#though I've got no idea what the fuck this thing is at least i had fun w/ the effects ibis has to offer gfjfgfjggbg

[faceeeeee]

Am I cool enough yet?

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 10 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: A fight turns into something beautiful. Turns into what could be your last day on earth.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/rape/death, hinting at suicidal thoughts (only briefly and not really serious, but I'll put it here nonetheless), body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, (rough) sex, oral sex, switch, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

The tight smile.

It was all you needed to see to know you were in great, big trouble. It was really disappointing though, considering how good the day had started.

When you woke up, right after having a short, restless sleep, you saw him lying beside you. And for once, ever since you had gotten here, he wasn’t awake. No, he was deep asleep. His beautiful  eyes shut tightly and his expression one of peaceful relaxation. You hadn’t ever seen him this perfect before.

It was nearly ridiculous. Just a few hours earlier, he had ravaged you in a way that left you feeling sore and used, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but somehow you had a feeling last night was different. It wasn’t the sex per say. It was the way he got angry and you felt you couldn’t get through to him, even if you truly wanted to. And what was far worse than all of it, was the threat.

The threat.

What did it even mean?

I would never kill you. At least not unless you gave me a reason to.

It wasn’t even a subtle threat. He didn’t try to hide that he was twisted and dangerous. Dangerous for you, if you pushed the right buttons. You had done so quite some times by now, but luckily you were still around. But how much was too much?

What would make his mind go blank and cause him to swing an axe at you?

Shoot you right in the face?

Gut you in the middle of the-

You shuddered and took a long, deep breath to calm yourself. This wasn’t going to happen. You wouldn’t anger him to that degree. And yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from thinking about it.

What could possibly piss him off enough, to trigger such an extreme reaction?

If you went out and fucked someone else?

Or if you spilled milk on the coffee table?

You took another slow breath and looked back at his peaceful, sleeping form. It was hard not to love him, when he was like this. Sweet. Peaceful.

Vulnerable.

You hadn’t even seen vulnerable, regarding him. Not really. You didn’t know his name, his family, his backstory or anything else that truly mattered. All you knew was which buttons to push and it would make him slap you. You had his age. And his sexual preferences. You knew he had some kind of dangerous job, but you had no idea what it was about. And you knew he was twisted.

Utterly and entirely twisted.

But you saw none of that as you watched him sleep. All you saw was a handsome man, the most handsome man you had ever seen, even with the faint trace of a scar on his cheek. You still hated the sight of it. Not because it would have done anything to his attractiveness. No, he was very obviously still perfect. It was the fact that he got hurt.

Someone hurt him.

You were surprised just by how angry the thought made you. He was always so confident. It was his choice to either be angry and take it out on you or to be gentle and spoil you with affection and gifts. But it was his choice. He was the man. He was in charge. He was the epitome of strength.

And someone hurt him.

Him.

A part of you was almost tempted to think yours.

Someone hurt your man.

But you pushed the thought away just as quick as it came. He was hardly your man.

Your bane, your curse, your horror. Yes.

But not your man.

When he stirred slightly, you were pulled out of your thoughts. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for him to blink his eyes open. When he finally looked up at you and met your gaze, a hint of surprise flashed over his features. But he schooled his expression into a soft smile effortlessly.

“Good morning, my little owl.” He purred. “You’re up early.” He raised a brow and smirked slowly. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Your face flushed, but you didn’t feel the need to deny it. It was pretty obvious anyway.

“I did.” You said quietly. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so…peaceful.”

He hummed softly and propped himself up on his elbows, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear with two fingers. “Peaceful? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He didn’t seem angry or even irritated that you watched him. If anything, he seemed amused or maybe even strangely flattered.

You shrugged.

“Have you been up for long?”

You shook your head.

He frowned slightly and held your chin in his hand, brushing his thumb over your skin in a gentle way. “You didn’t sleep well. You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

You averted your gaze. What could you possibly tell him? That you spent all night, asking yourself not if, but when he would finally snap and snap your neck the same?

“Look at me.”

You hesitated, but eventually you met his gaze again. His expression was one of thoughtfulness and curiosity and you knew you had to give him something. He wouldn’t stop pestering you otherwise. You thought for a moment, before you finally gave up. You didn’t trust your ability to lie to him. He would see right through it and punish you for trying to deceive him.

“It’s about last night.” You murmured quietly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but eventually he relaxed his expression and let go of your chin. With a soft sigh, he murmured back: “Was it too much for you? Too rough?”

You thought about the best possible way to answer this. Eventually you came up with something you would have hoped would be the perfect solution. “I’m still ashamed.”

“Ashamed?” He frowned.

“Because a part of me enjoys it.”

He hummed softly. “We talked about this, sweet girl, but I’ll say it again and again. You have nothing to be ashamed about. First of all, it’s not your fault you turned out like this.”

