#they even cut each other's bangs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prkhaven · 2 months ago

Text

STICKY -p.js, s.jy-

The good looking neighbors never know when to shut up so instead they shut you up

pairing— boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake

genre: smut minors do not interact, boxer/boys next door au, p without plot

wc: 11.2k

-all warnings below cut-

warnings: profanity, kissing, sweat, mention of injuries, mention and scene of violence/fighting(boxing)

smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex (safety first), p in v, threesome, dom!jay, soft dom!jake, dirty talk, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral (f+m rec.), deep throating, praising, slight degradation, cum eating, usage of nicknames (babe, sweetheart, nasty girl, sweet girl)

Groggily opening your eyes, the sleep that once engulfed you now faded away to the muffle loud ruckus. Your eyebrows knitted roughly before taking a look at the time before a deep sigh let your mouth.

Realizing and knowing your neighbors are not going to finish until the crack of dawn—like always. Your chair screeched as you roughly stepped out of your apartment, walking over to apartment 512.

Rubbing your sore neck from the sleeping position you were awakened from,“Do they ever know when to be quiet?” You mumbled, your hands dragging down your face as you tried to ignore the evident loud grunts and sound of rubber colliding drawing closer with each step

At first, you thought having two good looking neighbors would’ve been the best thing to ever happen in your life. Always trying to catch

a glimpse of them in the beginning until the loud ruckus began not even an hour after they moved in.

Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt that it’d just be every now and then while they get accustomed into the new apartment, but when it kept happening every single waking hour possible in the day, you began to grow agitated.

You don’t know how many times you’ve complained to them about the noise or how many times they promised to keep the noise down to a minimum as you promised to not file a noise complaint but they never filled their end of the bargain and you’re tired of it.

Banging roughly on their door, hoping they could hear it past the already loud noise in there and just to your luck, a few seconds later, there was no response.

As you continued to bang at the door, determined to not leave until they opened up, the door opened in a haste but it was too late for you to stop your hand. Suddenly mimicking the knocking motion on a hard chest, you yanked your hand away.

The male in front of you smirked, looking down at the pec you knocked on, “Don’t think this one is going to answer, why don’t you try the other one?” He rested his head against his leaning arm, the sweat trickling down his forehead down to his jaw, tracing it down during its way

Your eyebrows furrowed seeing the new face. This was not either of your neighbors.

“Who’s at the door, Hoon?” You heard a breathless accented voice from inside the apartment and able to immediately recognize it from the sheer amount of times you heard it

“Promise to keep quiet” and “Didn’t mean to be so loud babe”

All empty lies from him—Jake.

“Don’t know but she’s cute” The said Hoon chuckled as he stared at you, his eyes traveling up and down your figure drinking in your appearance

The small compliment managed to tickle your brain as you tried to stop the heating from fully reaching your cheeks. “What’s your name?” The male leaned his head to level with yours but before you could comprehend a plausible answer, he was pulled away and there you saw the familiar face

Sharp jawline, piercing eyes, ruffled hair with a freshly new undercut drenched in sweat. The bulging biceps from the clinging tank top where you could outline every dip and crevice on his sculpture body.

“Jay” You squeaked out causing a light smirk to form on his face as he ushered his friend Hoon away from the door but not before he shot a wink towards your way waving out his thumb and pinky close to his ear, mouthing the words call me

“Sorry about… Just ignore him” Jay panted out, using the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat hanging from his chin

You gulped trying to keep your eyes leveled with his and to not look at the clear muscle definition sticking out with his every movement.

“He’s the least of my concern right now” You mumbled, which in fact was true, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt before clearing your throat, “How many times do I have to tell you guys to keep it down?”

“Sorry about that sweetheart-”

“I’ve told you and Jake to stop calling me those names” You huffed out causing Jay to chuckle using his fingers to brush away the hair sticking to his skin showcasing his sweat filled face

Your eyes looked over and saw a scratch on his forehead that was covered before. “It was a rough match” Jay spoke noticing your interest on the cut, “But don't worry, I won” He pumped his pride filled chest out, a side smile appearing on his face

“I-I didn’t- I don’t care” You looked away to anywhere that wasn’t him already feeling the heat spreading throughout your body, “Just stop or keep it down tonight, please”

“Oh?” Jay raised an eyebrow, never hearing you beg before but quickly loving how you sound, “You really want us to shut up, don’t you?”

“So damn badly” You softly let out making Jay raise his hands up in defense as his wordless apology

“We’ll try but no promises” He smiled hoping it’d satisfy you a little but only received an annoyed eye roll as you walked back to your place

Jay’s hand gripped the door frame, his body leaning forward to watch your hips swaying as you walked away, “Bye” He called out earning a warning glare as you opened the door and slammed it

He smirked to himself, closing his own door. “You guys must be annoying to live next to” Hoon commented as he rested up a chair waiting for Jay to return

“Shut up Sunghoon” Jay sneered earning a howl from his friend hearing the harsher tone used towards him unlike the softer voice used with you

“Just stating the facts” Sunghoon raised his hands up in surrender, “But what’s her name?”

“She’s so my type”

“Fuck off Hoon” Jake striked a direct hit towards the punching bag, the rubber sound echoing out before sending another strike as he spoke, ”She wouldn’t want you”

“Oh I’m sorry, did she tell you that?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows towards Jake, “Why won’t she be into me? Because I’m not some fucking boxer like you two?”

Jay walked over to his discarded wraps of a glove, wrapping the white fabric around his hand and knuckles with precision making sure not a single piece of skin showing, “Exactly” Jay threw the boxing curved towards Sunghoon who grunted when he revived them on his stomach

“Now get up, I need to practice”

✮⋆˙

Coming back from a tiring day, you were ready to fall asleep the moment you met your bed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief seeing your front door in view. Just as you took a step forward, the door next to yours opened wide.

“Hurry up Jay” Jake yelled holding the door opened but it whacked behind him once he caught sight of you

He hissed at the collision and rubbed the back of his head, you sucked your teeth into a hiss but being the boxer he is, he must be used to it.

“It doesn’t kill you to hold open the door” You heard Jay’s voice once the door opened again, “Fucking move-” Jay shoved the frozen Jake out of the way and there he saw you looking at them standing not far away from them

You looked between the two males, now noticing the different duffle bags they each held. Jake having a lighter washed out green with his name largely written in the front and Jay having a blacked out one with different designs all around, “We have a match today” You looked back up to Jake who’s hand that now hovered over his head noticing your lingering eyes

Your lack of response made them shift to stand side by side with each other, reminding you of the times, very few times why you were happy—almost glad that they were your neighbors in the first place.

Not only one but two good looking boys next door who just so happen to be boxers, with raging muscles that called for you to claw at was the wildest and grandest fantasy you could ever have which became your reality when your two lovely neighbors showed up at your doorstep introducing themselves.

Opting to stay quiet, you slowly nodded your head and took a step in the opposite direction of them but stopped when you heard one of them speak up, “Wanna wish us good luck babe?”

“This match…” Jake looked off to the side catching Jay’s glance towards him, “It might be the biggest one of our career” Jake said turning his gaze back onto you and you furrowed your eyebrows noticing a glint of sparkle in his eyes

Why want you to wish them luck? You had no grand power towards them. “Uh good luck?” Your supposed support ended in hesitance rather than a welcoming gesture

“Who do you think will win? Me or Jake?” Jay suddenly chipped in, wrapping his arm around his friend where it allowed you to focus on the bicep growing in size

Taking a discreet gulp, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, who’s the better boxer?” Your question meaning to be harmless but noticing the sudden shift in them made you unconsciously straighten your posture

Not entirely sure why you’re deciding to entertain them but it’s definitely more fun than collapsing onto your bed.

“Why don’t you find out sweetheart?” Jay’s voice suddenly dropped into a slurred tone making your insides twist as you crossed your legs trying to hide how easy it was to leave you flustered

You hated the nicknames they used to address you but it sure did leave a squish in between your legs.

Jay’s smirk grew in size once he saw your reaction, Jake on the other hand, grew in dissatisfaction to the lack of attention towards him. He pushed Jay’s arm off his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “No need to worry or stress about it too much, I’ll win since you know” Jake shrugged his shoulder while consciously flexing his arms his shirt lifting in the process showing the bottom outline of his toned stomach in a teasing manner “I’m the better boxer”

“I’ll even dedicate my win to you-”

“You sure sound confident you’ll win” You sucked in your teeth cutting him off, tilting your head to the side, “Isn’t it bad to be cocky?” Jay turned his head to the side to stifle his laugh as Jake’s shoulder dropped along with his face

“No- Not cocky, what- There’s nothing wrong with being confident of yourself ” Jake defended himself making sure to put the emphasis on confident in his sentence causing you and Jay to burst out in an unexpected coordinated laugh

“Alright, if you’re so confident. Then win it” Jay stopped his laughter instantly with a dropped jaw while Jake held back a prideful smile at the faith you have in him

“And what’s in it for us?” Jay grabbed Jake’s shoulder to pull his friend back enough for him to step up

Jake shot Jay a look—a warning one that screamed for him to shut up.

You jerked your head back, thinking it was a terrible joke but seeing the seriousness in his face made you stop from laughing, “You want something for me?”

“I thought pride and dignity would be enough knowing that you won”

Jay shook his head and Jake pulled at his friend’s shoulder muttering something incoherent to you but noticing the snapped look Jay gave Jake who glared at him made you raise an eyebrow.

Jay sighed before shaking his head, “Yeah whatever, pride and dignity stuff is what matters” He waved off, hiking up the duffle bag from his slipping hand

“I-I mean we could play genie…” You cringed at the choice of words but tried to look past it as a terrible humor attempt, “Winner gets one wish but you each grant me one wish in return no matter who wins”

The sudden vocal admit of being able to receive something from you—of their choice triggered something into their mind, already motioning the gears sooner than when they were originally supposed to move.

“Wha-Why do we both have to grant you one wish? Seems unfair to me” Jay narrowed his eyes to hide the excitement building up in him

“You owe me that much at least” You snapped back, “Do you know how much I put up with you two? I think it’s fair game”

“Well in boxing-” Jay started but Jake quickly covered his mouth and pulled him back showing a gleeful smile

“Don’t listen to him, you got yourself a deal” Jake extended his freehand out for you grasp while handling the frantic Jay in his arm wanting to push him away

Feeling the twist of your stomach warning of the lack of care in your words or the situation in general but a wave of excitement took over in a matter of seconds as you focused on greater matters.

What you need to buy for the upcoming birthday this week and the bulging muscles peeping out from underneath their shirts.

Grasping Jake’s soft yet harsh hand, you both shook on it. A way too wide smile on his face and a strained one on yours. Regrets, you’ve had them, you just wish this wouldn’t be one of them.

✮⋆˙

“Remember our deal Jay” Jake reminded his friend and roommate with a smirk as his red mouthpiece showed the hidden excitement slipping out

Jay waved him off, tapping the side of his blue headgear to get in the zone. Both were aware of what could be theirs due to the grand opportunity presented to them by your terms so losing wasn’t really up their alley.

“Hey” Jay turned around hearing the call with furrowed eyebrows

Jake smirked before clicking the strap off, allowing his headgear to slip off his shoulder and down to the ground. Jay’s eyes never left Jake’s once, his stoic face soon grew a smile noticing the insinuation, “No gear, just gloves and mouthpiece”

He didn’t respond to Jake’s words, only following in suit during the silence. He clicked off his headgear to land in his arm and threw it off to the side with a loud clunk as it rolled off. Jake’s smile grew wider before kicking his own piece out to follow Jay’s.

“May the best man win” Jay murmured as he walked over, pushing out his glove covered hands for Jake to clink

Once the tip of their gloves touched, they both went to their respective corners in the confided boxing arena with worn out ropes outlining it that’s long overdue for its replacement.

Jake tapped his bare stomach feeling the crevice even through his glove as he shook out his limbs to get rid of any tension that could alter his performance.

Jay twisted his neck side of side, stretching his upper body backwards enjoying the cracks of the built up pressure releasing. He let out a satisfied groan.

At the sound of the whistle, they marched over to the middle, face to face, a stern determined look that screamed louder than anything they could express through words.

At the weak ding 5 seconds later, Jake striked the first punch causing Jay to step back in haste to avoid it. ”Wasting no time” He muttered under his breath before jumping on his toes

His arms leveled with his head protecting it with the lack of extra protection from the discarded headgear. Jake was still smiling through the whole thing as he twisted his body to the side.

He trains with Jay day in and day out that they are practically one, he knows how his roommate attacks.

Jay took his infamous step forward, his arm coming from below but Jake’s eyes caught it before it could fully land. He blocked the attack with his arm, deflecting it away.

“C’mon Jongseong, you’ll have to be better than that” Jake spat through his mouthpiece and Jay rolled his eyes at the muffled comment

While Jake was silently laughing at his comment like it was hilarious, Jay took the opportunity to swing straight to Jake’s side making him wince upon impact. “Shit” He grunted under his breath from the unexpected attack having Jay chuckle showing a covered teeth smile

You’re the one that’ll have to be better than that was Jay’s famous internal monologue before tumbling back from the strike straight to his stomach knocking him off his feet landing Jake the lead up by 1 point.

The match now tied continued far longer than they wanted but it was to be expected. Grander schemes were at play and in their minds, both of them needed to win this match, the two s’ in their lives depended on this.

Social and the other s that they’ve been denying far too long forcing it to bubble all thoughts in their minds whenever you’re around.

Jay could feel the exhaustion catching up to his body, the faint metallic taste on his tongue when he licked his lips. Jake, having his sweat mixed with whatever else was spilling out of him dragged down his neck, a wild smirk on his face mimicking his crazed gaze.

Having the more stamina out of the two, he barely had a dent in his energy levels unlike his roommate. Jake sucked his bottom lip, victory never tasted so good before.

Right when Jake was going to swing his final punch to end the match and earn the last point needed for his sweet sweet win, he felt the harsh pressure straight to his head knocking him down to the ground without much thought.

His head was pounding against his skull as he landed on his knees and elbows, trying to push his body back up to continue to the match, barely able to hear the faint countdown through his ringing ear.

Jay tapped the floor repeatedly in pure excitement once time was called. He walked around the secluded arena hyping himself up from the great play.

Jake crumbled and turned his body around to face the poorly lit ceiling, “I win” Jay’s bruised face came into view, panting heavily as he extended an arm to help the sprawled Jake up who glared up at him, shoving the helping arm away in a grunt

“Fucking cheater” Jake grumbled, “You swung a foul hook”

“We never said anything about following match rules” Jay twisted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders like he did no wrong—well technically he didn’t. “I just interpreted it as a free fall” Jake’s face contorted in dissatisfaction at his friend’s words

Jake continued to stare up at Jay, the dim lighting behind blinded him in the process. The cocky demeanor that Jay tried to push down now slipping through that Jake could feel it in himself and he lost.

Rolling his eyes, he sat up his sore body from the hard mattress, the side of his jaw and head tingling with a sensation he tried to ignore from the reality of his loss. “C’mon Jake no hard feelings right?”

