
So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.
But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches. 
Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.
Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.
Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.
Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.
It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.
He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.
And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.
Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?
<><><><>
But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.
Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.
You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong
You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.
They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.
Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.
And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.
Guess what else you were right about?
He’s no merman.
You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.
A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.
A siren.
<><><><>
“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor. 
“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.
“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.
“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”
“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.
“Mi amor-”
“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up. 
And it all comes crashing down.
“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”
His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.
You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?
The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?
You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.
But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.
“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.
“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows. 
“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”
“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”
He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?
"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."
Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.
You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.
“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.
“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.
“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.
“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”
The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.
“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.
The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.
“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 
<><><><>
As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?
But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.
When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.
Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard. 
Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.
And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.
His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.
Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?
And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.
Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.
Your mother.
<><><><>
The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.
Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.
Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out. 
You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.
So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.
But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace. 
You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.
She is free. Your mother is finally free.
A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.
But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.
You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.
Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.
You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.
And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.
The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber. 
Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.
You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.
“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts. 
“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.
Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.
Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.
"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.
He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."
"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.
“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.
Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.
“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.
 "I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."
“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.
“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.
“Hm?”
“Leon.”
“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.
“What? You do not like it?”
“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”
His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.
A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one. 
And this time, you’re never letting go.
<><><><>
The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind. 
His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced. 
“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”
“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”
“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”
“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.
“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”
“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”
“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.
“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.
“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”
“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”
“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”
“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”
“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”
You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.
Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.
You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.
Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.
“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”
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cottonlemonade · 4 months ago
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When You Mess Up On A Test (LDR)
request: small custom dragon fruit lemonade with frozen berries for Miya Osamu. (You're depressed cause you got a low grade [high school]) || fluffy, long distance relationship + you messed up on your math test with boyfriend Osamu
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“So how did yer test go?”
You heard a soft rustling through the phone as if your boyfriend had plopped down on his bed.
“Don’t ask.”, you said, your voice feeble of defeat.
“Come on, it can’t have been that bad.”, Osamu prodded.
“It was worse.”, you whined and buried your face in your pillow.
“Give me a scale.”
“Your biology final from your first year.”
“Oh wow, so ya really tanked it.”
“Yeah…”
“It’s alright. One tiny test won’t brand ya for the rest of yer life. So yer not gonna be the next Marie Curie.”
“She was a physicist.”, you informed him, although it was a little muffled from the pillow.
“Then Isaac Newton.”
“Also a physicist, babe.”
“Socrates?”
“That’s a philosopher!” You couldn’t help but laugh.
“No no, the guy with the triangles.”, Osamu insisted.
“That was Aristotle.”, you corrected, sitting up and hugging the pillow to your chubby tummy.
“God, yer both idiots. It’s Pythagoras!”, you heard Atsumu complaining from far off on the other end.
“No one invited ya into this conversation.”, his twin said dryly.
Atsumu ignored him and called, “Hey, y/n! Diddya meet Jennifer Lawrence yet?”
You snorted then said in mock seriousness, “No, Atsumu, Jennifer Lawrence does not go to this High School.”
“Dammit. When ya meet’er, get me an autograph, will ya?”
“I’ll try my best.” By now you were giggling nonstop. You missed them both. Of course, Osamu much more, though.
“I wish you were here.”, you sighed after you heard your boyfriend’s bedroom door slam into Atsumu’s face.
“In my defense, I’m not the one who wanted to study abroad for a year.”, he grumbled, “I miss ya, too, baby.”
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a/n: a quick little drabble, I’m sorry you had such a bad time. Sending a big hug! 🌟 @remylius
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sarahscribbles · 11 months ago
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𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
𝐀𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞. 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)
𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“We’re lost.” 
You’ve known this simple fact for over half an hour. The Vietnamese jungle around you is lush and sticky and alive and, while it could easily melt into one neverending green space, you know you passed this same clump of trees fifteen minutes ago; you had the good sense to mark the spot with the lid of your water tank when you last passed. 
Up ahead, James doesn’t even slow, doesn’t so much as pause at the note of irritation in your voice, only continues pushing through the low-lying trees with purpose. If you didn’t already know you were lost, his quiet display of confidence would easily have you fooled. 
“We aren’t lost,” he replies shortly. It’s the most he’s spoken to you in the past half hour. 
He flicks away an errant bug that’s landed on the tanned skin of his forearm, but still doesn’t turn to look at you. It’s inconsequential, but it makes a senseless rage bubble violently within you, enough that you seriously consider lobbing your water tank at his pretty blonde head. 
You have to settle for scowling unseen at his broad back. Both of you should have been back at base camp forty minutes ago, but here you are still fumbling through the undergrowth with this infuriating man and his stupidly tight shirt. 