“That’s kind of the problem.” It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. It did bother you. Just that the life threatening thing was worse. “I feel like you enjoy what we do, because you simply enjoy it. And I think I enjoy it, because I feel the constant need to get hurt and degraded, because of…because of what happened to me.”

He regarded you with a long, thoughtful look. His eyes softened somewhat and he was back. The man who supposedly cared about you came back, after a long, rough night. He sighed and rolled over so that he was on his back and staring at the ceiling. All the while he stretched out his arm and pulled you along, curling you into his side. He didn’t look at you as he spoke and his tone of voice was almost emotionless.

You couldn’t tell if you preferred this over the anger. Probably not.

“Did I ever tell you about my father?”

You froze. What? No. He hadn’t ever told you anything about himself that mattered. Let alone his family. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even have a father.

But all you managed was a small, breathless shake of your head.

He hummed softly and played with your hair as he spoke, still keeping his voice cool and measured. He never met your gaze. Almost like he couldn’t. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to appear nonchalant or if he truly didn’t care. You hoped for the first one.

“My father had some creative ways of punishment.” He hummed. Oh, God. “Similar to your mother, I might think. Just more blood. And a few…other things.”

You held your breath as he spoke, feeling utterly sick. The fact that he had so subtly and smoothly threatened your life last night was suddenly the last thing on your mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, sweetness. I was always a little different from other boys my age. I wasn’t interested in the things the others were. I liked different things. Darker things. But I’m pretty sure, had it not been for my father…” He hummed. “He did some nasty things. Really nasty. And not only to me. To my mother as well.” He turned to face you fully, while you still lay frozen and staring at him with bated breath. All the while he caressed your face and spoke in this soft voice, like he was reading from a children’s book. It was eerie. “That might be one of the reasons why I am always in control.” He smiled briefly. “Especially sexually.”

You just kept staring at him. He hadn’t said it outright and he probably never would, but you could tell there was something. Something dark and terrible, something that still haunted him, even after all these years. And it made you sick to the core. The fact that his father, his own father, had hurt him, it made you feel nauseous. And especially, angry.

“So, I should probably be grateful to him, don’t you think?”

You knew you weren’t supposed to say anything to that, anything about that at all. No matter how terrible you felt, no matter how badly you wished to comfort him. He would get angry, because he would think of it as pity. You were sure. But you still had to say it.

“Your father is a sick man.” You said quietly. “And you didn’t deserve whatever he did to you.”

“Oh, I’m aware, my sweet, darling girl.” His face lit up in a soft smile. “I was just a boy. A twisted one, maybe. But still a boy.”

It made you feel as uneasy, as you felt relieved about it. At least he acknowledged it. He had no fault in his father’s cruelty. At least not back then.

And at least there was something. A tiny reminder that he was human, that he was real, that there was something akin to flesh and blood that made him similar to you. Not the fact that it had happened. Oh no, you would have changed it, were you in the power to. You would have bled and suffered, if only it meant to free him from the burden of his past.

No, but the thought that he told you about it. He had a father. A mother. A family. He had a childhood. A life. He was real.

You lay in silence for a long while. Of course you wanted to say more, to comfort him and hug him. To kiss away the fear he had probably felt as a little boy. You wanted to take him in your arms and make him whole again, puzzle him together until he got reunited with the love he was so desperately missing all his life. What about his mother? You asked yourself. But you thought now wasn’t the best time to ask. You didn’t want to risk making him angry, when he wasn’t so far. He hadn’t ever shared as much of himself. You didn’t want to say anything. And, you suddenly realized, you were afraid to pressure him.

So you said the next best thing. In the silent hope, that one day he’d trust you enough to let you in.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You said very softly. His head perked up and his expression softened. No anger in sight.

“My sweet, caring girl. The ghosts of my past are no more than that. And don’t you worry. I got my revenge.”

You bit your lip and rolled onto your side, facing him properly. The thoughtfulness in your eyes turned into something else the longer you looked at him, a mixture of concern and gentleness. He didn’t seem to mind. He let you stare without interrupting your thoughts. It was a peaceful, comfortable silence.

“How did you get your revenge?” You asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

He smirked and stretched out his arms behind his head.

“I killed him.”

A part of you had suspected as much. But another part of you, the naïve little girl that you somehow still were, felt horrified. He killed his own father. And yet, that other part of you whispered softly in the back of your mind.

Did you expect anything else?

You thought back to your mother. Had you ever had a gun in the wrong moment-

No. Never. You couldn’t kill anyone. Not even a fucking fly. You were the type of person to chase them out of the window, instead of crushing them.

It wasn’t enough to calm you down and he seemed to notice.

“Are you alright, sweet girl?”

You were going to die anyway. Why not speak freely at least?

Forget his father. He’s dead. But you’re not. Not yet at least.

“You scared me last night.”

His brows furrowed. “When we-“

“No.” You said in a soft tone and slowly sat up, wrapping the sheets around your body. “I mean, yes. Kind of. But that’s not the problem. You scared me when you said…when you said you would kill me if I gave you a reason to.” Your expression and your tone of voice were almost child-like. Innocent and curious, not at all trying to guilt-trip him. Just a girl, scared for her life. Her sanity.