“You remember our deal” Being reminded while he finally stood up, Jake tapped Jay’s chest before grabbing his neck to crash and rest their sweaty foreheads together in hopes of the simple gesture being the wordless reminder of the full length of their deal

“Don’t fucking ruin her before me” Jake sneered causing Jay to smile widely as he dragged out the mouthguard, moving his mouth around to the freedom letting out a dark laugh as he stared right back into Jake’s eyes

“Where’s the fun in that?”

✮⋆˙

Your mouth fell slack as Jay stood at your door all bruised up as he dropped the filled duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump, “I won” He breathlessly muttered but his tone secure and firm

“Did you really?” You quietly commented seeing the dried up scratches and faint bruises forming on his sculptured face with his frizzy drenched hair

Something sickening twisted inside of you as you stare not able to peel your eyes away from him. Your legs stuck tighter together, it must be a worrying pity that you were feeling but the excitement that began to rise when you opened the door to see him was undeniable.

Jay huffed snapping you out of it, “I want my wish”

Perplexed, you blinked your eyes harshly, “What?” You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right through the muffling of your ears growing by the second he’s in your presence like this

“You said let’s play genie. So let’s play genie”

Trying to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor now realizing how your words did in fact come to bite you. Your eyes traveled around his face looking past the injuries to see pure determination. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Nerves began seeping into your brain as you tried to make sense of his blazing determination, “I-I wait- Wha-What?” You stuttered out when Jay’s head suddenly leveled with yours as he drew closer

His faint breath fanning over yours, tilting his head to the side staring off to the distance, sucking his teeth in the process, “For my wish…” Jay turned his gaze back to you, nose bumping into each in the process from the closeness, “Take care of me”

You gulped harshly at his conceding words. There felt to be an underlying sense from just what was being said. As you stared at his deep eyes, it was like he read every thought that was crossing your mind—searching for the one that yelled for him.

“I-I don’t have anything to treat you” You softly mumbled but your eyes never looked away making him let out a low chuckle while his unnoticed hovering hand landed on your lower back to squish the distance in between to nothing

“What type of genie are you?” Jay jokingly tooted his lips softly shaking his head, “That’s okay sweetheart, good thing for you I have everything you need”

And a few moments later, you found yourself sitting on Jay’s bed, in his room that is exactly what you imagined it to be. A waif of musky cologne, a bunch of weights scattered around, an inflatable punching bag and to your surprise two guitars—one electric disconnected from the amplifier and an acoustic in the corner.

You dropped your head into your hands from the blur of you stepping out of your place and following Jay back to his only to find yourself in his room, on the edge of his bed and the prominent flutter in your chest growing in anticipation.

You should’ve been more careful with your words.

“What are you doing here?” You remained quiet holding your head in your hand, trying to ignore the question from Jake who you quickly recognized by the accent slipping through, “Babe?”

“I told you not call me any na-” You started hearing his voice drawing in as you lifted your head up only then realizing just how close Jake was to you all of sudden

Jumping from the unexpected closeness, Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you to prevent you from toppling over to the floor. “You should be more careful. Can’t have all three of us hurt” He lightly chuckled

Taking into account his words, you stared at him wide eyed soaking in the bruised lip, a cut on his cheek with a growing redding and a cut that peeked from under the messy fluffy hair faintly covering his eyes that you itched to sweep away.

In a moment of silence, Jake's eyes poured deep into yours—not in search of anything just merely looking, he let out a low sigh, “Don’t think I ever told you how pretty you are” He hummed while his eyes zeroed on your lips for a second longer, making sure you noticed “You’re so pretty” His eyes looked up to catch yours staring right at him, never looking away

Your mouth slightly fell open to respond but instead a strained noise came out of your mouth, “I have a small wish” Jake murmured in a soft hallucinated tone, his lips so close to yours, “Will you give it to me?”

“Jake” You breathlessly let out and Jake crashed his hovering lips onto yours and almost instantaneously, you closed your eyes shut and fell into his plump lips smiling against yours

The puttering of your heart was so loud, you're worried Jake might’ve been able to hear it from how close he was. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly at your back while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as much as he could.

His freehand rose and cupped at your jaw to stabilize himself, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, silently pleading for your permission. You cracked open your mouth as he entered like he’s been waiting for so long.

Your hands grabbed the thin fabric you would barely call a t-shirt clinging to his body for support. Pulling at your lip, you slightly jolt making him smile harder in the kiss. His hand traveled from your jaw to the side of your neck as he pulled away from the kiss.

You chased after his lips with closed eyes not wanting to feel the warmth disappear but your eyes shot wide open when you felt wet splotches placed at the side of your neck.

Jake messily planted feathering kisses all around your neck. Your hands gripped his hair, erupting groans from him as you pulled when he nibbled at your skin.

Your neck fell pliant in his hand, providing all access to him. Jake roughly stuck his body to yours, curving your body with his. “Jake” You breathlessly pant, your eyes fluttering shut

“That’s right, say my name” He grumbled against your skin while his fingers dug into your sides not wanting to let you go even for a second

“You fucking sleeze” You jumped at the sudden voice not far from you or Jake

Jay stood at his door, an amused smirk resting on his face. He pushed back his hair from his forehead with a dark chuckle causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies.

Jake let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down but his hands never letting go. He craned his neck back to see his roommate staring right at you, ignoring his presence as a whole.

Jake shrugged his shoulders as Jay threw the first-aid kit on his neat desk scattering the stuff around in the process, “You wasted your time”

The door behind him closed with a click following after and you watched, realizing you were locked with the boys next door. “No you’re just impatient and couldn’t wait your turn” Jay sneered as he strutted towards you and Jake, the bubbling anger in him filled the room

You looked between the two and Jay took notice of your wavering eyes between them, his eyes trailed down and saw when you squished your legs tightly together under his gaze.

The feel of anger melted away as he stepped closer, placing his hands on his knees as he leveled at your head. He chuckled while his thumb reached out and softly stroked your cheek. “Or maybe you’re the impatient one” He grinned and you looked at him like an animal caught in headlights

His eyes bore into you, his side smirk only grew wider when you looked away from him. That was the answer he needed. He patted his roommate’s shoulder until he looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Jay tilted his head, pointing towards the lonely chair in his room far from the bed. Jake aggressively shook his head, not wanting to give up what he already started but Jay gripped his shoulder tighter and repeated the motion. “Move. A deal is a deal”

The reminder trickled the built-up sweat down the back of your neck. A moment of silence for the lost session before Jake grumbled under his breath, his hands loosening on your waist before pushing Jay’s hand off with an annoyed huff.

You watched Jake hunched over to the chair, kicking the chair in the process before sitting down with a loud deep sigh, folding his arms—the biceps and triceps peeking from underneath one another as he stared in front of you two.

Jay’s hand cupped your chin and pulled your head away from Jake’s direction onto him. “Let him wallow in his self pity for now. Right now, let’s focus on us genie” The name shouldn’t have let you hot and bothered the way it did but when Jay’s calloused hands cupped your face lifting it high up for him, all thoughts went out the window

Your eyes stared up at him and Jay felt a familiar carnal bloom inside of him. The crease at your cheek reappeared as he toppled his head down to capture your lips with his.

The initial shock melted away as your eyes fluttered closed again and you were enclasped in the moment with Jay. His hand held your jaw delicately, different from how you originally anticipated.

His lips moved with yours and you felt everything around you turn into nothing, even the other male sitting eyes burning into your existence.

Jay’s hand traced down to your neck, holding it firmly in his hold. Your hands gripped at his nape, your fingers tugging at the bottom hairs making him groan as he softly pushed you on his bed.

Your mind was dizzy, you could feel the twitch of his mouth, your lips would graze his damaged one. “Sorry” You managed to say through the kiss but Jay only smiled as he pressed his lips harder against yours hoping that it’d mold together as one

Letting out a squeak from your throat, you felt Jay’s hand drag up your side. The roughness contrasted Jake’s eagerness, whose leg bounced up and down as he watched the scene before him.

Jay’s lip melted with yourself that you could nearly taste the metallic taste on your taste bud when his tongue slipped past.

Your hand tangled with his hair, his hand roughly grabbing at your side as he hovered over your body.

Sinking into his mattress, you melted further into cloud 9. The lack of oxygen started to infiltrate your foggy brain, worsening it by the second, your mind screamed for a second of air while your body interpreted the kiss as your only need of oxygen.

Hearing your heavy shallow breaths Jay pulled away from the kiss and with hooded eyes, he took a glimpse towards you which stunned him. Your swollen lips begging for more, your closed eyes and hanging open mouth as you finally took in deep breaths to make up for the lack of it.

Before him was a scene he wanted to burn in his mind forever.

Feeling Jay pull away from you, you lazily opened your eyes to see him looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes making your insides churn.

Jay dipped his head down to the crevice of your neck and began planting soft kisses just like how Jake had done. You lifted your body off the bedding feeling his mouth messily leaving wet splotches on your neck. Your chest rumbled out with a satisfied held back moan.

“Let me- No Let Jakey over there hear how good I’m making you feel” The mention of the male made you turn to the side to see Jake with folded arms glaring at the two of you

You made eye contact with his strong one’s and saw the faintest smirk ghost his face as he slightly jerked his lips forward pointing to where you lay sprawled with Jay hovering over you—ushering you to pay attention to what’s in front of you.

“You’re shivering sweetheart” Jay pointed out feeling the goosebumps forming on your skin, he smirked before taking a nip at your neck causing your attention to come back to him

Jay’s kisses furthered down your neck until he reached the starting point of your shirt’s neckline. His eyes looked to yours, silenting asking for permission—waiting for the sign. You stared right at him as you softly nodded your head.

The smile he gave was different from the other’s he has given you, this being more genuine and softening. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, feeling the material against his touch before carefully hiking it up exposing your skin.

It felt like it was in slow motion. Jay’s eyes never trained off of yours, as you shivered once the cold air hit your skin and you could feel the warmth radiating off his hands grazing your skin. “I got you” He softly whispered just enough for you to hear noticing your shuddered

Your arms lifted up as Jay peeled the fabric off before throwing it behind him to be discarded.

Jake watched the shirt thrown his way and the sneak of a glance Jay took towards him, a prideful expression—gesture. His jaw clenched as he quickly unfolded his arms and the chair he was sitting in screeched from under him.

“Uh oh I think someone is growing impatient” Jay voice filled with a teasing tone as he saw how Jake walked over in strides

You lifted your head to see Jake standing next to the bed, “Can I help you?” Jay raised an eyebrow causing Jake to scowl before it instantly melting when he looked at you

He cleared his throat before tapping at Jay’s shoulder, “Time’s up” He told trying to make his tone firmer than usually which was followed by a stifled laugh from Jay who dropped his head for a moment at his roommates sternness

“Let’s see…” Jay caught your flickering eyes with a smile tilting his head just a little, “What do you think? Should we let him join us?”

You gulped down the lump in your throat. Through the fog of your mind, you registered your two good looking neighbors, the beat up boxer’s before you—both looking at you with a look that you couldn’t decipher but could feel in your bones.

You opened your mouth only to close it not trusting yourself to speak coherent sentences that wouldn’t end up with you tangled in the bed with the two of them but deep down it was what you wanted.

Only able to let out out a breathlessly tone as you roughly nodded your head , “Yes please”

Jake’s smile grew wildly as he hastily removed his shirt in one swift motion. Jay rolled his eyes at his friend before being shoved to the side by Jake who replaced his position. “What the-” You heard Jay off to the side but couldn’t focus on what else he said as your focus fell back onto Jake

You shifted in your spot at the sudden switch but Jake’s comforting smile eased your nerves. Hovering above you, his arm with his bulging bicep supporting him while his other hand stroked against your cheek.

Your eyes took in his face before trailing down body. The biceps are prominent with no distraction covering it, the cut of his triceps trailing down, his collar bone sticking out that your hand itches to grab at—more preferably gnaw at to keep you quiet and the outlining of his toned stomach that you’ve only seen through teasing manners in all its glory.

As you trailed further down, you see the raging bulge being restrained in his sweats. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the print against the material but forcibly keeping your mouth closed was easier said than done.

Your eyes looking back up to see Jake’s hungry filled ones, a smile that melted your heart almost instantaneously. “You’re the prettiest girl ever” He softly murmured before going to capture your lips in a chaste kiss

Receiving it just as easily as it was given to you, your hands tangled into his fluffy hair that you’ve waited so long to rake through. Yet, through the muffle of your ears, you were able to pick up off the shuffling beside you.

Jake sucked at your bottom lip, tugging at the flesh with a grin before pulling away with a heavy breath. He rested his forehead against yours before making his way down your cheek then to your jaw, “Picking up where I left off” He blabbed against your neck as he softly sucked on the skin

His hand softly pushed your head to the side as his mouth traveled all over your neck. Having your neck craned, you’re faced with Jay smirking as he watches you and Jake.

His shirt and sweats were long discarded somewhere as he adjusted himself on the bed in a sitting position, his arm extending from behind to hold himself up. He turned his head to the side in a tilt, a smirk never leaving his face.

Your mouth opened, ripping out a soft moan when you felt the cold air hit your now bare chest which was then warmed by a wet sensation wrapping around the hardening bud.

You gasped loudly as your hands immediately grasped Jake’s hair, throwing your head back further into the sheets.

A sound fell from Jake the moment he came into contact with your breast, his tongue gliding over the hardening bud as his other hand fondled with the other.

Your mind became filled with his touch and mouth on you, your back arched as you squealed when he tugged at it between his teeth.

He smirked when he heard you, “J-Jake” You softly moaned, tugging at his hair harder earning a faint strained noise to rupture out of him, your heart hammered against your chest that you were sure he could hear and feel it

“Keep saying my name out of that pretty mouth of yours” Jake hummed as he never once let the slightest attention slip through his finger. He pulled at your hardened nipple in a teasing manner, one harsher than the last before running his tongue over the burning sensation

You melted further into the mattress as everything around you disappeared as you felt like you were lifted into a cloud. “Jakey”You called out the nickname you heard Jay call him and he harshly tugged at your nipple making your squeal

He usually brushed off the nickname as nothing hearing it from others yet, hearing it from you only fueled his farther down a rabbit hole he could never escape from—which he would never want in the first place.

His mouth popped your saliva covered bud out of his mouth only to move down the middle in between the crevice before sinking further down.

Your pants were heavy as he inches closer to the growing wetness in between your legs. Unconsciously squishing your legs together before he could reach in between, his eyes flickered up pleading for permission while his fingers stopped toying with your waistband. “Getting shy on me now?” His tone dipped deeper into a hum making your body shiver

With the lack of response, his mouth tugged to the side and peeled his hands away as he began pulling away. The warmth that hovered over your bottom half was disappearing only to feel the burn inside of you that you quickly wrapped your legs around his shoulder causing a yelp to fall as you stopped him, roughly shaking your head.

His hands gripped at your hips to stabilize himself as your legs hooked around him. The giggle he let out surrounded the room and your ears as you felt his head level with your leaking entrance with a nod.