An irritated escapes you at the same time a cacophony of bird song sounds from the skies above. You recognise it as Parakeets, Long Tailed and Alexandrine. A sign that you’re at least close to the camp.
“Of course I’m the one who gets stuck with a tracker who can’t find his way out of a fucking forest,” you goad him.
It’s not intentional, not really, but you’re exhausted and hot and it’s been hours since you last ate. 
And, maybe, some small part of you is scared that you won’t find the camp before nightfall, but hell will freeze over before you admit that to James Conrad. 
The man already thinks you’re a runt. 
James still doesn’t stop or outwardly acknowledge your taunting, but even from where you are behind him you can see the roll of his shoulders and clench of his jaw that signals his agitation. 
You’re treading on very thin ice. 
“We aren’t far,” James replies in a tight voice. “Base camp is roughly four miles from here.”
It’s this that tips you over the edge - his maddening stubbornness that’s going to lead you both straight into the mouth of yet another one of this island’s almost comically large beasts. 
“For fuck’s sake, will you just admit that you have no idea where we are or where you’re going!” You raise your voice and come to a complete standstill in the tiny clearing. 
It has the desired effect. 
James finally stops in his tracks and swiftly turns to face you. Irritation and annoyance are etched into every line of his handsome face, and you don’t miss the way his hands ball into fists by his sides. 
You catch sight of the prominent veins on the backs of his hands and your traitorous heart leaps within your chest. You hate that it isn’t out of fear. 
“Where should we be heading, if you’re so sure?” He doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s no doubt that he’s angry. 
His piercing blue eyes are fixed intently on yours, demanding an answer that you can’t give him. Even if you did know the right way back to camp, the sight of him in that sweat drenched shirt clinging almost erotically to his defined chest would make words difficult. 
You swallow quickly and lick your lips, fighting to keep your eyes from running over the bulge of his biceps. The man could likely toss you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour; could very likely toss you from position to position…
No.
“I don’t know!” You force yourself to snap out of it, but even you can hear the shakiness to your voice. “I don’t know how to get back, but this is the second time we’ve come through here! I threw the lid of my water tank right there the last time we passed. You might not like me, James, but we are lost!”
He studies you silently for a moment, confusion sinking into his face as he turns your words over in his head. For second, you fear that you’ve really pissed him off, but when he finally takes a few short steps toward you, there’s something that could almost be described as humour lighting up his eyes.
“Does that explain why you’ve been such a monumental pain in the ass since we arrived?” he asks, and you swear you see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 
You let out a disbelieving laugh at his audacity. “Me? You could be a character study on being a pain in the ass!”
He’s smiling fully at you now, as though he’s privy to some secret that you aren’t. “I’ve been nothing but warm and welcoming,” he replies easily, and now he’s standing even closer to you, so close that you catch the faint musky scent of his aftershave. 
You can only stare wordlessly at him. His eyes are twinkling and they seem softer, like somehow you amuse him. 
Like he’s fond of you. 
“I think you seriously need to relearn the meaning of “rolling out the welcome wagon”,” you say quietly, because it’s getting hard to breathe properly with how close he is to you. 
His smile grows as he closes the remaining distance between you both, until you’re backed up against the tree trunk and have to tilt your head to look at him. There’s something achingly tender in the way he looks at you, and you swear your heart stops when he gently takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
“I’m teasing, darling,” he says softly. 
Darling. It makes a pleasant golden warmth seep through your veins. 
James’ eyes scan your face slowly like he’s seeing you for the first time. He’s so wonderfully close to you that it would be only too easy to reach out for him, to run your hands along the firm planes of his chest and his broad shoulders the way you’ve often dreamed about. 
But you don’t. 
Out of fear of ruining whatever is happening between you both, you hold back, letting James take the lead. You’ll happily follow. 
The soft pad of his thumb runs over your bottom lip, making you grateful for the tree at your back holding you up, and you watch his eyes dart between your lips and your eyes. 
“Tell me to kiss you. Please,” he murmurs, letting his thumb trace your cheek. 
Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, as though screaming out for him, and you don’t hesitate in granting him his request. 
“Kiss me, James.” 
His lips are surprisingly soft when they press against yours, like he wants to savour every last second. He cups your face with two large hands, holding you firmly in place as his tongue slips into your mouth. 
You feel high on the feel of him and finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around his shoulders. James smiles against your lips and presses more firmly against you until you aren’t sure where he ends and you start. Suddenly, the tiredness and hunger and uncomfortable stickiness of the Vietnamese jungle doesn’t matter; all that does is that James Conrad is kissing you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. 