Herself.

“Oh, sweet girl.” He said softly as he sat up as well. He reached out to pull you on his lap, but you pulled back. He frowned, but he didn’t protest.

“I was simply-“

“What could get me killed?”

It was so sharp, so matter-of-fact, that it made him pause for a moment. He looked genuinely caught off-guard, like he never expected him to ask him such a question. And like he wasn’t sure how to answer it.

“What?”

“What could I say or do that would make you kill me?” You asked in a soft voice. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, but you tried to stay strong. You needed to get a point across. You needed to know.

He thought for a moment, before he leaned back and narrowed his eyes in a thoughtful frown.

“Another man.”

Cheating. As if you really were anything to each other, right?

Such a normal thing. People got killed over cheating all the time, didn’t they?

Or did they really?

“Another man.” You whispered. “Okay. What else?”

He hummed softly. “If you left me.”

“If I left you?” You meant it in a way as if saying; how would I be supposed to leave you? There aren’t even fucking windows here.

He nodded. “When you leave me, you’re no longer my girl. And I don’t have a reason to keep you alive, if you’re not.”

You swallowed thickly. How very refreshing. He was being honest at least. Wasn’t that what you wanted? And you didn’t know if this was better or worse. You had expected as much.

“Anything else?” You whispered hoarsely.

“No.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “No? If I don’t cheat on you or leave you, you won’t-“

“No.” He said again, in that infuriating, calm tone.

“And if I insulted you?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “If I hurt you? If I-“

“Don’t get me wrong.” The menacing bastard was back. “You don’t get to trample on me, sweet girl. In fact, you know what happens, if you do all that. You’ll get punished. And that didn’t change.” He narrowed his eyes further.

He took a long breath to calm himself and finally said: “I just didn’t want you to be terrified for no reason. I’m sure there are a few more things you can do that will definitely get you killed. So, try not to push my buttons too much. Don’t experiment. Don’t think you get any kind of power. All you are is my girl. Mine. Mine to use. Mine to torment as I please. You’re my plaything. My toy.” He got angrier with every word and you were sure, more than sure, you had done something terribly wrong.

“Mine to use however I see fit.” He gritted out. “Because that’s all you are to me.”

Every word stabbed a wound deeper and deeper into your soul. He didn’t love you. You weren’t an idiot. But a part of you had hoped, hoped so desperately, that you were anything more to him. Anything of meaning. Anything he cared about. Anything he thought about and smiled, when he went off to his mysterious workplace. Anything at all.

But you weren’t. You were his plaything. His fucktoy. His doll.

His girl.

Your face burned in shame and your guts churned painfully. You slowly looked down at your hands and folded them in your lap, while you kept the blanket pulled up to your chin.

“I wasn’t-“

“Yes, you were.” He hissed and roughly pulled your chin up, to make you look at him. “Did you hear me? You’re nothing more than a thing for me to use, a doll, something to dress up in a pretty dress and take my anger out on. Did you get that through your goddamn, thick skull? You’re nothing. Nothing at all.” He spat out.

At this point, you felt indeed like he had stabbed you. The knife was still there on the carpet by the bed. How very reckless. You could have stabbed him last night, didn’t he think about that? No, he was tired or maybe he just trusted himself to have broken you enough not to ever hurt him.

It was true. You wouldn’t ever hurt him. Not like that. That one punch was as far as it could go.

And now, as you sat there and listened to his cruel words, a small part of you suddenly wished he hadn’t bluffed, hadn’t used the knife as a way to find relief in his twisted mind. A part of you wished you weren’t there, to listen to his cruel reminders. The reminder that you were nothing.

Nothing at all.

You felt your hands shake, just the same second your lip quivered.

He was so angry, so furious, he hardly even recognized your presence. He wanted to make some point known.

You understood it now.

He would never love you.

But you? It was too late for you. You already loved him. And he was breaking your heart.

All your life you thought that couldn’t happen to you. You always assumed you were far too numb for these things.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you stared firmly down at your lap. Your hands were shaking furiously and your body shook with the sobs you choked back.

By the time he looked up again and saw the state you were in, his anger immediately disappeared. Something akin to horror took its place instead. He rushed forward without even thinking about it and held your arms tightly, tilting his head down below and staring up at you, to make you look at him.

“Wait.” He said quickly. “Wait. I didn’t mean it.”

You were stuck between pushing him away and letting him console you. But you knew there was probably nothing that could ever bring you back. Your heart, already broken and bruised, had just somehow been pieced back together by him, only for him to crush it again under the palm of his hand, under the cruelty of his words, under the weight of his actions.

You decided to push him back instead. At least for once, you tried to keep a semblance of dignity. It was a lost cause, but it meant something to you.