His fingers glided up the side of your leg, able to feel the warmth of his hand through your pants before he tugged at the waistband again, “Going to have to let me go for a second babe” He teased running his hand up and down your legs causing warmth to rise to your cheeks

“Sorry” You murmured, loosening your legs around him to feel the tips of his finger tug at your pants before slowly pulling them down

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, the tenderness and precision he had for simply peering the clothing off of you was warming.

Once it passed your ankles, Jake threw it off and immediately returned to his place right in between your thighs. Adjusting your legs over his shoulder easily exposing the damp undergarment sticking to your entrance. “So pretty” He blabbed, “Wet already”

Jake hummed as his eyes scanned over the wet patch on your panties, “Is this because of me?” He tilted his head to the side, having his shaky hand moved from your hips to swipe across the damp fabric making you squeal at the contact

Your head felt dizzy while your lower body moved with his finger, soaking in the feel, “Well?” He ripped his finger away once you weren’t responding

“Y-yes” You let out a broken cry, “It’s because of you”

Jake smirked to himself in pride, taking an obvious glance towards Jay who only let out a silent scoff at the ego growing in Jake. “Good” He hummed

He stuck out his tongue and took a long stride against your covered core, mixing his saliva with your soaked panties as his fingers teasing your folds just over the material. You jumped from the sudden touches as your hand flung to his hair, biting your lips as you held back the noise daring to fall

While being ignored long enough after being such a good friend, roommate and neighbor, Jay can no longer deny his own problem growing in size hearing your beautiful sounds.

Your eyes screwed shut, whines falling out as you let yourself feel Jake’s tongue protrude into your covered hole in a teasing manner to him sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves when his finger was at the brink of your entrance ready to slip in.

But, at the sudden lifting of your head, your eyes shot wide open to Jay placing your upper body to rest up against his while his arms came up from behind straddling over your bare skin.

The contact of flesh pressed up against your back with the sensation of Jake’s finger tugging your panties to the side to finally see your smeared covered pussy was consuming you whole.

Jay’s hand reached higher until finally landing on your chest, feeling it with his own hand after having to watch Jake do it first. Your body arched off his but he quickly dragged you back with a harsh pull. “Stay with me” He whispered into your ear leaving a shiver to run up your spine

One hand remained fondling with your breast fondling while the other traced up your neck, lifting your fallen head up, craning it to allow him to place his mouth messily on top of yours.

You hummed in satisfaction feeling how he kissed you, his hand holding the juncture between your neck and jaw firmly as he sucked on your bottom lip, the familiar taste of metallic hitting your tongue.

Yet, your mouth dropped in the kiss letting out a quiet gasp as you felt the intrusion of two fingers entering your hole. “Shit” Jake breathlessly pants watching how his two fingers disappeared inside of you

You whipped your head towards the male as he began pumping his fingers in a shallow thrust. Your hand landed to the side, gripping the sheets into a fist only for it to be replaced by Jay intertwining your hands.

With an agape mouth, the moans you’ve been trying to hold back slowly began to spill, feeling how Jake’s finger pushed deeper inside—curling up to feel your gummy walls surrounding him.

“He makes you feel good?” Jay lulled in your ear which you weakly nodded your head at, “Tell him how good he’s making you feel”

Your bottom lip shivered, “S-So good” You managed to get out feeling how he slipped until he was knuckles deep inside of you, “Jake” You called out his name as you threw your head back onto Jay’s shoulder

“So good Jake- Please”

Jake was too fascinated watching his fingers disappear that his name fell deaf on his ears. He watched how his dry fingers were now drenched in your arousal and he couldn’t miss out on anymore. He dipped his head close as he placed the first kiss against your entrance—elighting a soft moan from you.

Jake groaned the moment he tasted you on his taste buds. He pressed his face closer to you, his tongue gliding in between your folds “The absolute sweetest” He mumbled pulling at the bundle of nerves screaming for attention, his finger never faltering in pace

He sucked any essence that was slipping through his fingers, his tongue lathering itself all over you. His body felt so heavy and his mind too light, he lost himself.

Jay smirked, feeling you squirm against his chest, holding his hand tightly with the feel of his hands running over your breasts, softly playing with them as he ever so often twists your nipple, timing it when Jake tugs at your clit, to earn a louder squeak from you.

Your senses were heightened as they focused on their respective actions—perfectly in sync and coordinated with each other without having uttered a single word.

Jay gripped on your mound as he sloppily left kisses at the side of your face whilst Jake could feel you clenching around his finger when he intentionally shoved deeper.

The hot build up in your stomach was daring to snap, the rubbing mouth and hands on your body left your mind reeling.

“Look at what you’re doing to Jake” The mention of the man down below, you looked through heavy eyelids to see Jake’s tongue flickering as he matched his pace with his finger but you could see him softly rutting his hips against the mattress

At the sight, you could feel the fluttering shut of your hole around his fingers as the snap in your stomach erupted a loud moan, while your body shook from the ecstasy that washed over you, ”Shit” Jake breathlessly muttered seeing how along with you coming, there was another soaking stream coming out of you

Jake pulled out his finger quickly before rubbing at your folds roughly, wanting to earn more of your release out of you. You gasp at the stimulation as your body arches and slightly trashes but Jay hooked his arms at your waist keeping you in place.

Your pants were strained and heavy, “J-Ja… Please” You cried out until Jake finally pulled his hand away without dipping one finger into your hole

Gasping loudly, soft whimpers falling from your mouth, allowing your body to rest against Jay. “Now that was…” Jay softly said, pulling his arms away from your heaving body

“Fucking hot” Jake finished his sentence as he admired his soaked covered hand

You turned your head away in embarrassment but Jay quickly coddled you, “Hey, hey, don’t” Placing soft kisses against your head, your tensed body soon relaxed melting into the praise, “That was amazing. You did amazing”

You looked over to Jake who looked from his hand over to you. Your glistening eyes, your mouth hanging slightly open with your chest on full display rising with each shallow breath.

He dipped his hand flat onto the mattress, inching his head closer to your to catch your lips in a chaste chase. Cringing at the taste at first and the smearing of your arousal at the lower half of his face landing on yours. He held your chin, sucking at the lower bottom of your lip in need as you could feel Jay’s hand traveling down your body.

Feeling like you were on the fire, your blood ran cold when you felt the soft fingers inching closer until it reached the warming bundle of nerves and slid the tip of a single finger down the center of your drenched hole. You moaned against Jake’s mouth who gleamed hearing your noises reappearing.

Immediately you trashed when you felt Jay’s finger teasing your entrance, “Sensitive?” His seductive tone wished into your ear, infiltrating your mind with ease

A deep hum rumbled out of his chest as he slipped just the tip of his finger back in. You softly bit at Jake’s bottom lip letting a hiss fall from him.

But as Jay’s finger slipped further in, he messily planted kisses at your head and Jake’s mouth moved from your mouth to the side of your jaw down to your.

Jay ripped his hand away and Jake detached his mouth from your skin, a silent coordinated moment, leaving your body all hot and bothered. Your eyes wearily darted between them.

Jake and Jay noticed your confused gaze as they snuck a look to each other—Both seeing the familiar craze that only shows when they’re in the rink appear in each other now. “I still need to be taken care of” Jay’s voice dropped in tone and you churned your head back catching a glimpse of his gaze turning your insides to mush

“Will you take care of me? Sweetheart” His tone slurred soaking into you

You licked your lips before folding them and letting them go in a shaky breath, “Yeah” Your voice barely above a whisper as you softly nodded

“Atta�� girl” Jay chuckled softly tapping at your side

He shifted positions until you were sprawled back on his bed, looking up to the very neighbors you couldn’t stand their inability to stay quiet but at this moment, they didn’t seem that bad—not in the slightest.

Your heartbeat patterned against your chest harshly, anticipation growing by the second when suddenly a hand landed at your side, tapping at it, “Flip over” Jake’s voice rang through the room and not wanting to test either of the patience unable to know if it would be the end just like that

You gulped down the lump before planting your body up on your elbows, turning around but just when you were going to lay your front to the mattress, a hand stopped you, ”On all fours for us” You heard Jay’s voice from behind and a chill ran up your spine from the lack of sight of either of them

An inevitable shudder of your breath left you as you landed on your hands and knees, a burn resting upon your cheeks at the more revealing position.

Your neighbors remained silent, hearing each breath you took alerting them of the nerves growing in you. Taking a look at each other, unspeakable words understood, Jay switched positions with Jake.

Your eyes looked from the bed below you to see Jake’s warming smiling greeting you, “Hi” He giggled

Noticing how the tension in your body silently lifted, you felt roaming hands threading from your back to your hips until you felt a cup at your core making you gasp.

Shooting a look behind your shoulder harshly tugging at your mouth. Jay pulled at your cheek, baring the sight before him greater to see the soaked covered crevice glistening before his eyes.

He licked his lips in anticipation, tasting the hint of whatever was on it mixing together on his tongue.

Your head was turned back staring at Jake’s toned stomach, the lines dipping with each drop and your eyes fell further down to the bulge now in front of you.

You gulped feeling your hole subconsciously fluttering around nothing, having Jay smirk noticing your pulsating entrance.

Your eyes trained at Jake’s hardened cock making his heart hammer out of his chest that he swore you could hear it. Taking a look behind you to his roommate noticing his actions, he quickly shifted his eyes back onto you, creasing your head.

Right when you were going to look up to Jake, you suddenly felt the tease of your folds being pushed apart by a wet sensation. The obscene sound of the small taps against your dripping pussy made you shiver as Jay’s tip rubbed over your smeared entrance, mixing the already wet arousal everywhere.

“Jay” You whined at his tease and he sent a light slap onto your side

“What’s wrong? Still being impatient?” He hummed, his hand soothing the tingling sensation before slapping the same spot again, “What do you want sweetheart?”

Knowing what Jay was searching for, you harshly tugged at your mouth, “P-please…” Your voice too low to hear anything

“What was that?”

“Please fuck me”

Unable to see him, you were going to peer over your shoulder when the stretch at your entrance caught you off guard. You loudly gasped as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white from your hold while your body almost fell foward but was stopped by Jake.

Jay slowly eased himself into you, holding himself back from filling you up in one thrust, a hiss leaving his mouth feeling how you clenched around him. “Fuck” He stroked your hips harshly, “So good- Taking me so fucking good” His voice cracked each inch he pulled your walls apart, sinking and relishing in the tight feel around him

“J-Jay” Your voice squeaked as the stretched that quickly began to swift into a pleasurable feel, your mind too preoccupied when you suddenly felt a poke to your cheek

Your gaze shifted to see the raging tip, you looked up to see Jake sneering a cheesy smile towards you, no words were exchanged and yet, you opened your mouth wide as you looked up at him.

His expression twitched as the smile grew, “Who knew” Jake groaned more so for him rather than for you under his breath before grazing his leaking tip on your unblemished lips

Stroking the side of your face, making all around fall to silence. Maintaining eye contact with you, Jake could feel the throbbing at hand. Passing the warmth of your lips, you engulfed the tip in, welcoming the unwavering taste on your tongue.

Jake groaned, feeling the warmth around his cock lighting his whole body in fire.

At a harsh thrust jolting your body forward, you unintentionally gagged around Jake at the sudden harsh push deep inside of you.

Trying to even out your breathing in any way you can, you suddenly felt the drag of Jay’s cock slipping out of you in a slow manner before easing himself back in where he left.

Still not used to the stretched, you whined making the vibration send straight through Jake’s fuzzy mind and down the rushing blood to his twitching self resting heavy in your mouth.

Jay’s thrust started off slow and rhyminc, low groans leaving as he tried to keep himself rational to allow you to somewhat get adjusted to his size.

Your full mouth moved when Jay suddenly sent a harsh thrust forward as his rationality began to fade away, landing you further down Jake’s resting heft, who let out a stuffed grunt at the movements, having to remind himself to not release in your mouth so quickly.

Tears brimmed at your eyes, Jake’s roughed hands, the calloused feel of them rubbed against your cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. “Doin’ so good for us babe… You can do it” His words of encouragement raised your mind higher into the cloud of pleasure

You meekly nodded your head causing the movement to rupture around Jake having him let out a breathless moan when your tongue strung over, you mouth tightly wrapped around, sucking at what you can without choking.

Yet, you froze closing your eyes tightly shut when you felt the drag of emptiness before being filled again, “S-Shit” You managed to hear Jay through your ringing ears

Your shaky freehand managed to grasp the base that wasn’t in your mouth and stroke Jake focusing on your tongue swirling around tasting the faint precum that’s been leaking out.

Jay’s hand rested at your hips, the shallow thrust growing deeper after each one, his once even breathing shifted into a heavier one as he focused on the way you welcomed him in and allowed him to slip out with ease.

“Such a fucking sweetheart, taking me so good” He hissed, “Bet you were waiting for this” His finger pinched at your side making you muffle out a yelp

“C’mon tell us you’ve been waiting for this” Jay’s resting hand semt a slap towards your hips rippling out the sound followed by your huffed whine

“Y-yes” You weakly wailed trying to speak as clear as possible for them to hear

“Look at you trying to talk with your mouth full” Jay sneered seeing how you attempted to take more of Jake in your mouth

Jake’s hand rested at the back of your head helping you meet his weak thrust to push you further down his length. Your eyes tracked upwards to see Jake’s thrown head to the side, hooded eyes staring right at you.

He let out a smile watching how you looked with your lips wrapped around him. He stroked your head softly, “Pretty girl next door couldn’t wait to get fucked by us, isn’t that right babe?” He raised an eyebrow causing you whine

Jay’s pace soon grew faster, his hips slamming against you as his fingers dig at your sides for support that the form of idents could be felt. With how you clenched around his cock, taking more than the last time made his heart soar.

“Such a nasty girl but, you’re our nasty girl, aren’t ya?” Jay darkly chuckled sending a harsh thrust that made you swallow Jake whole

The moment that he hit the back of your, he groaned loudly, his fingers wrinkling as he could feel your throat contracting around the new feel of him deeper. “Fuck” Jake loudly grunted followed by your gagging sounds

The feel of Jay’s tip everything inside of you was a pleasurable feel you never felt before to feeling Jake hitting the back of your throat, your senses heightened as your mind faded into a fog of just your two neighbors.

“J-Ja-“ Your muffled voice was barely audible causing each of them to let out a laugh, the jolts of your body kept moving forward from Jay’s cock hitting your insides, molding you just for him

Jake softly drew himself back from your mouth, a wash of breath air filling your lungs making you suck in the deep breath before he bucked his hips back in and out, filling your mouth again of him, “You’re taking him so good, look at you”

You clamped around Jay’slength, “Fuck, you like getting praised?” He commented in a deep groan, “Like knowing you’re being such a good girl for us?”

You weakly nodded your head, unable to respond but wanting to show some type of response and that fueled Jay’s heart—seeing your efforts to get something out for him. He rubbed his hand over your lower back and hips, his touch leaving fire trails on your skin the moment of contact.

Spit accumulated at the side of your mouth, dripping down in its wake down your chin as Jake softly slammed his hips, his cock going back down your throat as your hands grabbed whatever it could to keep you hoisted up.

Your gargle sounds filled the room with the faint sounds of Jay meeting you and the inevitable moans falling from your stuffed mouth.