One hand eventually drops from your face to curl around your knee, pulling your leg up and around his waist. You feel the hardened length of him through his jeans and when he grinds his hips against yours…
“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall against the tree while he moves to suck a bruise into your collarbone. “Don’t be a tease.” 
He lifts his head to press another slow kiss to your waiting lips, and lets his forehead rest heavily against yours. “I have no intention of teasing you, sweet girl. I want this just as much as you do, but not here.”
You whine, but it only makes him laugh. “I have a very comfortable bed back at camp. Surely, you would prefer that?” 
Wrapping your arms tighter around his neck, you pretend to pout. “Fine, but that brings us back to the original issue of you not knowing where the hell we are.” 
James playfully squeezes your hips. “An hour will have us there, but every minute we go over is a minute I spend making it up to you. How does that sound?” 
You grin and pull him in for another kiss. “It sounds perfect.”
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beomiracles · 5 months ago
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hi serene! happy 500!!!! for your 500 bash i was thinking of street racer beomgyu au omg. i read a fic about it on wattpad but they never completed it i would loveee to see what you come up with ! ^^
500 BASH SPECIAL
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#serene adds ✎... oouu this was a fun one! though I've never written anything street racer before so idk how au centric it was...I fear it might be a little less plot and a little more smut...I hope that's still okay ૮꒰•༝ •。꒱ა
wc -> 1.8k
pairings street racer!beomgyu x afab!reader warnings semi-public sex, unprotected + pullout method, oral (f. rec), fingering, tiny bit of overstimulation, praise kink?, beomgyu wants reassurance
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The night air was cold enough to have you wrapping your boyfriend’s jacket tighter around your body. It had been such a foolish decision to come out here in nothing but a tank top and a skirt, but it was June, shouldn’t the weather show at least a little mercy? You pull your phone from your bag as you glance at the time, 1:32 am. Jesus christ, you could be in bed right now. But your boyfriend had insisted on you coming to watch him race; and like the loyal and supportive girlfriend you were, you of course said yes. 
In all honesty you didn’t like the idea of Beomgyu racing, in fact you hated it. It was a dangerous, not to mention illegal and unnecessary sport. You were seriously worried that he would end up getting hurt one day; though he always assured you that he wouldn’t because he ‘knew what he was doing’. — You thought that he was just lucky. 
A row of murmurs coming from somewhere beside you garners your attention as you turn toward the end of the vacant street. In the far distance you could make out the headlights of the approaching cars and soon the loud roar of engines filled the quiet night air. Immediately you recognize your boyfriend’s car amongst the crowd, up by the very front, the red vehicle easily maneuvered past its competitors. 
Even though you were strongly against the whole idea of street racing you couldn’t deny the fact that Beomgyu was good, like really good. And you supposed that it was kind of hot the way he blew past the finish line way before the others. When the race was declared done, his car came to life once more, making a screeching noise as it circled back to aim for you. — Stumbling backward you shriek, causing multiple heads to snap in your direction as the red sports car comes to a stop mere inches from your feet. 
Your boyfriend climbs out of the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him as he walks over to your stunned figure. A hand snakes around your waist as he pulls you to his chest, crashing his lips against your own. Your eyes widen as you blink up at him, a hand on his torso pushing him back. “Everyone’s staring”, you whine as you throw an anxious glance over your shoulder to the small crowd who’s attention had shifted entirely to the two of you. 
Beomgyu doesn’t bother even turning his head as he pulls his jacket tighter around you, “so?” he mumbles as he leans in the kiss the corner of your lips, making you shudder as heat rises to your cheeks. — “What’d you think of it?” He wonders as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You give him a scolding glare as you poke his chest with an accusing finger, “you know what I think of it.” 
Your boyfriend smirks as he rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah, but what’d you think of me?” You knew that he was eager to prove himself to you, to make you proud, you just wished he understood that he didn’t need to do all that in order to have your full support and love. — Still, you couldn’t help but grin as you trail your fingers across his shoulders. “I think you were amazing”, you say as you lean in to give his cheek a quick peck. 
“Yeah?” He murmurs as the hand on your waist pulls you flush against his chest. “And what else?” — You roll your eyes before pressing kisses to his jaw and neck, “I think you were extremely sexy, especially when you crossed the finish line way before anyone else.” The smirk on your boyfriend’s lips only grows as he basks in your praise. “Mh-hmn, won for you baby”, he sighs as you press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I bet you did”, you whisper. 
“So where’s my reward?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you shake your head as you press a finger to his lips. “When we come home.” — Beomgyu’s grip on you immediately tightens as he rests his forehead against your own, “why not now?” You frown as you look up at him, “now?” You glance over at the crowd slowly filling out as everyone began making their way home. “I don’t know I-” 
Your words are swallowed by a yelp as Beomgyu’s hands move to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up on the hood of his car. “Beomgyu!” You give his shoulder a push but your boyfriend only smirks as he leans in to kiss your neck, making you forget any protests along the way. — His teeth graze along the exposed skin as he gently nibbles on it, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he pushes himself impossibly closer to you, his hard on brushing against your panties and you shiver. 