He let out a surprised exhale, but quickly rushed forward again, trying to get ahold of you, but this time, you struggled.

“Get off of me!”

“No, you need to listen to me!”

“No! No, get the hell off!”

“You need to listen!”

You struggled even harder and pushed him back, clawed at his skin and within seconds you found yourself in the middle of a physical fight. So far, he hadn’t tried to slap you or bring you to your senses anyhow, he just tried to make you focus. And when you hit against his chest or pushed him back by his shoulders, when you scratched his arms and pulled on his hair, he let you. Without retaliating. He let you.

You were just waiting for him to snap. A part of you might even have been hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, because he had just hurt you so terribly. But he didn’t.

And when you pushed him back against the mattress, he let you.

And when you straddled his lap, he let you.

He even let you intertwine your fingers and press his hands against the bed.

He just let you.

You stopped struggling. Stopped fighting him and stopped trying to provoke anything.

You were on top him, your hair falling over your shoulders and framing your face like a waterfall. Everything else was suddenly gone. All that there was left were him and you. He stared up at you, his eyes wide and his expression one of quiet fascination. Of course he allowed you to take control. After all, all it needed was a tiny bit of strength from him and he’d have you pinned to the floor. But this time, he didn’t. He didn’t protest, didn’t fight back, didn’t even flinch. He allowed you to take the lead. He allowed you to take control of him.

When the thought hit you, you nearly choked on the air you breathed. And you breathed, heavily and quickly, until your breaths mingled into one. You leaned further down, so close that the tip of your nose almost touched his. His chest rose and fell quickly. You could tell, even though you kept your focus on his face.

“You meant it.” You whispered breathlessly.

He stared at you with his mouth slightly agape and then he slowly shook his head. “You’re more.” He whispered back.

More than a toy?

More than a doll?

More than just his girl?

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t allow yourself to hope, because if you did, the next time he crushed it, it would be ever harder for you to find back to yourself. And did you really want to risk that?

You shook your head, ready to come up with the next bitter, biting response, when his words caught you off-guard.

“You’re not only mine”, he said quietly. “I’m also yours.”

God, this was confusing. And slowly you felt yourself get as dizzy and nauseous as you would have on a rollercoaster. You hated rollercoasters, because you were afraid of them. You hated them, because you never went on one.

“You’re two people at once.” You whispered breathlessly. “How do I know, when your evil twin will be back?”

He smiled slowly. Even now, even when you felt heartbroken and furious, his smile meant so much to you. It made everything seem beautiful. Everything was easier. Nothing hurt.

Until it did.

“I know.” He whispered. “Maybe you could try and put him in his place, every once in a while.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Did he really allow you to take control? Just like that? Was it a trick? Was it a game? A joke? Something even more evil he’d come up with?

Whatever it was, you were dying to find out. Because you were sure, you’d get punished anyway. So, why not make use of it?

You took a shaky breath and leaned further down, so close, until your lips almost touched.

“You really didn’t mean it?” You asked in the ghost of a whisper.

His gaze briefly wandered down to your lips, before he looked into your eyes again.

“No.” He whispered back. “Not even I am that dense.”

That nearly made you smile.

But just nearly.

Instead you did something else. You leaned further down, until your lips finally touched his. The kiss was feather-light and hesitant. The touch was so gentle, that you caught yourself asking yourself in your head, if it really was the same man.

He was letting you kiss him. He didn’t try anything. Didn’t try to part your lips or pull you closer. Didn’t try to push your legs apart. His hands were still motionless under yours, all that he did was slowly caress the back of your hands with his fingers.

He participated in the kiss. He kissed you back, obviously. But all he did was mirror your touch.

You were in control.

You gasped against his lips. You had no idea what to do. It felt odd. Maybe even wrong. The only things you had ever fantasized about were to get controlled by someone else.

Controlled by him.

And for you to control him, it sounded like an impossible endeavor. It felt like one, even more. But there you were. On his lap. Slowly guiding the pace.

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered into the kiss.

He hummed very quietly. “Imagine I’m the good twin.” He whispered back and pulled back just enough to look at your face. “There is no right or wrong. Just do whatever feels good.”

You bit your lip as you watched him closely. It could still be a trick. But in the back of your mind, you knew it wasn’t. It was an attempt to heal you. Heal him as well, maybe. You were both damaged. Both two fragments, incomplete and alone. Was it possible that you could heal each other?

It sounded strange in your head. You wanted to be controlled. And he survived off the feeling of being in control. But maybe, just maybe, this was what you both needed. A role reverse. A chance to grow. A chance to connote. Just this once.

To become one, whole thing.

You took a deep, shaky breath and brushed your lips over his. You were still nervous. But you tried to do what he said. Just do whatever feels good.

And maybe it would.

You hesitantly, almost shyly, ran the tip of your tongue along his lower lip. His reaction surprised you. He moaned. You really expected him to get off on nothing but cruelty and violence. But somehow the feeling of you, of being with you, in any way, seemed to be enough.