Jay snapped his hips faster, his eyes trained on how all of him disappeared inside of you perfectly as Jake slowly chased after your mouth when he pulled away, only for you to grasp on him and lick his hard on from the base all the way to the top—sucking whatever he was giving you.

You could feel how Jay’s thrust was growing frantic and irregular, the muffled moans leaving your mouth only grew louder the harder he slammed his hips against yours which only fueled their growing desire further.

“Come all over him” Jake whispered, encouraging you and somehow you managed to pick it up through the noises bouncing off the wall and your mind was set

Jake’s cock was throbbing in your throat, the closing and opening of each sound you released mixed with a gagging noise made him draw closer to tie daring to snap in his stomach.

He rutted his hips faster feeling the familiar coil build up in his stomach. “You’ll take it right? What I give you, right babe?” Jake’s voice squeaked higher as his stomach began to tighten

Jay’s hand thread over your back to your waist, wrapping his arm around as he slammed his hips harder against yours, his fingers pressed over your stomach and pushed deep into it, “Nasty girl is going to take what we give her” He grumbled it as a statement rather than a question and you knew that you wouldn't have to try—you would

Jake’s groans turned into small pants as he stilled his hips and let out a gruntled whine as the warm liquid filled your mouth and you jerked, feeling how it slicked past your throat. “So good-So fucking good”

Yet, Jay continued to ram his hips causing your mouth to vibrate around Jake having him hiss at the simulation still dragging out through his high, “H-Hurry up Jay” Jake sneered as he tried to pull away from your mouth, the shaking of his body worsening if he stays any longer

Yet, he stopped when you weakly wrapped your hand around his shaft that he could only pull away halfway. You pumped what wasn’t in your mouth, your tongue licking his tip clean seeking in the air that you could before taking a big gulp to get rid of the remnants of Jake’s cum in your mouth.

Your mouth fell open as the obscene sounds lolled off your tongue with Jay’s cock filling your insides with each trust and through it all, Jake caught a glimpse of the inside of your cleaned mouth—with the exception of a few white strings lingering behind.

“F-Fuck” His voice cracked when you sucked his tip cleaned regardless of his softening cock at hand, “P-please” Jake pleaded when you took him back in your slacked mouths

Muffled through the sounds, Jay’s harsh thrust after another soon came to a stop. “S-Sweet girl, such a good damn girl” One harsh thrust sent before another as he bottomed himself forcing himself as deep as humanly possible as he marked up your once velvet walls full of him in a loud groan—bliss taking over.

You moaned at the sudden warm fillment flowing in your inside as you let go of Jake with a loud pop, landing face first—your head on the mattress while your body shivered from Jay filling you up.

Your hands weakly crumbled the sheets beneath you as pitiful whines rumbled out of your chest.

Jay remained inside of you, stuffing you full of him as his calloused bruised hands roaming all around your back, “Did so good. So fucking proud of you-Took the both of us too damn good” His voice was warm that you could feel it in your body but wasn’t able to properly comprehend in your mind

“Sweetheart?” He softly called out and you turned your head to the to side catching a glimpse of the dismantled Jay behind you

The few hairs stuck to his forehead, the bruised face glistening in sweat as it trickled down his neck and past his collarbone to stop at his built chest.

You fluttered around Jay making his eyes whip to where he and you were still attached. He watched the few remnants of his release inside of you managed to escape where it could, his heart raced at the scene.

The feel of drag from his cock out of you made you whine at the sudden emptiness and stretch leaving you as Jay watched at how your hole flattered around nothing before the few spurts of his cum leaked out, his eyes widened realizing that it couldn’t stop at just that—after just one mere round.

Jake shushed your heaving self, his hand carefully stroked your head. Turning your head, you see Jake’s warm smile, his red cut cheek still catching your gaze and his side bruised lip.

Your eyes flickered closed as he dipped down capturing your mouth with his and his face slightly scrunched at the faint taste of him on your lips.

You melted in the plush of his lips meeting yours but you gasped when you felt fingers glide across your messy folds, gathering whatever was smeared around it and pushing it back inside of your entrance—where it’s meant to be, “Sticky” Jay whispered in a daze like haze as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you

Jake gave one longer peck as he softly gripped your face, a hum in his chest erupting out before he pulled away. “Can you go one more?” He asked past his swollen lips

Your heart was hammering out of your chest, your body was trying to catch up from the previous orgasms.

And yet, you nodded your head causing a bloom over his chest before he excitedly captured your lips in a quick peck. “So good for me-For us. Promise it’ll feel good. Just let us take care of you” Jake mumbled before giving a smile and letting go of your face to shoot a harsh glare towards Jay—different from how he looked at you

His roommate didn’t flinch for a second, already having been looking at him with a smirk resting on his face. Jay curled his fingers inside of you causing you to hiss loudly because even if he had his time—he’d enjoy it if you were still acknowledging him.

“You heard him sweetheart, let us take care of you” Jay planted a wet kiss on your bare back, his eyes falling into a hooded look that made your tired insides twist

Your body was turned over, your back meeting the soft mattress and a satisfied hum slipped past your lips at the stern support lifting your body.

Through your half-lidded eyes, you looked up to see Jay and Jake looking at you, a glistening look in each of their eyes that screamed something ineligible to you—fueled by a desire to devour you whole.

“Just focus on us. No need to think of anything else in that pretty head of yours”

✮⋆˙

Your face scrunched hearing the loud banging rupturing in the distance. Shifting in the sheets, you buried your head deeper into the warmth that engulfed you, believing if you ignored it long enough then it'll seize to exist.

When your eyes and mind began to fade back into slumber, the warmth at your side disappeared with the exception of a feathering touch ghosting your head with an inaudible whisper before disappearing.

Dazedly opening your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peeking inside, you looked next to you, noticing the once occupied space now empty with a dip in the mattress of who once laid there.

Your sore body is now catching up to your mind when you try to move with the addition of a weight holding you down and forcing you closer to the body behind you as the head nuzzles deeply into your back, holding you close.

You looked down to see the bruised red skin resting at the knuckles, the faint scratches on them wrapped around your waist.

However, at the sound of the door carefully opening, you lifted your head up to Jake’s loose clothing hanging onto his body, his disheveled messy hair, and his heavy eyes shining in the sunlight.

“Who was at the door?” Your voice low and strained as you rubbed your eyes, trying to slip out of Jay’s bear like hug at your waist who was yet to wake up

Jake smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him just to lean up against it with a sigh before pushing himself off, his steps slow and nearing until his head was leveled with yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed his finger over his tugging upwards lips.

The hands wrapped at your waist threaded higher nearing your chest in a slower manner, Jay rested his head onto your shoulder. Jake sank to his knees, his hands moving down to your knees before having pry them open.

“Neighbor. Told us to keep the noise down next time”

——

a special dedication and tag to @hearts4hee, for you hon<3

3K notes · View notes

lovieku · 1 month ago

Text

TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

“Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

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softestbabydoll · 2 months ago

Text

thinking about constructionworker!toji who's at your house, working on renovations for the first story flooring since he’s gotten hired by your father. though he had little to no knowledge about how to actually build anything, the money was good so he took the opportunity.

you're woken up by the sound of a drill and hammers banging nails into the walls. groggily, you raise yourself to sit up in your bed, rubbing your sore, puffy eyes as the piercing sound of tools makes your ears ring loudly from all of the noise. why the hell would they come so early to work on the house?

slamming your head back against your pillow, you pick your other pillow up and press it against your ear, trying to drown out some of the noise coming from downstairs, but it's no use.

instead, you roll of bed and slip on your silk robe, wearing nothing beneath it. you’re gonna give whoever’s making all the noise a piece of your mind. walking out of your bedroom and up to the railing of your upstairs balcony, you see a team of men in yellow hats and orange vest doing random handiwork as you look down. you spot the one black haired man placing wood tiles onto the floor, and doing a horrifc job at it—toji.

"do any of you know what time it is???" you yell over the noise of the men working, your voice is barely audible over the noise but some of them turn their heads toward you at the sound of your voice before turning their attention back to their work. toji lifts his head to see you standing above him, your arms folded across your chest with a scowl on your face. your disapproval is obvious which makes him chuckle.

"i can't hear you!" he yells back at you, waving you to come downstairs. "maybe you should come down here so we can talk!" you roll your eyes and sigh at his request, walking to the staircase to step onto the first stair as you descend down. you approach toji as you stand there above him, looking down at him as he raises his head, the corner of his scared lips curling up into a smirk as his green eyes meet your piercing stare.

"why so cold, little lady? i'm just doin' my job." he says, looking back down at the wooden tiles as he places them on the floor. it's not like you knew the first thing about construction, but you could tell his technique would definitely cause more issues with the floor than it already has. "8:00 o'clock in the morning is a perfect time to come over and do construction.” you barked, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you look down at your imaginary watch on your bare wrist.

toji stands up from his haunches, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a gloved hand as if he's actually done anything worth sweating over. he places his hand on his hip as he looks over at you, his towering height looms over you which makes the scowl you have on your face even cuter. "your dad's out so i assumed the house was empty, let me apologize for waking you up." his voice is genuine, but you don’t catch it because you’re eyeing him up and down.

he's clad in a white thank top, speckled by dust and dirt from hours spent working on the floor. his tools hung from a worn, brown belt strap slung low around his beige work pants. maybe toji stood out to you the most because he's the only one half dressed for construction—not that you were complaining.

each time he raised his tank to wipe his face, the sharp cut of his abs and the trail of dark hair leading below his waistband became impossible to ignore. your eyes shamefully locked into the utter perfection he didn't bother hiding.

"w-well you see that i'm still here..." you whisper, your eyes glued to toji's frame as he tugs his tank back down, muscles rippling through the fabric. he runs a hand through his slick hair, his sharp eye catching the way you're eyeing him.

"you're staring." he says, his voice low and edged with amusement.

his voice breaks you out of your trance, and your eyes snap back to his face. heat crawls up your neck as you realize your expression had softened while you were ogling at the man's chest, so you scowl at him again. "whatever," you snap, quickly looking off to the side.

toji pivots on his heel to stand in your line of sight, forcing you to crane your head up at him to meet his gaze. his broad frame towers over you, casting a shadow over your face, and you swear his smirk grew wider as your breath catches in your throat.

"are you going to straighten up," he murmurs, his voice dropping, “or do i need to fuck that attitude out of you?"

before you know it, you're bent over on your bathroom countertop, legs trembling as your cunt gushes around toji's cock, slick dripping out in thick strings down your thighs. toji's hips snap against your ass with brutal precision, each trust feels like his dick is pushing into your stomach. "look at you," he growls, his voice dripping with mockery as he roughly cups your face with a large hand as he grips your slack jaw, forcing you to look up into the bathroom mirror at your face "all it takes is a good fuckin' to shut that dumbass mouth of yours, huh?"

your vision blurs as you keep staring at yourself—your hair sprawled out over your head, tears streaking your flushed cheeks and your nose red from crying—your lips are parted, trembling from the endless stream of broken moans and breathless gasps. toji leans in, his scared lips brushing the shell of your ear as his free hand slides up your belly and grabs your tits, rolling your nipple between his calloused fingers. "c'monnn, keep watchin', he sneers, his voice low and taunting. "see what you look like getting your slutty little pussy stretched out."

the guttural slap of skin fills the room, being drowned out by the muffled noises of the workers outside. the very sound you were cursing earlier now served as a shield for your shame, you thanked whatever force or luck was keeping the men oblivious—to the fact you're being fucked silly by a stranger in your own house before you even got a chance to eat breakfast, and toji's absence. though it's not enough to conceal the shameful squelch of your pussy taking him in so deep. you bite down on your lip, trying to stifle the soft whimpers spilling from your throat, but toji doesn't let up.

his fingers curl into the plush of your hips, his nails digging deeply into your skin, dragging you back to meet his trust. the tip of his cock kissing your sensitive and bruised cervix that has your legs shaking uncontrollably.

"you're so fuckin' tight," he groans, his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into you as your entrance flutters around his thick shaft. "shit, you're squeezin' me like you're beggin' me to fill you up." he lets out a low laugh, teeth scraping against the side of your neck before biting down hard enough to leave a mark. the sting makes you cry out, your walls clamping down on him like a vice. "oh, you like that, huh? filthy little thing—this the kinda shit you've been waitin' for?"

you can barely breathe, your vision blurring as tears keep spilling over. the pressure builds unbearably fast, heat pooling low in your stomach. "i-i…fuck, i can't," you gasp, shaking your head as the intensity of toji’s fast thrust overwhelm you.

"you can, and you will," toji growls, his hand snaking down to your clit, rough fingers circling the sensitive nub with just enough pressure to send you hurtling toward the edge. "ain't lettin' you off that easy."

your knees buckle, but he keeps you upright, his cock drilling into you mercilessly as you fall apart around him. the lewd squelch of your release gushes around his length, soaking his thighs and the counter beneath you. "shit, look at this mess," he mutters, gripping your ass with one hand to spread you open, his thrusts growing sloppier as he chases his own high.

"since your squirtin' on my dick—fuckkkk...—maybe your daddy doesn't have to pay me. he'd be horrified enough to know his daughter's got off on my dick." toji goans deeply into your ear as your pussy squirts out the rest of your cum, your slick coating his shaft as it bubbles in a ring around the base of his cock. your head dips to the side before toji roughly grabs your jaw again.

"keep that fuckin' pretty mouth open," he snarls, tilting your head toward the mirror again. "gonna make you watch when I fill this pussy up. that's what you want, isn't it? my cock buried so deep you feel me for days?"

you let out a loud, helpless whimper at the mere mention of toji cumming...inside of you? you'd really be carrying a stranger's baby without an ounce of shame, and the idea of him filling you up right now doesn't sound to bad, especially when his cock is spitting you open so good, fucking you so deep and hard you can hardly form a coherent sentence.

"talk to me, girl." toji growls, his voice sharp and commanding as his trust grow more punishing. the heavy slap of his swollen balls against your soaked pussy echo in the room, their weight tightening as his cock twitches inside of you.

"y-yesss, daddy—aaahh—fuck, i-i want your seed...!" your trembling words slip through your mouth. toji groans out as he feels your walls clamping down onto him tighter and tighter, milking him harder as he struggles to hold himself back.

toji's hand comes down hard on your ass, slapping the fat of your cheeks as he grips your ass, spreading you open wider so you can take him even deeper. "mmm, that's what i wanna hear." his pace turns sloppier than before, each pump of his dick pulls another nasty squelch from your soaked cunt. "gonna pump ya so full my cums' gonna be dripping outta ya for days."

your head lolls forward, lips parted in a daze. but toji's grip doesn't let up, you feel him wrapping both of his strong arms around your waist to keep you in place, fucking your vaccum of a pussy in long, drawn out strokes as he cums deeply inside of you. your walls clamp down on him violently, spasming around his pulsing cock, milking every last drop of his cum. he stays buried inside, groaning as his cock twitches, warmth spilling deep into your womb.