The lonesome street was basically vacant at this point, save for the two of you. Eagerly, he yanks your underwear down your thighs and you gasp as the cold air hits you. “Wait”, your nails dig into his shoulder and your boyfriend pulls his head from the crook of your neck as his lustful gaze meets yours. You blink, suddenly feeling flustered under his stare, “I…I didn’t bring a condom I didn’t think we–” 
“Doesn’t matter”, he groans as he reconnects your lips in a messy kiss, his hand coming up to rest on the nape of your neck as he brings your face closer to his. “I need to have you right now”, he grunts as his other hand glides along your inner thigh, fingers dragging across your wet folds, making you squeal against his lips. 
Your moans are devoured by his hungry mouth as he slides two fingers inside your cunt, curling them only to have you clench around him as your thighs tremble. His kisses move from your lips down to your jaw, his hot breath a stark contrast to the cold air surrounding you. “I’ll win for you”, he mumbles against your skin. 
“Y-you already have”, you breathe as your fingers slowly trail toward his hair, twisting a few strands between them. His thumb on your clit coaxes a small cry from you as he shakes his head. “I’ll win all of it. Every single race. I’ll buy you nice things, take you out.” His fingers inside your cunt move faster as he double stimulates you, bringing you dangerously close to an orgasm. 
“F-fuck, Beomgyu I’m…I’m..” you ramble as your thighs squeeze around his hips. — Beomgyu groans as he feels your cunt engulf his fingers, the hand on the back of your neck moving to your chest as he carefully guides you to lay down against the hood of his car, the cool metal making you shudder as he parts your trembling legs even further, spreading you wide for him.
You whine when you feel him withdraw his hand, but mere seconds later it’s replaced by his hot mouth and you gasp. “Need you to cum on my face”, he practically moans as his tongue licks across your wet cunt, flicking over your clit teasingly. Eyes rolling back in euphoria, your arms lay sprawled across the hood of his car as you gaze up against the starry sky. 
A small mewl rips from your throat as you vigorously clench around his tongue, coating his lips in fluids as your orgasm washes over you. Beomgyu groans against your cunt, his hands firmly gripping your thighs as he continues to kiss at your glistening folds to the point of overstimulation. You wail against his touch and your boyfriend reluctantly pulls himself from between your legs to hover above you, a hand placed next to your face to support himself as he quickly undoes his zipper. 
Panting, you gaze up at him with a clouded expression and he smirks, the lower half of his face shiny and wet from making out with your cunt. “You can do one more for me, right baby?” He coos as he slides the tip of his cock against your sensitive pussy, making you gasp as you writhed beneath him. 
With a groan he slid himself inside, his brows knitting together as his mouth fell open. “Fuck you always feel so good”, he murmurs as his head dips down to rest in the crook of your neck, pressing sloppy kisses to your already bruised skin. Unable to form a coherent response, you merely sigh as he thrusts himself further inside, resting his forearms on either side of you. 
Your hands rake across his back, disappointed to feel the material of his racing jacket rather than his bare skin. With each snap of his hips he grunts against your neck. “Tell me that I did good..” he groans as his lips drag across your exposed collarbone. — “Please”, he breathes. 
Cupping his cheeks, you bring his face level with your own as you capture his lips in a kiss. “You did. You always win for me.” You whisper as you brush your tongue against his, making him shudder against you as his pace quickens. — “You always make me so proud to be your girlfriend.” 
Beomgyu sighs against your lips as one of his hands moves down your body, his fingers easily finding your clit as he stimulates it, making you cry out into his mouth. “Fuck I love you”, he groans and you feel the movement of his hips grow jagged. “Please, please, want you to cum on my cock”, he breathes as he jerks up into you, making you gasp.
Nodding, your hands slide down his shoulders to ground yourself as you feel your second orgasm approaching. A small sob passing your lips as you clench around him, making him grunt as he fucks you through your high, his fingers on your clit unwavering as your head falls back against his car. 
A few thrusts later he withdraws with a small hiss, his hand wrapping around his shaft as he strokes himself to his own orgasm. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you quickly regain your breath before leaning forward to push his hand away as your fingers take his place, grinning at the way his breath hitches when you slide your thumb across his tip. 
His hips stutter against your grip as he releases all over your hand, some of it landing on the hood of his car, though he doesn’t seem to care as he quickly pulls you in to crash your lips together. You sigh into the kiss as your arms wrap around his neck. 
“I love you too.”
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