You needed to try it. The shift. The control. Even just this once.

You slowly parted his lips with your tongue and yours met his in a timid, careful movement. He was still the one guiding you. But the biggest reason was, that you had no idea what you were doing. But he was holding himself back. You were on top, pressed against him.

He was yours.

Your man. Your psychopath. Maybe even your lover.

The kiss went on and your movements became more and more confident. You didn’t actually care what you were doing, as long as you heard the soft moans he tried to suppress. And every time he did, you couldn’t help but moan, too. Your tongues tangled in a sinful dance and you slowly slid your fingertips over his wrists and up his arms. Until you eventually reached his shoulders. His neck. His hair. His cheek. His chin.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were breathing. All the time you expected him to push you away, to reject you, to stop you. But he never did.

Your hand stilled against his face and you pulled your head back to look at him. To see if he was going to stop you. Mock you. Hurt you some more.

But his expression was more earnest than you had ever seen before. You could see the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed and the small, tiny frown of focus on his face. He looked much more mature in that moment than he usually did. When he wore that twisted smile, he looked younger. Carefree. But in that moment, he looked like a man who had seen life.

And death.

And taken a part in it.

He slowly parted his lips, when your fingers stilled against them, inviting you. Your mouth fell open and you inhaled sharply as you felt his tongue dart out.

“God, what are you-“ You stopped yourself and instead released the softest moan, when he ran his tongue along your index finger. His hand gently circled your wrist and he pressed his lips against the back of your hand. Your knuckles. And eventually each finger.

You watched him in awe, realizing you were only ever falling deeper for him.

What was it with that man that you loved him so much, despite all the pain he put you through?

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. The watching, the silence. You squeezed his hand and your head dipped forward. Your lips found his neck and you made a point of kissing each and every spot of skin you found on the way. His eyes fell shut and he took a shaky breath.

“No.” He whispered. “Wait.”

You immediately froze, expecting the inevitable rejection. But instead, he bit his lip and slowly slid his hands under your nightdress. The calloused skin of his palms ran up your back and he gently slid the material up, until he finally managed to pull it over your head and onto the ground. His gaze wandered from your face, down to your neck, where it lingered and eventually further down to your breasts and your stomach.

“God.” He whispered breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.” He bit his lip again and met your gaze. “Let me worship you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you tilted your head to the side, only to feel his lips brush along your earlobe and eventually over your neck. You closed your eyes and sighed softly. It was the best feeling in the world.

His lips caressed your neck and his tongue occasionally darted out, drawing a moan from your lips. He moved with devilish slowness, a torturous pace, slow enough to make you melt into a puddle of desire on top of him. A part of you almost wanted to beg him. Beg him to go faster, to touch you harder, to take you. But you didn’t. Because another part of you wanted to savor every second of this.

When you felt the wet heat of his mouth move lower and embrace the sensitive skin of your breast, you felt your eyes roll back in your head. The sigh that came over your lips was more of a moan. You gently buried your fingers in his hair and played with it. Every time his tongue slipped out to run over the curve of your breast, you felt your hips press down against his own on pure instinct. You felt how hard he was, painfully so. But he didn’t press his hips up against you, he didn’t even try once. He was skilled at ignoring his own need, when he wanted to. He made you feel like a princess. Like all that mattered in the world were you.

You squirmed and shuddered when he moved underneath you, brushing his tongue down a wet path on your stomach.

His hands encircled the back of your thighs and he held you firmly, his fingers gently digging into your skin. And he moved. Lower and lower. Until you felt his hot breath kiss the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. A soft whimper left you and you bit your lip to keep yourself from begging. He was going to give you whatever you wanted. Today, there was no need to beg.

He slowly but firmly pushed your legs apart, and settled in-between them, still lying on his back and ignoring his own ache. He shot you a pointed look, before he finally stuck out his tongue and rolled it over the warm wetness of your need.

“Oh, God.”

He hit every right spot at the first try and you could no longer stay silent. His grip on your thighs tightened and he silently encouraged you to move. Move. Take what you want.

You swallowed a shaky moan and began to tentatively move your hips. It didn’t take long for you to figure out how it worked, how you had to move. It was so easy and the pleasure rolled over you like a warm bath.

“Oh, God.” You whispered again, tightening your hand in his hair.

He did the most sinful things, sliding his tongue inside you and pulling it back out, running it along every spot, embracing your center of pleasure with his warm lips and it felt like Heaven. He knew where to kiss, where to lick, where to suck and where to flick his tongue. He knew everything. And in that moment, you didn’t care one bit about where he gained that knowledge.

Because he used it on you.

And he’d be using it on your for as long as you were his girl.

And you wanted to be his girl for the rest of your life.

“Yes. There. Right there.” You gasped out, moving your hips again and silently begging him to continue, to give you what you wanted, to give you him.