"shit, you're squeezing me dry." he groans, his cock pulsating violently inside of you as your body jolts in his arms. you can feel each squirt of his seed spilling out from his fat tip, his heavy chest vibrates against you as his lets out another throaty groan. "bet this load's gonna be leaking out of you for hours, isn't it?" you give him a shy nod, your head barely moving against his chest, your body too spent to do anything else.

he smirks, feeling the slight motion. one of his hands snakes down to your ass as he kneads it possessively. toji presses his nose against your hair, inhaling your sweet scent deeply as his cock gives you another lazy throb inside of your sensitive slit. "greedy little thing," he groans as he slowly pulls out, a lewd squelch fills the room as his thick cum begins to leak out of your tiny hole.

his hand gives your ass a sharp slap, making you wince as you pussy tightens from the sudden movement, pushing more of toji's cum out as it drips down your thighs. "now go take a shower," he demands, pulling his pants back up without cleaning your juices off of his dick.

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staysdelulus · 1 month ago

Text

Bang Chan - Pajamas

SKZ Bang Chan x Female 9th Member Reader

a/n: inspired by SKZ-Code; didn't know what to call this, exactly, so...

ASKS ARE OPEN

Summary: After getting your pajamas chosen and sleeping in the same room and bed with Chan, you find yourself confronting him about his behavior before finally fucking it out.

Warnings: smut, pinv, oral (both receiving), mentions of fingering, etc.

WC: ~2k

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out from behind you, the others giggling as you sigh, contemplating your choices. You honestly didn’t know what to choose. As more and more members continued to make their choices, the boys had gotten even more ideas.

And then there was Felix. Lee Know had switched his top despite his choice, essentially choosing his entire outfit. Pray that they would spare you the embarrassment, being the youngest and the only female in the group. “A.”

“A or B?” Chan’s voice rings out again after another bout of giggling. Unable to help yourself, you laugh as well before speaking. “B.”

Last but not least, the accessories come. “B.”

When you turn to take a look at your outfit, your eyes widen. There were the tight short shorts you had brought, and a shirt with the heart shaped cut on the back (after Felix cut his shirt up, some of the other members had followed), and the cute pigtail headbands with the shorter hair.

After another game of chance, resulting with Bang Chan and Hyunjin switching their outfits, you make your way to change. Slowly, the members come out one by one. You’re last.

The members, like always, are loud, laughing and cheering as you stroll in, grinning in your short shorts, back exposed, your bra strap cutting right across from it. As the members continue the fun, you inevitably get 8th place after choosing a bad time for the next challenge.

When the time to pick the rooms come, you and Chan, who was last, are stuck together. Cheeks flushing slightly, everyone heads to their rooms, and you find yourself following Chan quietly. He wasn’t close with you, not as much as the others, anyway. A small part of you feared he hated you, but you knew Chan wasn’t like that.

If you respect me, I respect you. Those words ring in your head, and you take a deep breath, reassuring yourself before Chan suddenly speaks. “You can shower first, I’ll wait out here.”

You swear he sounded annoyed. Nodding quickly, you make your way to the bathroom, grabbing your towel on the way before hopping into the shower. As soon as you’re done, Chan slips into the bathroom, taking his shower. When he returns, he slips into bed, muttering a goodnight before turning away.

You make your way to brush your teeth, washing your face before returning to the bed and crawling into bed beside him. You can tell he’s awake by his tense shoulders, his body too tight to be relaxed.

“Chan?” you whisper softly. He grunts, turning to face you, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yes?” his voice is flat. Not mean, but still… it hurts a bit.

“I… nevermind.” You turn away quickly, shrinking into yourself, holding back tears. You didn’t know what it was that made you want to cry. Maybe it was the lack of communication between the both of you. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded each time he talked to you - flat, slightly sharp, and dry.

An awkward silence falls upon the room, before you feel Chan shifting closer to you. And then… His arm wraps around you, chest against your bare back, his voice quiet. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your voice small, wavering slightly. Chan takes a deep breath, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble again. He pulls you slightly, turning you around to face him, his voice quiet.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly. “Just got… something in my eyes.”

“You’re bad at lying,” Chan responds. “Talk to me.”

“How?” the word slips out before you can stop it. Chan’s brow raises, his eyes confused before he speaks quietly. “What do you mean?”

This was it. This was your chance. And so, you take it. “Don’t you… dislike me?”

You continue, your voice undeniably vulnerable. “I just… everytime we’re alone it doesn’t feel the same as with the others. Not in a bad way, exactly, but… you know. You’re always snappy and- and-”

Your voice cracks, and Chan’s eyes soften the most they ever had in your presence. He gently strokes your cheek, his voice quiet. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. I just…”

He bites his lower lip, his eyes trailing all over your face, forehead pressing against you. You take a deep breath, your eyes wide as his nose brushes yours. “Chan, what are you doing?”

He groans softly, his hand shifting to your waist, grip tight as he murmurs against your lip. “Everytime I’m with you, Y/n, I barely stop myself.”

“Stop yourself?” Fuck. You looked innocent. Too innocent, with your boba brown eyes, wide as they stared up at him. “Like… how- oh.”

Your breath hitches as his head moves down, nose inhaling your scent as it brushes your lips. You gasp softly, and his eyes meet yours, darkened with something. A need. “Y/n, can I?”

His lips are basically touching yours now. You nod.

He growls, groaning as he kisses you, tongue fighting through your pressed lips as he deepens it, body moving firmly against you as you whimper. Whimper. Even that sounded cute and hot at the same time.

His hand trails to your open back, fingers flicking the hook of your bra as you whine, eyes wide when he pulls away. He smirks, eyes half-closed as he gently tugs on it. “Can I?”

You manage to nod. Your clothes are off in a few seconds, laying naked on the bed. He follows suit, his cock throbbing as he kisses you again. When you manage to pull away, gasping for breath, you speak softly. “Chan, I’ve never…”

He pauses, his voice quiet. “Y/n, we don’t have to do this.”

As soon as he begins to pull away, you protest. “No, Chan, it’s fine, I just…”

He nods, understanding in his eyes as he kisses your shoulder softly. “Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. Promise?”

“I promise,” you answer, eyes wide. As his fingers trail down to your stomach, moving further, you grab his hand quickly. “Chan, wait.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs softly, his eyes soft. You gulp, cheeks flushing. “Can I… try to give you a blowjob?”

How could someone say that so innocently? He nods, helping you up and back down onto your knees, a pillow beneath you. You look up at him, his legs spread, cock ready for you to take as he murmurs softly. “Take it slow. Don’t overwhelm yourself, baby.”

Your legs nearly buckled at his endearment, but you nod quickly. “Okay.”

Gently, you press your hands on his shaft, using the precum forming already to stroke him, your lips puckering as you take a deep breath. He groans slightly at the feel of your warm breath fanning over him, before you take him in slowly.

Very slowly. That’s what you want, and that’s what he wants - for you to take it slow. His fingers thread through your hair as your lips wrap around him, gently pushing an inch in before pulling out, and going at it again. Finding a rhythm, you slowly take in more of him, hands touching him where you couldn’t reach.

He groans softly, eyes rolling back as he growls. “Fuck, Y/n, you feel so good.”

You whine, the vibrations making him neary come already as his hands tighten around your hair, doing his best not to just thrust himself into your mouth all the way. As you move quicker and quicker, whining softly, he groans again. “Y/n, I’m gonna come- fuck- get off if you don’t want me to-”

You just whimper, begging for it. He comes, ropes of it shooting into the back of your throat, even when you pull off, falling onto your skin as your wide eyes look up at him, jaws falling open to show him his whole spectacle in your mouth.

“Swallow for me?” he murmurs gently. You nod, lips clamping shut before swallowing it whole. “Good girl.”

You whimper at the praise, and he laughs immediately, catching on before easily grabbing you in his arms and throwing you onto the bed.

“Gonna eat you out,” Chan mutters, spreading your legs before he looks up at you from between the bed. “Let me know if you need to stop.”

His lips are on you in a flash, sucking at your clit and swiping at your folds, delving slightly into your entrance. He’s relentless, attacking you as you whine, hands falling to his hair as you gasp, his tongue and lips working wonders. You feel yourself about to come, and he taps on your thighs to let you know it’s okay. Falling apart, he licks every drop off of you, lips trailing up your skin, sucking and leaving hickeys, latching onto your breasts before bringing his lips to yours, the tastes of you both mixing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his fingers finding your folds as he teases you. “You’re so wet, baby… hm?”

Nodding, you lean up to kiss him, hands needing to do something as they wrap around his neck, holding onto him desperately, his hardened dick pressing against your inner thigh before he adjust himself against your entrance. “This okay?”

You nod, and he gently kisses you before slowly pushing himself in. He barely pushes himself in before pulling out, and pushing in again, slowly stretching you out as you whine, whimpering into his mouth as his hands find your waist, pulling you up slightly. As he shifts further into you, the furthest he can go, he pauses to let you adjust. As soon as you give him a nod, he’s moving. Slow, and then suddenly fast.

Lips leaving you, his head falls back, eyes hooded as he looks down at you, fucking you into oblivion as you cry out, whining softly. “Channie, Chan- p-please- it feels g-good-”

“Sh, sh, baby,” he murmurs, groaning softly as he pushes himself into you again, your tightness making his head spin. “Hold onto for me, hm? Good girl.”

Sniffling, you nod, whimpering as he continues to pound his way into you. As soon as he feels your core clenching around him, your hands wild as they ran over the bedsheets, whimpering, sobbing, and crying all at once, he pulls your hip up higher, your moans turning into straight sobs as you beg. “Channie, please, can’t hold on anymore, please, please please, Channie, please-”

“Good girl,” he grinds out, teeth clenched. “Fuck- come on, baby, Y/n, need you to come for me like the good girl you are.”

His words send you to heaven, your head throbbing as you scream, thankful the walls were soundproof, as you cry through your orgasm, him following through as he fucks through it, groaning softly. “Fuck, Y/n… you okay?”

You sniffle, eyes wide as you nod up at him, chest heaving. He gently sets you down on the bed, hands leaving your waist as he rushes to the bathroom, grabbing a warm cloth to clean you up. Kissing your forehead, he grabs the scattered clothes from the ground before speaking. “We should put these back on, although I’d love to see this view every day and night. The members will be roaming around in just a few hours.”

“Okay,” you murmur tiredly. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Get some sleep,” he says, pulling you into his arms. “Let’s talk about this - us - another time. When we get back.”

The next day, you’re blindfolded, sitting next to Lee Know and Jeongin, judging Felix and Han’s seaweed soup and… interesting egg mixture. As Chan brings the food up to your lips, he murmurs against your ears. “Swallow.”

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obbystars · 6 months ago

Text

When Light Fades

Synopsis: To strive for immortality has severe consequences.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / Reader is a subject for Urbanshade / Spoilers for Sebastian’s backstory / Experimental deaths + limbs being cut off / Takes place before the events of Pressure and leads up to it / Hadal Blacksite Lockdown event (Gunfire + death) / Cursing

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(Saw a few fics of a reader who was an experiment like Sebastian here, so I decided to cook up my own. Well- This was just gonna be an idea, but as I was making this, the update came out and I felt more inspired and decided to try my hand at how the lockdown went…kinda. I’m actually really proud of this one.)

A new subject had arrived a few days ago. They moved him right next to your cell, and he looked to be around your age. You spotted the number on his shirt. “Z-13.” He mostly minded his own business and you did as well, but it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to someone else. So finally, you tapped on the window that separated you to get his attention.

At first, he wasn’t interested in talking to you but he soon started to come around and (try to) listen to you. The window muffled your voice, and he couldn’t catch your name. You couldn’t either, so in your head, you only called him Z-13. Maybe he did the same with your own number.

It was strange. Despite the complications of communicating to each other properly, sitting by the window with him was oddly comforting. You wondered if he felt the same as he leaned on the window. To him, you were always smiling when your eyes met. It was like you weren’t bothered by the situation at all, or maybe it was a mask to hide your fear. Maybe it was meant to comfort him as you were here before him. Maybe you knew what was coming, and you wanted to tell him to not be afraid.

Z-13 sometimes spotted you in the corner of your cell with a saddened look on your face. Sometimes it looked like you were about to cry. He wondered what happened that led you here. Was it the same reason as him? Were you robbed of your future just like he was?

Eventually, you were taken out of your cell and Z-13 watched you leave but not without giving him a smile and waving to him. He slowly lifted up his hand and slightly waved as you left your cell with a few people in white lab coats who were accompanied by two guards.

You were gone for a few hours and Z-13 had almost fallen asleep until he heard a gentle knock. You still had that same smile as you looked at him. For a moment, he smiled too.

Two days after you were placed back into your cell, you began to lose your vision. It was getting dark and blurry. You couldn’t see Z-13’s face anymore. By the seventh day, your vision had completely faded. Despite this, you somehow knew when the lights were on and when they were off. It wasn’t because of the faint click you could hear sometimes, you just knew. You can even sense a few people nearby. Z-13 was among one of them and was the closest, meanwhile the others were a bit further away. You can sense one roaming the halls as well.

You can even feel Z-13’s gaze on you. You wondered if he gradually noticed your change.

You had a few more tests the week after, and by the third week, you lost all feeling in your arms and legs. You can’t move them, you can’t feel if someone had touched them, nothing. The researchers had to drag you up into a wheelchair every time they needed you for another test. They even had to feed you as you couldn’t do it yourself.

You can feel eyes on you once again. Was it Z-13 looking at you? You hear faint banging and a faint voice. He must’ve noticed how you haven’t moved at all for a few hours and was trying to get your attention. You turned your head towards the general direction of the noise, and the banging stopped. He says something, but you don’t quite understand. You wish you can hear him more clearly.

You sense a few people approaching and hear your cell door open. Their footsteps get louder and they discuss something amongst themselves. One of them is really close to you.

“Can you feel me here?” They would ask.

You shook your head.

“How about here?”

No.

“Here?”

Nothing.

You only feel cold. You feel so cold. Were you dying? Is this what death feels like?

The person stands up and steps away. You hear them exchange a few words. Another one approaches you.

“Can you see us?”

No. You suddenly hear a click.

“Can you see this light?”

You nodded. Nothing else was said as you hear them leave, though they remained outside your cell for a while before walking away. You faintly hear Z-13 call out your number, at least you think he did.

…What was your number again? Why can’t you remember…

One day, Z-13 watched them take your body and leave without much discussion. A few hours went by. Hours turned into days, then into weeks, then into months. You never returned. The room was left empty and the lights inside the cell had turned off. Soon enough, it was his turn. Seeing only a glimpse of what you had to endure, he was afraid. He didn’t know if you were in pain as you never showed it, but he saw how the light in your eyes faded.

Z-13 suffered the effects of the experiments done to him alone.

Ten long years had passed since then. Z-13’s body had reformed into a mix of an anglerfish, a blue whale, great white shark, sea snake, silver spinyfin, mantis shrimp, and an extra unknown creature. He got what Urbanshade wanted, but he was a deemed a failure because of what he became. He was able to breathe underwater just like they wanted, but he was just some thing, some monster they created. He could barely look at his own reflection.

He’d overhear a guardsman talking and an idea suddenly comes to him. Once he was in the place he needed to be, he did not hesitate to act on it. Ten long, torturous years… Maybe he could finally be free if all things go according to plan.