And he did nothing less than that. He kissed you like he’d kiss your lips, he tightened his grip, he didn’t let you back away. His mouth was firmly attached to your body, eager to give you everything you wanted. Letting you ride yourself to bliss.

Which was exactly what you did. You didn’t even realize it, by how suddenly it happened, but your release rolled over you like a flash of lightning. It felt more intense than ever. You felt everything deeply and he didn’t stop, until he was sure, you were entirely spent and satisfied.

You were still gasping for air, when he finally released his grip on you and looked up at you with a soft expression.

You stared at him, trying to catch your breath. All you wanted was to say something, anything, but no words came over your lips. All you managed was the gentle touch of your palm against his cheek. He smiled slowly and covered your hand with his own. Then he slowly moved back up, so that you’d straddle his lap again.

“How was that?” He whispered.

“Fuck.” Was all that you managed.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, but no trace of mockery. Just satisfaction and a tad bit of pride. You forgave him. You would have forgiven him anything.

“Can I?” You finally whispered. You needed to know, if you were still in control.

He smirked. He looked so confident. Just like you always knew him. Confident and strong. In control. And yet…

“I’m all yours, baby. Ride me.”

You bit your lip. Your face flushed the tiniest bit, but you nodded. Now, this was making you really nervous. You had seen videos, but were you able to do it yourself?

Why not? You thought. Why not?

You leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. Still slow and sensual, but you poured all the passion you felt for him in that kiss. And he responded in kind. He didn’t try to take control of your mouth. Instead he moaned against your lips, every time your tongue brushed against his. He ran a hand down your back and squeezed your behind firmly in his hand.

“Fuck, I need you to ride me or I’m going to die.” He groaned as he bit your lip. You responded with another moan. You still felt his hardness press against you, hard and ready and needy.

God, the thought alone. The thought that he wanted you that much. It drove you insane.

You swallowed thickly and carefully ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, down his waist, until-

You smiled. You missed his throbbing, aching need and brushed your fingers gently along his thigh instead.

He glared up at you, a hint of desperation behind the repressed anger.

“I should have known this would come.” He hissed.

Your smile widened into a grin, as you teasingly caressed his side instead.

“What? I’m just doing what you do.”

He released a frustrated growl.

“You-“

“Come on.” You whispered. “Let me have this. Just this once.”

He was still frustrated, but the look in his eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“But I want you.” He murmured and you swallowed.

“How much?” You whispered. God, this was fun.

“How much?” He asked incredulously. “Can’t you feel how much?”

You hummed in the same way he normally would. So innocent. So devilish.

“Paint a picture with your words.”

He exhaled sharply. But eventually he calmed down and wrapped his arms around you gently.

“I need to be inside of you or I’m going to die. I’m going to die, I mean it.”

“Keep going.” You whispered. “Talk to me.” While you spoke, you shifted slightly on his lap, gently grinding down on him and letting him feel you. Just enough to make you gasp, not enough for him to enter you yet.

He bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I want to feel you.” He murmured. “I want to fuck you. I want to be one with you. And I fucking want to cum inside you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you sighed.

“Keep going.” You responded in a breathless whisper, as you ground down against him again. The friction was enough for your both to snap your eyes shut.

“I want you to cum.” He whispered back. “I want you to cum so hard, that it’ll make you cry.”

“Fuck.” You whispered breathlessly and buried your face in his neck. “Fuck, yes.”

You swallowed again and pulled your head back up, enough to rest your forehead against his.

“Let me move then?” You whispered. “Please?”

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “But fucking get to it.”

You released a shaky sigh. You kept your forehead pressed against his and stared into his eyes, intense and deep, while you slowly spread your legs further. You shifted again, your movements a little awkward and insecure, but eventually you felt him press up against you and you felt his tip press against your entrance. And then you slowly lowered yourself down onto his lap. You felt him fill you, but it happened so slowly that you felt every bit of it. And all the time you kept your gaze fixed on his eyes. His reaction. Every moan, every sigh, every twitch. All of it was enough to make you moan in return. You slowly lowered yourself further down, until you felt him all the way. And when you did…You didn’t move. You stayed like that. Just feeling. Just feeling all of him.

And the look in his eyes was worth it.

You had never seen him this soft, this vulnerable before. Not even when he told you about his father. His eyes were softer than ever before and you suddenly realized; you had never seen him this needy. This desperate to feel you. You were sure, just a second more and he would either take control or beg you. But you couldn’t let that happen.

It was his first time to let someone else take control after all.

And you couldn’t have him begging. You couldn’t have him do anything that would make him feel ashamed, when he was so unabashedly doing everything in order to make you happy.

So finally you moved. Slowly and carefully, very unsure still. But you moved. And he moaned. And he moved. And you moaned.

You had never felt him this deep before, this hard, this raw.

“Ride me.” He whispered breathlessly. “Ride daddy’s cock, baby.”

Your face flushed even more, but all you could focus on were his words. You movements became more forceful, more frantic, more desperate. And as hard as he tried not to move at all, it was simply impossible. He pressed his hips up against you, letting you feel him, so hard and God, so desperate.