He pretended to fall under the effects of the anesthesia and remained still for a while until the time was right. He was left unguarded. He wakes up and cautiously checks around, spotting only one guardsman.

Swift, yet still painful. It was the least they deserved. He quickly checked their body for something, anything that could open the locked doors and finds a keycard. Perfect. He grinned, quietly “thanking” Urbanshade for increasing his rank to MR-P. He knows where those creatures are being kept in. He’ll hold onto the shotgun as well.

With the keycard, he opened and freed as many as he possibly could before the guardsmen eventually surround him. Chaos would spread around the facility rapidly as the creatures relentlessly slaughtered those who got too close, who were in the way, or who had angered them for what they did to them. For locking them up for their sick experiments.

It didn’t take long for Z-13 to be identified and tracked down by other guardsmen. Once he emerged from the water, there was already a squad ready to greet him. He growled, wanting a taste of sweet revenge. He was already aware he can pack a punch thanks to the mantis shrimp DNA.

He was suddenly hit with the flash of a bright light. He covered his eyes as he yelled in pain.

“Arghhh!! You-!!” He almost fell back but he quickly caught himself. He got a quick glimpse of the one responsible for that flash. Without hesitating, he aimed his gun to them and pulled the trigger, “Piece of shit!!”

The blood splattered onto the floor and walls. Before his eyes could fully readjust and could pull the trigger again, he felt a few bullets pierce through one of his arms and some in his shoulder. He dropped the shotgun as he fell into the water where he emerged from, immediately swimming to cover as they shot into the water. He was lucky enough they missed.

He cursed, gripping his bleeding arm. He’ll leave a trail like this. He needs to move. It was hard to understand what the guardsmen above were saying, but no doubt it was further orders to follow and hunt him down. Right, after the results of his experimentation, it was later refined into a much more desired state. Majority if not all of the guardsmen now can breathe underwater.

He huffs, making up his mind and swimming away to find a safer place and hopefully something to patch up his wounds. With his uninjured arm, he manages to punch a path through in an attempt to escape them.

He looks back occasionally and listens for anything coming before continuing to wherever the path is taking him. He finally finds an opening and cautiously emerges from the water. It was quiet, mostly. There’s some distant noises, but they don’t sound like guardsmen. Once confirming it was clear, he climbs out. He hisses again, gripping the arm that was shot.

One way would potentially lead to more company, while the other leads further into the facility. An area that’s been cleared out already, so that’s where he heads to. The halls were empty. He can’t hear anything close by. There has to be something he can use here, something they left behind. Searching through every drawer and every room he could get into, sometimes even knocking down a door, he found everything but a medical kit. He kept some of the things he found though, like another gun he found and a flashlight.

He comes across a hallway he never often passed by. There was one unlocked room and the door opens upon detecting his presence. Some of the lights were knocked out already, but the glow from the tube in the other side of the room was still on. It was another containment cell for a creature they captured, one he doesn’t remember. He crawled his way inside and the door shuts behind him. His anglerfish lure blinks on as he gently pulls on it.

On one of the desks, he spots a medical kit and wasted no time to disinfect and wrap up his wounds. Then he notices a document that was left on the desk beside it. His ear-fins twitched as he glanced to the tube then back to the document. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he opens it. His eyes widen once he sees a picture of you inside and some information.

Z-8. [First Name] [Last Name].

A subject used for an experiment to achieve immortality with the turritopsis dohrnii, otherwise known as the immortal jellyfish, as well as regenerative abilities of an octopus. Z-8 went through a series of “deaths” to study how the resurrection worked, but it turned out to be very similar to the actual jellyfish itself. They’d cut off limbs while the subject was still awake to study the regenerative abilities, and due to their poor execution, the subject had died to blood loss during some of those procedures. Still, the limbs grew back and immortality was achieved along with the ability to swim and breathe underwater, but the form the subject’s body took was undesirable and grotesque.

He looked up at the creature in the tube as he closed the document. This thing is you. A strange mix of a jellyfish and an octopus… But you’re still alive. Your loss of sight was due to your head forming into the hood of a jellyfish, almost appearing to be a veil, and the tentacles had stretched out from beneath it. Losing the feeling of your arms and legs were due to them forming into oral arms. Your torso leading up to your neck and stopping just above your mouth before it formed the hood.

He wants to get you out, but he’ll need to get you underwater. With the way your body had morphed, it wasn’t one to traverse easily on dry land. He’ll have to carry you as long as you don’t accidentally sting him. That’ll be a serious issue.

The card he has should have clearance to release you. Considering the part of the facility he’s in, there has to be a place big enough for you. One that leads outside too. Once the tube is drained and you descend to the bottom of the tube, it opens and he catches you before you fell onto the floor. The texture of your skin now made it a bit difficult to keep a grip on you but he managed to find a way that wouldn’t allow you to slip.

It doesn’t take too long for him to find a hall with its ceiling collapsed and its floor leaving a hole that leads into the floor below. That room was filled to the brim with water, and no doubt the next few rooms were to be as well. One of those rooms has to have broken off, leaving an opening to escape the facility. He carefully sets you down into the water but gets startled when you suddenly gasp and panic, wiggling out of his grasp. This caused him to drop you and splash into the water.

“H-Hey! Wait!!” He calls.

The waters settles for a bit until it bubbled and you reemerge from the water. You didn’t exactly look up at him until you sensed his light. This was the first time he gets to talk to you without a glass between you two. With how your body is now, however, he won’t be too surprised if you lost your voice as well.

“[Name], right?”

You nodded. Part of him was relieved your memory was still intact, so he continued with a smile. One he hoped you could sense in his voice.

“I’m sure you probably know me as “Z-13.” You and I were placed in cells beside each other?”

You nodded again.

“My name is Sebastian,”

Beneath the hood, he saw you smile, “H..Hello… Sebastian,”

You still had your voice.

I don’t think you guys know how happy I am with how this turned out. I don’t know why but I do really like this one.

I might end up using this concept for an OC if I’m being honest…

#🌑 // the moon provides #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian x reader #roblox sebastian solace #pressure sebastian #sebastian solace #roblox pressure #pressure #roblox

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auroralwriting · 6 months ago

Note

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #bau team #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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yanderenightmare · 5 months ago

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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, murder of nameless side characters

♡ fem reader

Thinking about that moment of violent change you’re forced to go through when your loving boyfriend becomes the terrifying man you don’t recognize—and how it completely eradicates the reality you’d grown so comfortable in, realizing it was all some perfectly orchestrated lie.

Rope burns on your wrists and ankles, tears streaking your chunky cheeks, and a poor soul’s blood on your pretty face belonging to some guy who’d gotten a little too close for comfort.

He’d cut him down like it was nothing.

The knife is held still by his side, a shining red murder weapon, dripping on the floor in the growing pond by his feet. He sighs heavily, casts his head back then looks behind him, beholding you through slim eyes, clicking his tongue, “Look what you made me do…”

He wouldn’t be the only one… several victims followed in his bloody path—witnesses who’d seen him struggle with you, kicking and screaming for all your worth, trying anything to get away. You were all too easily manhandled into the car, and could only watch behind the locked door, banging with bound fists on the glass while he gutted other passersby who’d threatened to call the police.

Driving off, he growls at you, first to shut up and then, “That was your fault—if only you’d been a good girl, none of those innocent people would have had to die.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel, wringing it in his stained grip—scarlet on ivory. “If you don’t want any more blood on your hands, you better sit pretty and not cause me any more trouble.”

You sob uncontrollably and inconsolably despite the threat—you can’t stop yourself—you can’t even comprehend his words. None of it makes any sense. You’d seen it all, and yet you can’t understand it—any of it. You’d watched the sweet guy you knew shed his skin and become a monster right before your eyes. It must be some bad dream, some terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.

But even if it is, you don’t want him touching you ever again. It makes you physically sick to your stomach to think you’d ever shared a bed with him—exchanged sweet nothings in the damp heat of each other. No, no, no, it’s not the same person—it can’t be. It can’t be true. What about the smiles you’d shared over breakfast, those times you’d surprised each other at lunch, all the dates, all the gifts, all the kisses, the future you’d talked about?

You’d fallen in love. But you’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.

He makes sure the door to the bedroom’s under lock and a key he stores somewhere you won’t find it. You squirm in your bonds on the bed when he approaches, shivering with whimpers under his hands, flinching at his touch while he unties you, then cringing as he angles your face to look at him—wanting to pry free, anything not to look into those changed eyes.

You hadn’t thought his build was imposing before, it hadn’t struck you as lethal. Naively, you’d thought him cozy—a big chest and a warm embrace he would scoop you up in, a safe place you could live. He’s cold now, menacing and filthy from his crimes—the body of a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. He’s so big it makes the room feel too small for the both of you. Claustrophobic.

He forces your gaze to him, and it’s all you see, those eyes, those unrecognizable eyes, with that look within you can’t understand, beholding you with burden.

“I still love you,” he states, though it angers him. “Even though you broke my heart. I still love you.”

You shake your head, or you try to, but it results in only tiny tremors caught in his hand where he keeps your chin, bloody fingers buried in your plump cheeks, squeezing so hard you wince.

“But it doesn’t come for free,” he seethes with an awful sneer. A type of grimace you’d never thought him capable of, overfilled with disdain. “My love is earned. And after all you did today, you’re in deep debt.”

He lets go of your face with a nasty shove, taking a mean grip on your shirt instead, using both fists to tear it down the middle. You yelp and cover yourself, but that only angers him further—causing him to grab your wrists and pin them to your side. You think you feel your joints popping.

“Test me, and I’ll hurt you,” he growls, his teeth bared at your ear where your face curls to hide itself in the pillow. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to make you sorry, then so be it. Be good, and I won’t have to take it that far.”

You lie as still as you can muster while he removes the rest—roughly as he goes—your bra, your skirt, your underwear. You only snivel and toil with the sheets in weak little fists, making your joints cramp up—feeling raw under him, at the mercy of those blood-dried hands.

You understand what he’s about to do, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on you before you hear the sharp ringing of his belt buckle being undone. You don’t look, but you don’t close your eyes either—the room is already dark enough that closing your eyes would make you feel too close to death. So, you keep your gaze fixed to the side, to the stale wall.

The bed bounces you as he shuffles. The urge to run bubbles within, but you know it wouldn’t be to your advantage. So your mind spins, thinking of other possibilities, growing ever more panicked when coming up empty.

He spits on your slit, then rears it with his spitefully erect shaft—pushing in without further prep. And you lose all sense of control.

Twisting at the attack, you scream again, “No! Stop—”

Your hands barely touch him before he’s answered the protest with a tightening grip on your neck. Unrelenting, your throat instantly snares, and you choke on any further outburst.

“I told you,” he chastises. “Why do you have to force my hand, huh?”

You gasp for any sliver worth of air, sipping through the cracks of his chokehold, but it’s very nearly sealed completely shut. You try lifting his grip with your own, both hands holding onto his wrist, wanting to pull loose but achieving nothing.

It’s so pitiful that he ignores the effort. Using his remaining hand to continue what he’d set out to do. Planting his tip at your unprepped entrance, he wasted no time before surging forward.

Your vision starts to spot, and your hands grow weak, barely hanging on.

“That’s good. Lie still and take it,” he groans—his lips on your cheek as he bullies through your dry walls, only aided by his spit. “And I might consider once’ enough.”

You don’t have a choice, feeling your body go numb. He picks your thigh up over his hip and drives deeper—starting a steady pace without letting go of your throat, squeezing the life out of you. Your hands finally drop, lying limp, and still, you feel it deep within—the thrusting as he beats your sorry cunt into an aching mess, then fills you up with awful warmth.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Naoya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago

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hi!! i saw your requests were open but i was wondering if you’d do a high maintenance reader w any of the marauders?? i just realized that i got my hair done, my eyelashes done, my nails done, and a facial all within a week and now im crying because i can’t afford my lifestyle, and also because i didn’t realize i was considered high maintenance until now :/

“We’re not having this conversation again, angel.” James says as he holds your hand on the walk back to the car.

You frown, catching a glimpse at your nails and smiling before frowning again. “But Jamie, it’s every month!”

He opens the back door for you, letting you slide in before he gets in himself.

Remus is driving while Sirius sits in the passenger seat, hair held back a bun that’s not very effective but makes him all the more handsome.

“It’s not a problem, sweet girl.” James steals a kiss. “We don’t mind.” Remus catches a glimpse at you in the rear view mirror.

“What’s wrong dove?” You pout, not really upset with them but upset at what you realized halfway through your nail appointment.

“All three of you always pay for my things,” All the boys frown, they don’t see the issue. You sigh, your fists banging on your exposed knees under your skirt.

“Every time I have an appointment, one of you comes just to pay. Doesn’t that make you feel gross? Like you’re just here to maintain me?”

Sirius turns to face you first. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always able to get to you faster than the other boys.

“Why would we feel gross about taking care of you? You’re not a thing to maintain and even if we do pay for your things it doesn’t mean it’s a burden.”

Remus nods at Sirius’ words, “We don’t come just to pay either. We like seeing you get all dolled up, lovely girl. It’s a treat for us as much as it is for you.”

You roll your eyes, disbelieving, “Just this week, I’ve done my hair, had a facial, got waxed and did my nails and you all paid for something.”

Remus nods, driving effortlessly while holding your eyes in the rear view. “We like taking care of you dove. You never ask for us to do it, we just do because it makes us feel good.”

James nods, lips to your temple. “It does. So what if you go do a million procedures a month? Just as long as we get to finance it.”

You sigh long and hard, “But it’s so much.”

Remus shakes his head, voice soothing even as he maneuvers the car through traffic, “Baby, we all argue about who gets to pay for what. It’s not too much for us, we want to keep doing it.”

Sirius cuts you a hard look from the passenger side when he catches your eye roll, “Poppet,” he leans around the seat to look you in the eyes. “We like maintaining you. We like spending our money on you when you want to do something, that’s not an issue to us, got it?”

James speaks softly when you don’t answer, “S’like Remus said, angel. No sense in making yourself feel bad for something we’d practically fight each other to do, yeah?”

You nod, a little bashful under his gaze and when he beckons you forward with his chin, you nearly scramble across the middle seat to kiss him.

Sirius’ hands tangle in your hair and you pull away, “I just got it done yesterday, Siri.” He smiles, all wicked and best pleased.

“And you look all the more gorgeous.” He steals another kiss just as Remus pulls up to your brunch destination. “Now c’mon, we’ve got to show you off after all this.”

Remus turns your face before you get too far, stealing a couple kisses for himself. “No more worrying about us taking care of you, yeah?”

You’re dazed and kisses silly, “Yeah, Remmy.” James gets his kisses last and you have to wait ten minutes in the backseat before getting out with any of them while you hide a smile.