“Yes. Yes, babygirl, just like that. Let daddy fill you up.” He groaned out.

With every thrust, every move, you felt yourself get closer yet again. It felt like a fantasy.

“Yes. Yes, my sweet girl, my baby, my darling, my love-“

His eyes widened frantically. He panicked. You could tell. So did you. On the inside. But on the outside, you pretended. You pretended all you could, that you hadn’t heard it.

The L-word.

The word that nearly broke you.

No, you hadn’t heard it. He had never said it. It was just a slip-up. A simple mistake. Nothing to get hot and bothered about.

When he realized you didn’t react, he slowly calmed down again and tightened his grip on your hips. His own movements became more and more desperate, until he was pounding into you from underneath.

“Fuck, yes. Cum for me, my babygirl. Cum for me, my darling. Take every drop of my cum.”

His words were enough to drive you over the edge. With a sharp inhale, a breathless moan, you felt your own orgasm hit you again. And he went over the edge right with you.

Your lips just an inch apart and your eyes fixed on each other.

Deep.

And raw.

“Yes.” He growled. “Oh God, yes. Fuck, yes. My girl. My girl, my...” His voice cracked and he came with a roar. He pushed his hips against you with a fervor that nearly left you bruised from the inside and it made your release drag on and on, until you felt you were about to take off to the sky.

It took you a few seconds, but when you both finally came back down from your high, you realized you were still staring into each other’s eyes. You mouth slightly agape and gasping for air, your brows furrowed and your bodies still connected in the most intimate way. You didn’t want him to withdraw yet. You wanted to feel his release run along your thighs. You wanted to feel dirty like that and at the same time you wanted something else entirely.

Stay close.

Stay together.

My love.

The word kept echoing through your mind like a poem, like a curse.

Like a death warrant.

My love.

He buried his hand in your hair and gently tugged on it.

“That…was…”

You had never seen him speechless before. The sight stirred so much in you.

You idiot girl. He hurt you, he hurt you so terribly and all you wanted right now was him beside you, at all times, maybe with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.

God, you were just as insane as he was. Probably even more so.

He was a psychopath. What was your excuse?

You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts and so you decided to take control a last time. Your head dipped forward and you kissed him. With a tenderness that made your heart ache. And he responded. With a softness that left you breathless.

My love.

Half an hour later, you finally managed to get your hands off of each other. After you finished your bathroom routine, he invited you to the shower with him. You’d join him in a minute, you decided, while you were on your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Your mouth felt dry, your whole body did actually.

You felt sore as hell, but God. God.

The memory of it made you smile. You had never felt more loved in your life. Never felt more special, more desired, more…

A sound made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked up from the ground. What you saw made your heart stop.

The door.

The fucking door.

You mind went blank and your heart stopped beating.

The fucking door was open.

You swallowed thickly. Was it a test? Probably. Did you consider leaving?

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped into the hallway. The front door was open and there was that visitor’s terrace with a glass door attached to it, which led to the great staircase of the apartment complex.

It was a test. Or something equally cruel.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if he truly made a mistake? He was only human after all.

You stared at the glass door like you would have stared at an alien.

This was probably your only ever chance. To flee. Escape.

Get back to…

To what?

To normality, you told yourself.

To safety.

A lump formed in your throat. Did you want that? Did you even want to leave?

Even if it wasn’t a test, did you truly want to leave him?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. It almost felt like acid and it weighed like a heavy stone on your heart. The thought of sleeping alone again, of never seeing his silly smile again. Even the twisted one, you’d miss.

The thought of never feeling his lips on yours again.

His hands in your hair, his voice in your ear.

His everything.

Him.

You were his girl.

You couldn’t just up and leave. What was there in the world for you?

Maybe this was exactly your destiny. Him. Him. Him.

He was all you needed, right? He took care of you. He provided for you.

He loved you. In his own, twisted way.

My love.

You couldn’t, you decided. You couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t ever-

The sound of someone’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, but to your horror, it wasn’t him. Your eyes widened impossibly when you saw the form of a man approaching.

He looked like a janitor or something like that. A man far past his prime with greying hair and a kind smile.

God, you had missed kindness.

But no, no, you were his girl. You were his girl. You wouldn’t ever leave.

You took a step back like a cornered animal as the man approached and said something to you in Korean. When you backed away even more, he stopped and his eyes widened in surprise.

He kept talking to you, kept speaking in that reassuring tone of voice.

“I…don’t…understand.” You breathed out.

You didn’t even realize how you must have looked, terrified and broken. A faint mark on your cheek. Your clothes crumpled. Bite marks, love bites, more marks on your throat.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head to the side.

“Miss-“ He said in a thick, Korean accent. “Miss- The man that’s live here- The man- Is he-“

In that moment, you felt it. His presence was so prominent, you didn’t need to hear him call out to you. You just felt it. He came in, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair wet from the shower. He most likely came to look why you hadn’t come yet.