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gracexthoughts · 7 months ago

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intrusion

jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader

warnings; assault, blood and fighting, break in, cursing, pretty typical for canon universe level of violence, no use of y/n or character description, men being creeps summary; from this request. two intruders, sent by the greens, stumble upon you in their search for rhaenyra and decide to take you as their prize instead a/n; i love this request sm and wrote this kinda fast so apologies for any mistakes. please do not read if any of the above is triggering to you. i put *** on either end of the physical attack on reader if you want to avoid it

The night has been restless for you. A storm lashes at the island Dragonstone towers over; rain and lightning and thunder tearing at the walls of the keep, wind howling against the window pains. Your husband, Jacaerys, is still gone after being sent to treat with some ally. He has yet to return, and you cannot help the worry that has wormed its way into your chest. The storm has held him up, you repeat to yourself, sighing as you toss in bed to lay on your back. Even though you’ve only been married for a few moons, the bed feels too large without his warmth next to you.

Lighting illuminates the room, and the door to your chambers bursts open as thunder claps, covering the sound of the wood banging against the stone. You bolt up, hoping to see Jacaerys, but instead, you are met with two pairs of unfamiliar eyes.

Two men stand in the doorway of your chambers, one tall and skinny, a white scar across his face shining in the torchlight, and the other short with muscles pushing against the seams of his clothing. Fear seizes your heart as they examine the room. “Who are you?” you demand sharply, attempting to cover the fear in your voice with the commanding tone you hear Queen Rhaenyra use so often.

“That’s not the bloody Whore Queen,” the stout man grumbles in a Flea Bottom accent, lowering the torch slightly. Whore Queen, they called your mother-by-law. The Greens sent them, you realize, your heartbeat increasing its pace.

“That’s the bastard prince’s bitch,” the taller one sneers, kicking the door closed and stalking forward.

“Where’s your princeling at, girly?” the other coos, placing the torch in the sconce near the door. As they come closer, you scoot away on the bed, their eyes like rabid animals circling prey.

“The library,” you lie, “He’s due to come to bed any minute.” Your hand slowly moves under the pillow behind you, searching for the small dagger Jacaerys insisted you sleep with since the attack on his mother by Ser Arryk. The men look at each other, evil smiles splitting their faces.

“Just came from the library,” the shorter man sneers, stepping up onto the platform the bed sits on.

“No bastards there. Seems like you’re all alone,” the tall man coos, biting his lip as he stands at the foot of the bed. Your fingers close around the cool hilt of the dagger as the blankets of the bed are ripped off you. You don’t move, keeping the dagger hidden under the pillows, even as the men scan your figure, only clad in a silk nightdress.

***

“Leave now, and the Queen and the Prince will reward you; I’ll ensure it,” you say, your voice beginning to quiver slightly in fear.

“Oh, the Queen and Prince will reward us, alright, just not your lot,” the man at the foot of the bed smiles menacingly. “Hold her down.” The man at your side reaches out for you, and you slash at him with the dagger, managing a deep cut on his arm. The man stumbles back, a raging yell from his lips.

“GUARDS! HELP!” You scream, trying to move to the left side of the bed, but your leg is pulled back, and your arm that holds the dagger is pinned down to your side by a heavy boot, a rough hand covering your mouth and muffling your screams.

“Shut up, idiot,” the taller man grumbles to the other, who still wails, before turning back to you, “I heard you were a feisty one,” he laughs as he hovers above you, wrenching the dagger free and bringing it up to your face.

“Little cunt, more like,” the man you cut grumbles, glaring at you as tears of fear blur your vision.

“You’ll be fine. Help me with her, would ya?” The two men grab your arms and legs, dragging you from the bed. You cry out as you land on the hard stone floor.

“Shut up!” One of them growls behind you, pulling you up by your hair and covering your mouth. You squirm and fight as best as you can, but the men have the advantage and chuckle at your feeble attempts as they shove you up against the wall. You cry out again as your head connects with the wall and they begin tying your hands with rough rope as you pray silently to any god who will listen.

***

Before they can secure the ropes completely, blood sprays out of the taller man’s chest as a sword splits him in two. The hands on your limbs relent as the man is pulled off you, revealing Jacaerys, sword dripping with blood, face dark with rage and hair wet with rain.

Jace tosses the man to the floor before his eyes turn predatorily to the stockier man who draws a short sword from his belt. You watch in shock as your husband engages with the man, attacking him with more vigor and bloodlust than you thought possible for the sweet man you know. You back away hurriedly and crouch in the corner of the room, desperately trying to get as far away from the fight as possible.

A hand pulls your attention from the fight, and you flinch away before turning to see the Queen, your mother-by-law, reaching for you. Her face is soft but urgent. She goes again for your hand, pulling you to her and helping you stand. She pulls you into her, taking care the shield you as gentle arms wrap around your shaking body, not caring that the blood on your front will stain her gown. You cling to her desperately, listening to her whispers of comfort, and turn your head to see Ser Lorrent pushing the intruder to his knees in front of the Prince, his blade to the man’s throat as more guards rush into the room. Jacaerys stands over the man menacingly, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, blood pooling from a gash on the intruder’s leg onto the stone floor.

“Your friend is lucky I gave him a quick death,” Jacaerys growls, glaring at the man on the floor as he crouches down in front of him like a predator, “You won’t be so. I’ll be sure to send The Usurper a message with your head, once I’ve made you pay for touching my wife.” You’ve never seen such rage in your husband before; his usually so soft and sweet amber eyes now contorted with hatred, the flames from the torchlight reflecting in his eyes as if the fire is inside him. His sword drips with blood, mixing with the blood pool on the floor and yet there’s not a scratch on him. Rhaenyra squeezes you tightly for a moment before releasing you and stepping forward.

“Take him to the dungeons, have two guards on duty at all times, and summon the maids,” commands the Queen to Ser Lorrent, who nods and drags the man from your chambers, a trail of blood in their wake. You watch, without moving from your corner, as Rhaenyra cups her son’s face before taking her leave and the guards, and Jacaerys turns to you; all the hardness in his gaze melted away and replaced by wide eyes full of concern. He speaks your name, his voice cracking slightly at the sight of you, and you throw yourself to him. His sword clatters to the ground as his muscular arms catch you, a hand cradling your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your waist tightly. Your knees give out as the shock leaves your veins, and the pair of you drop to the floor.

“How did-”

“The storm made the flight back harder than I expected. I was on my way up when I found a dead guard. They’d pushed the body behind a pillar, but I still saw it. I thought they’d come for Mother again, so I ran to her chambers first. When I saw her undisturbed, I just knew,” Jace explains softly, brushing your hair soothingly, his thumb wiping away tears and blood spatters from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my love. I should’ve been here. I should have come here first, I-I’m going to kill them all for laying a hand on you.”

Jacaerys’ mind is reeling and he’s sure he has never been so scared as he was when he found those men attacking his wife, his love, his heart. His more violent side, one he pushes down for the sake of decency, itches to storm down to the dungeons and torture the man who dared hurt you, to make him pay for every second of pain he caused you, to fly to King’s Landing himself to find those responsible for this night and add their blood to his blade. But you need him more in this moment and he is ever at your will.

“S’not your fault,” you say softly, your voice weaker than you’d like. Jace opens his mouth, but two maids enter the room, clearly having just been woken, eyes wide at the state of your chambers.

“Pardon, my prince, my lady,” the elder of the two says softly, dark blue eyes full of sympathy. Your husband helps you stand, his arm staying protectively around your shoulder.

"Let us wash and try to find sleep," he says softly to you before turning to ask one of the maids to make the bed in your old chambers and run you a bath. Jacaerys wraps his dark red and still-damp cape around your shoulders before leading you down the halls to the chambers you lived in before your marriage. The familiar surroundings comfort you as Jace leads you to the couch before starting a fire in the hearth.

Soon, the bed has been made up and a hot bath drawn and your husband dismisses the maids, thanking them for their help at such late hours. Jacaerys gently helps you undress and step into the bath. Kneeling outside, he helps wash away the night's evidence, softly sponging the blood from your skin and wringing it from your hair. You lean into his soft touch, finding comfort in his presence and care. Few words are spoken between you as he cares for you but in this moment, his presence is all you want. You can sense the anger in Jace lingering under his skin, needling at his mind, but he stays by your side, whispering promises that he won’t leave you, that he’ll always protect you; your wellbeing more important to him than anything else in the world.

Once you are dressed in a clean nightgown and all blood cleansed from both of you, the pair of you crawl into bed together, your head on his broad chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull you back into a sense of safety. It is not until the first rays of light begin to shine through the curtains that you both find sleep, but you do eventually, wrapped in the loving embrace of each other.

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baby-yongbok · 19 days ago

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sub x sub smut is all i can think ab tbh!

like subby you and chan omg 😵‍💫

Good For You - Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧ Content warning - Unprotected sex, creampie, anal toys, established relationship [MDNI] ✧ WC - 1.1k ✧ a/n: I think that sub x sub is interesting and that Chan fit this really well. My second choice would've probably been Han or Felix. Maybe even Hyunjin. Even thought Chan fit it well this was a bit of a challenge. I hope I did it justice! Thanks for the request! (*^_^*) ✧ Masterlist ✧

Most couples wear matching hoodies or sneakers. They’d buy bracelets with similar color schemes but you and Chan had a different idea.

“Baby..” He whimpers while the butt plug you bought vibrates inside of him. You found a cute couples set, pretty and pink with a cute heart shaped jewel on the flared end.

“Channie..” You whine, fighting with his jeans to free him. “Hol’ still please.. Need..”

He squirms against the mattress beneath him, the plug working wonders against his prostate and making his cock leak sticky strings that you lick up hastily. Your own plug is going at full speed, pushing you closer to the release that Chan has been trying to tease all night.

Your boyfriend pulls you up from your spot between his knees with a huff, “No.. no no wanna suck your cock..” You protest and Chan cuts you off with a sloppy kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Please just let me fuck you, need to fuck you, baby. I’ll be your good boy if you’ll be my good girl, please.” He pulls you into his lap and your hips buck at the contact. Your heads fall back, your breathing stutters as you paw at each other's bodies greedily.

“I’m your good girl.” You moan, bucking your hips over him. Your pants found their way to the floor as soon as you two got home and your panties went somewhere with them.

“Fuck, I can’t … you’re gonna make me cum..” His sentence breaks somewhere in the middle. His voice falters like his self control while you rub your slick bare cunt over his pulsing length. You grind over the head, rolling your hips in circles that makes you clench around the buzzing plug with a pathetic curse.

“I’ll be so good, Channie, please..” His grip on your hips tightens, his eyes shut tight and his hurried breathing betrays him, getting caught in his chest when the head of his cock catches on your entrance.

“Baby, let me fuck you, please please please.” Chan’s glassy eyes struggle to focus when he opens them to plead with you. “Ride me or - or I’ll ride you, please, anything..”

His pleas mix with yours while you beg for the same exact thing. “Yes, yes, please..” You grind up and his cock slips inside. You share a fucked out keen and Chan’s fingers dig into your hips while yours press into his shoulders.

“Fuck, move.. I need you to move or I’m gonna bust just like this, please..” Chan looks and sounds like he could cry. The plug pressing against his sweet spot is nearly painful with pleasure and when you move, bouncing over him just how he likes it, the plug fucks into him and his eyes roll back.

You’re no better, filled in both holes and seconds away from bursting at the seams. You can feel Chan’s thick cock rub up against the plug, you can feel the way he twitches with each wave of vibration that surges through you and you can feel your clit throb with pleasure from your impending climax.

“Don’t stop, Don’t stop, you’re such a good - good girl f’ me..” His words are choked and the air is crowded with whimpers but his are significantly louder, overpowering your breathy whines with heady grunts and pathetic groans that only fuel the fire burning hot in your core.

He meets you with a thrust each time you bounce over him, his rhythm falters and he bucks up. You swear that you can feel him in your stomach. You fall forward and he holds you tight, squeezing you and fucking up into you faster to chase his own high.

“Channie, baby, feels so.. good. Please don’t cum yet, please don’t stop yet..” He whines, his hips stuttering again.

“Need to cum, baby, need to..” His words are nearly incoherent when he speaks through clenched teeth. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna be your good boy but.. But..”

You clench around him and the both of you fall apart. Your orgasm dangles in front of your face, your clit pulses from the traveling vibrations of the plug and your boyfriend's intense climax only makes it worse.

Chan melts beneath you, squeezing you to his chest and panting like he’s been underwater for ages. His cock twitches and pulses while he fucks you through his high. His movements are fast and choppy while he’s rambling in your ear.

“M’ sorry, sorry - fuck, s-so tight… so good, please cum.. I’ll make you cum, I’ll be your good boy.” His arm wraps around your waist and his hand cradles the back of your head while he moves you over him like a doll. A glorified flesh light designed just for him.

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you. Look at me, please.. Wanna see you, baby.” He tries to pull back, tries to look you in the eye but the overstimulation of this messy cocktail has his glassy eyes hiding behind his lids.

“Too much..” He bucks up harder and you’re seeing white. Everything seems to vanish as the pleasure seeps in and takes over. You scream, tears rolling down your cheeks as you chant a chorus of “thank you’s” to him. While you’re falling apart on top of him, Chan is being milked dry.

He groans, it falls into a pathetic whine like he’s crying for you while his sensitive cock twitches inside of your swollen walls yet again. Your full cunt makes room for the new load by pushing your limits, making you leak around the base of his cock.

“F-fuck, too much.” He whimpers while you ride out your high with fat tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel the overstimulation too. You feel the vibrating and pulsing and leaking. “Senstive, my dick is fucking… shit… baby, baby, get off..”

He lifts you and you whimper. His cock falls forward, his cum leaks from your stretched hole. His dick is red, swollen and pulsing and pretty. You straddle his thighs, watching his cock jump while leaking over the toned and taut muscle of his stomach.

Your plugs are still going at high speed and he clenches around it. “I’m gonna k-keep fucking cumming if you don’t turn that off…” He doesn’t sound as opposed to it as he tries to seem. You look up at him with big eyes, blinking at him with an insatiable urge to empty him.

“I’ll be your good girl if you’ll be my good boy..” Your voice is soft yet strained from the earlier screaming and Chan curses. He squirms, looking down at you with eyes just as shiny as yours. Just as needy as yours.

“I’m your good boy.”

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itstheghostofmypast · 3 months ago

Text

A Goodfella's Moondance

Mafia AU Choi San x Reader

Summary: He waited for her to waltz into his arms, and she did. He felt her jitter and shiver under his touch, much like how he did the same on her love. He had found someone to love and cherish, someone who kept his fragile morality in check, someone who he could call a lover, a wife, a weakness.

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Rating: PG- 13

Word Count: 2.4 K

Est. Read Time: 12 min

Warnings: Blood, kidnapping, murder, guns.

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Song: Moondance by Micheal Bublé

“Do you feel better?” His soft whisper gently pulled her back to consciousness, back to the comfort of the warm, soft, cotton that they were cocooned within, succumbing to the sleep that lay heavy in their bones.

“Mhmmm…”

Ever so slowly, her body turned to the other side, her back that was once pressed against his warm chest, grazing the subtle cotton of one of the many blankets he had heaped upon them in his frenzy of bringing her some form of comfort, trying to suppress the jitters that rocked through her even though she said she was fine. Hands pressed against his chest, vibrating with each beat of his ever loving heart, her head tilted up on her pillow, meeting his tender gaze, eying the small smile that only she got to see, that too behind closed doors.

“Good.”

With that hanging above them, the man wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, forcing her to become one with him, though he could tell by the way her arms had looped around his slender waist, his action was more than welcome.

Little did he know this side of his, this gentleness, this care, this attentiveness was what had her losing her grasp on the bitter reality of the world, perhaps that's why last night she was unable to figure out how the guy asking her for directions was actually going to kidnap her.

One moment a man approaches her while she sat at the bus stop, after her lover had texted her how he would be unable to pick her up from the hospital tonight, also canceling their date because of some ‘Urgent Business.’ The next thing she knew was how she woke up in the trunk of the man who had approached her at the bus stop, asking her the directions to the hospital as he had to go see is sick wife- sue her for being a caring person, nurse or not, it's not like she wasn't going to help him.

The fallacy of rationality lies within situations such as these, while he had taught her a variety of methods of escaping, a contractual instruction enforced by Park Seonghwa himself, in the heat of the moment she had forgotten it all, her core memory allowing her to do no more than to whimper out his name, “San.”

It wasn't till she had felt the car stop that her anxiety morphed into aggression kicking against the roof of the truck, while she tried to move her tied hands, removing the blindfold to look around, only to freeze when the trunk opened, staring up at the man in horror.

“Well, aren't you in a lot of trouble, missy.” The fox featured man smiled at her, one that had her let out a relieved sigh, though she tried to ignore the splatted red across his face, dripping down his chin and onto his crisp white shirt, which was evident when he helped her out, pulling her closer to have her sit on the closed trunk, “You okay?”

She could only nod at the fact that, physically, perhaps she was, but she wouldn't be so sure about her mental status, never had this happened before and truly, for the first time in her life had she felt afraid and alone, a feeling her husband had long rid off from her mind, body and soul.

“Good, because San isn't, he's furio-”

The loud bang cut him off, for a split second his eyes flickered to the man who was standing across the car, in front of it, staring at something, or someone on the ground, before moving back to the shivering woman. With a loud sigh he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shaking shoulders, and called out, “YAH! DID YOU REMOVE YOUR SILENCER?”

The taller man grunted in response, pushing up his glasses, not bothered by the spots of blood staining the glass, in fact the red calmed him down a bit, a reminder of him punishing the bastard who thought this woman was an easy target.

Wooyoung watched his friend walk over to them, fully aware of how San had removed the silencer on purpose, wanting everyone in the vicinity and the perpetrator to know what happens when you try to come into his personal life.

With a nod he motioned for Wooyoung to sit in the car, disposing the body wasn't part of the plan, Seonghwa had agreed when San had requested to “let me make an example out of him”, so much so that the husband of the woman who was shaking like a leaf currently, had also brought his infamous bat with him, which only reminded his friends of how this was personal was him.

With each gloved hand placed on either side of her on the trunk, he looked down at her, she peaked up at him through her lashes, unsure of what he was going to say or do, perhaps he would be upset with her, disappointed by how she was unable to fend for herself even though he had prepared her for a situation like this, his friends had prepared her for a situation like this. At the end of the day, they were from two different worlds, she would heal people and well he would…what if tonight he finally realised that and-

“I'm sorry.”

Taking off his gloves he placed them beside her before pulling out a pocket knife from his breast pocket, flicking it open as he began to work on the ropes around her wrists. He frowned at the roughness of the threads, mumbling things like, “This may bruise”, “The f*cker didn't need to tighten them so much.”, “Wish I could kill him all over again.”

Once he was done, he tossed the rope aside, gently taking her scratched wrists in his hands, before lifting her wrist up to his lips as he placed a tender kiss on the reddened skin, repeating the motion of love with her other one before looking at her with a somber flare in his eyes, “I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time.” He should have been more careful, he should have ensured she was safe, it was his job to keep her safe. And he stood there, in blood and tears, seeking her forgiveness, unaware of how the woman was falling even more for her gentle giant of a husband.

“Seonghwa said you can't leave the house without protection anymore.” He mumbled, the bass in his sleep lusted voice making her squeeze him closer, not that he would mind.

His own hand had begun to aimlessly trail down her spine, only to slide back up to complete the cycle, thinking to himself a moment before he continued, “Hongjoong has assigned a few men…though I'll be around you whenever I'm free. The shipment is late anyway, and he's having Yunho and Mingi deal with it, so I'm all yours for the coming few days.”

“Okay…”

San blinked at her hushed response, it was evident she was elsewhere, or she was still a bit too shaken to respond coherently. Either way, with the gun stashed beneath his pillow and his lover in his arms to protect, he began to formulate a way of protecting her 24/7. Naturally, he couldn't always be there himself nor could his brothers. How much did he trust his men? What if he got her a personal gun or a-

“Sannie?”

His train of thought derailed at her calling, pulling back a bit to glance down at the only reason why he hadn't tipped off the cliff of his primitive instincts, hand pressing flat against her back as he nodded, “Yes, dove?”

“Can you sing for me?”

Could he sing? Of course he could. Did he sing often? No, not really. In fact, she was the newest addition to the only other people who knew his secret, that the right hand man of Ateez, the cold blooded killer trained and raised by Park Seonghwa himself could harmonise with the very same angels that stood at the gates of Heaven, waiting to reject his entrance.

“What would you like to hear?”

Giving her a small smile he slowly pulled away, sitting up and resting his back against the cushioned headrest of the king sized bed, picking up his glasses from the nightstand and placing them on the bridge of his nose. He turned to glance at her, admiring the way she looked up at him with awe, it was truly a blessing to have an angel such as herself admire a creature like him, willing to bathe in the simmering blood of his brutality, willing to swallow the bitter truth of his existence, willing to embrace the carcass in which once his humanity once flourished.

“Umm…” slipping the covers off herself she sat up, tugging at the strings of his hoodie that she wore, slowly moving closer and straddling him, looking up at him with a blush ever so subtle, “Moondance?”

A hearty laugh broke past his pout, the bass of his laughter bouncing off the cold walls of the room, blocking out the soft chippers of the early birds outside. If she was being honest, she's sure everyone who was trying to sleep could hear him right now, considering everyone did retire to their rooms after she had come home; have Jongho check her vitals, watch her husband get verbally abused by Hongjoong for being careless, have Seonghwa make her promise to never use public transport again, give Yeosang the entire details of the night so he could ‘take care of the mother company’, eye Yunho who took her husband aside to give him a pep talk after his sulking and be force fed by Mingi who insisted that “You burn more calories being kidnapped than an hour on a treadmill”, all the while having Wooyoung make dinner and yell at them for being noisy- ironic.

“What's so funny?” She asked, her hands cupping his face before she slipped off his glasses, frowning at the blood splattered on the glass, why didn't he clean this off. And just like that she tilted to her side, reaching over to grab a tissue from the nightstand, feeling him quickly grab her by the waist so she wouldn't fall over.

“Careful there, dove.” He mumbled pulling her back up onto him, watching her try to clean off the dried blood, trying to hold back the urge to crush her with his love, “It's fine- oh.”

“It's not, dirty glasses stress the eyes,” cutting him off she gently slipped the glasses back onto the face of the owner, giving him a smile before getting comfortable on him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she placed her head on the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, the lingering memories having her latch onto him for comfort.

San watched her go about as she pleased, much like how she often did, not that he'd ever mind. Once she was settled, nestled against him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his against the headboard as he sighed. It was evident that last night had taken a toll on her, but what he learnt from experience was that eventually you get over it, become numb to the bitter memory, usually with the help of a distraction or a friend or two. It was never his intention for her to feel this way, in fact, from the moment he had left his heart in her hands at the ER, he had decided to keep her safe, even before she chose to accept his invitation of love, he had decided to keep her safe from all the grotesque wonders he had been blessed to bear witness to since his childhood. Though at the very moment he wondered if that was even worth it, if dragging her into his life was worth it, ruining her chances of living a mundane, peaceful-

“Are you this slow when Seonghwa asks you for something too?”

Her snarky remark caught him off guard, trying to get a better look at her but she just giggled and buried her face in his neck, the only form of compensation given to him was the tender press of her lips against his pulse, only to have it increase two folds.

San's arms squeezed her, earning a contented sigh from his wife, much to his pleasure as he stared out the window, watching the pale winter sun cast a chalky hue among the cloudy scapes of the sky. Taking a deep breath he whispered into the still of their room,

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes.

A fantabulous night to make romance

'Neath the cover of October skies

Knowing nothing more mattered to him at this point but the woman that clung onto him, her heart beating with his, waltzing through harmony.

And all the leaves on the trees are falling

To the sound of the breezes that blow

You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling

Of your heartstrings that play soft and low

He felt her hold tighten, mumbling something that he couldn't make out, but the way her body fell lax against him assured him it was some form of positive affirmation. Indeed it was, for before tumbling back into the depths of slumber, swaying in the melody of her husband's voice she had whispered, “Thank you, my love.”

You know the night's magic seems to whisper and hush

You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush

He wondered if she was as smitten for him as he was for her- it amazed him how she'd tell him that she knew he'd always protect her, when the fact of the matter was that it was indeed her who was protecting him, from the insanity of the world that had bruised and battered him inside and out, from the wrath of Park Seonghwa who wanted to end him for choosing to start an affair with a civilian, as pure and naive as her and from himself, the one that he too feared, knowing that if that Choi San was to resurface, only she could stop him. It was fine though, he was going to protect her from the cold, from nature and man. It's what a dutiful goodfella does, what a dutiful husband does.

Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?

Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland

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ivyues · 2 months ago

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Rejected Embraces and Heavy Hearts: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O refusing a hug

Part 2 -> Reconciling Comfort

Bang Chan

Chris approaches you cautiously after a heated argument. His face is filled with concern as he takes a step towards you, arms open, ready to make amends. "I'm sorry... can I at least hold you?" he asks softly.

You instinctively step back, avoiding his gaze, your heart torn but your resolve firm. The weight of the argument lingers between you like a shadow, too heavy to lift just yet.

The slight movement – the step back – hits him like a brick, breaking his heart in a way he didn’t expect. His hopeful smile fades, and his arms drop slowly to his sides, his expression dimming with disappointment.

"I understand… I’ll give you space," he whispers, turning away slowly, unable to hide the sadness in his eyes.

Lee Know

You’re having a tough day, and Lee Know notices right away. He approaches you with a warm smile, attempting to offer comfort. “Hey, can I give you a hug? You look like you need one," he says.

But you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not now, please…"

His face drops slightly, the familiar sparkle in his eyes dimming. For a moment, his concern deepens, not because you rejected his comfort, but because he worries about why you feel the need to carry this alone. "I just want to make you feel better," he says softly, stepping back a little. "Okay... if you change your mind, I’ll be right here." The hurt in his voice is barely concealed, but he respects your space, though the distance makes him ache inside.

Changbin

After a busy day of work and practice, Changbin’s first instinct is to shower you with affection. He steps toward you with his arms open wide, a big grin on his face. "Finally, we get to relax together! How about a hug?"

But you're too tired and worn out, feeling a bit too much in your head to let him in right now. “I’m just really tired, Binnie,” you say, shaking your head.

Changbin’s grin fades, and a small sigh escapes him. “I get it… I’ll give you time to rest," he says, but the way he slumps a little afterwards shows his disappointment. The warmth of his hug is what he craves, but he respects your space, even if it hurts.

As he steps back, his thoughts begin to weigh on him. When did things come to this point? He thinks, feeling a sense of unease settle in his chest. When did we get to a place where we don’t want comfort from each other?

Hyunjin

Hyunjin walks up to you, apologizing for something he did, his face full of regret. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but can I hug you? Please?” His eyes are filled with sincerity, and he stretches out his arms, hoping to mend things.

But your face is cold, and you cross your arms in front of you, rejecting his offer. “I don’t want a hug right now, Hyunjin,” you say firmly.

The silence that follows is deafening, but it gives him time to reflect. As he stands there, he begins to realize that what he did cut deeper than he had initially thought.

His heart sinks as his hands fall to his sides, and he looks at the ground in silence. "I understand… I’ll just wait until you’re ready," he mumbles, the hurt evident in his voice. He stands there for a while, wishing he did things differently.

Han

Han notices how fragile you seem today – your eyes dull, your posture slouched – and instinctively, he opens his arms wide. "I can tell you're feeling down. Want to just relax in my arms?"

But you step away, shaking your head slowly, your voice trembling. "I just don’t feel like being held right now," you explain softly. As you turn away, his eyes linger on you, and a new fear takes hold of him. He can’t shake the thought that something is consuming you – physically, mentally, or both – and it leaves him feeling powerless.

Han's expression shifts to one of sadness, his arms dropping to his sides. "I just wanted to make you feel safe…" he murmurs, but doesn’t push. The look on his face lingers long after, though, as he quietly retreats, wishing he could ease your pain.

Felix

Felix sees your disappointed face and can’t help but feel guilty. “I’m really sorry for letting you down,” he says, trying to find some way to fix the situation. “Can I give you a hug? I just want to show you that I care."

But you shake your head, taking a step back. “I’m not sure a hug is enough this time…”

Felix's face falls, and the hurt in his eyes is almost palpable. "Okay... I get it," he replies quietly. He stays where he is, arms at his sides, trying to hold it together, but his shoulders slouch slightly as the sadness takes over.

A part of him panics as his thoughts turn to the days ahead. With the tour looming, he realizes he won’t be able to see you for a while, and a deep fear settles in his chest. The thought of being apart, especially with things unresolved, only deepens his concern. What if this distance creates a bigger wedge between you two? What if the time apart only makes things worse?

Seungmin

Seungmin notices how stressed and exhausted you look after a long day. His instinct is to comfort you, to hold you in his arms. “You’ve been through a lot today… do you want a hug?” he asks, his voice gentle.

But you can’t bring yourself to embrace him, your emotions feeling too heavy. “I don’t think I can handle it right now, Seungmin,” you say softly, avoiding his eyes.

He nods slowly, his smile fading as he watches you withdraw. "Okay… if you need me, I’ll be here. Just let me know when you’re ready." His words are comforting, but the sadness in his voice makes him wish you’d let him in.

What he doesn’t say is how desperately he wishes you'd come to him today. Normally, Seungmin isn’t one for physical affection – it’s not his go-to way of showing love – but right now, nothing would bring him more peace than wrapping you in his arms, offering the comfort you need.

I.N

I.N notices you’ve been quiet and distant all day. Concerned, he walks over to you with a gentle smile. "You seem a little down... can I hug you? You don’t have to say anything, just let me hold you," he says, his voice soft with care.

But you shake your head, feeling too embarrassed to be vulnerable in that moment. "I don’t want to be a bother," you murmur.

He blinks, clearly upset by your response. "You're never a bother to me," he says quietly. But as you turn away, he pulls his arms back, disappointment washing over his face, though he doesn’t push you further.

You glance back at him, guilt stirring inside you. The last thing you want is to make him feel like he’s not enough or that your mood is too much to bear. “I’m sorry for pulling down your mood…” you apologize softly, your words almost a whisper, as if you’re trying to take away the weight of your emotions from him. With a heavy heart, you walk away, feeling both distant from him and weighed down by your own feelings.

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gutsby · 11 months ago

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Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

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