You quickly spun around and met his gaze, your expression horrified. Your eyes were so expressive.

The door was open. He came by himself. It wasn’t my fault. Please! It wasn’t my fault!

Something hard flashed through his eyes, but it was only visible to you and it was only there for the blink of an eye. And then it was gone and it got replaced by the tight smile.

A tight, polite smile, directed at the janitor in the doorway. He spoke to him in Korean and stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You stared at the ground, completely horrified.

Oh no, you thought.

Oh no. This is it.

_____________________________

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@hayakamis-blog Thank you for your lovely request, I loved the idea and I hope it turned out the way you hoped!

Author's note: I'll be honest with you, guys, this chapter cost me YEARS of my life, omg. I wrote 5000 words yesterday and then realized I didn't like what I was writing, so I deleted everything and did this today instead. I hope it was the right decision! On a super exhausted note, I'll try to answer all of your sweet, lovely messages in time!!! I'm not even exaggerating, a few of them really made me cry. Not almost, but for real. I don't know what I did to deserve all this kindness and love, but I really, really love you all! SO much!

[lycanlure]

Factory Reset

Winter (dom) x Male Reader (sub)

Synopsis : reader here is a gay dude turned straight by dommy bestfriend Minjeong in a drinking session, as she reveals some intimate confessions to you, how reader's body makes her act weird and stuff. How she feels so horny when she sees you using crop-tops and short shorts.

You were always this feminine, and always been exposed to feminine things like, making your hair longer, manicuring, dolls, playing house, and make up and other stuff that makes girls, girls. And you've always been friends with girls, especially your introverted childhood best friend Minjeong.Your Mother typically influenced you but Minjeong technically molded you with the very image you desired.

What's fascinating is that, though Minjeong was surrounded by boys most of her childhood she still held a very strong feminine aura around her. That made you adore her more, platonically.

But for Minjeong, it's different...

She always saw you as more than a friend... She liked you, even though you were different, well... More like, love you. Romantically, and now she might as well confess to you. But that doesn't end there, she has been planning to get you drunk as fuck, and then confess... But why make you drunk first? Her motives are far insidious and disgusting. She had always dreamed of stripping you off of your clothes, revealing your pale and soft skin for her to devour. This started ever since both of you stepped foot in puberty, whilst she helped you be the person you are today. She dreamed of a body that encapsulated her dream lover.

The day that Minjeong will finally confess to you and make you hers has come.

Y/N's POV

"Gosh, is my blush alright?" I sighed as my blush was a bit too light. I turned my attention to Minjeong, who is also prepping herself for today's pictorial. Well it is my birthday and it's gonna be lit! "Hey, is my blush alright?" I asked Minjeong, "Yeah, it's a bit too pale, let me fix it." She answered quickly. As she approached me, her touch was delicate. 'This feeling is a bit weird, sure. This is normal between but her touch for the past few weeks has been a bit too touchy. Like intimate touchy, maybe she's just being caring. Thats all',I thought to myself.

Finally at campus grounds, there was a day long event happening. We tried staying but we got bored. "Ugh, this so fucking boring..." I groaned as I checked through my phone, I could see Minjeong glancing at me by my side. As she was about to speak I cut her off, "Lets go some- oh wait what was that Minjeongie?" I quickly realized she was trying to tell me something. "As I was saying, lets go back to my dorm" She smiled as she checked her phone for the time she quickly added, "Lets go have a drink" she smiles. I thought it was a good idea, but oh boy... This feels like trouble, so I brushed it off. As we bought some booze, and fled to her dorm. I was met with a very strawberry-like scent that enveloped my nose, hugging them softly. I sat at one of her beanie bags and slouched relaxedly. "So, why did you think about getting booze? Trying something new?" You smirked at her, "Um... Y-Yeah and I wanted to tell you something" she responded her head down, mostly being shy. "Ohh~" I sang as she preped our booze. We took sip after sip after sip, I got tipsy but Minjeong? Damn she's tough. "W-Woah, you're not even tipsy yettt~" I groaned as my tipsy-ass getting beaten by someone who just had her first drink ever.

Winter POV

'This is my chance! O-Ok I'm gonna go for it!' I thought to myself, seeing

Y/N so tipsy and weak. I have to seize the opportunity, "So Y/N... I actually like you, like a lot..." I told Y/N as he was fixing his crop-top. "And... Please, can we at least try?" I quickly added. "W-Woah... I've never thought of you actually like me and, I don't know..." He grabbed the hem of his collar. And looked at me, "You know that I'm gay ri-" I cut him off, as I kissed his lips. Pressing them hard, his expression shocked.

As he tried pushing me away, I grabbed both of his hands. Pinning him to the ground, "M-Minjeong, s-stop!" He shouted, as I attacked his lips again. His legs were squirming, also trying to push me away. I stopped kissing him, seeing him so flustered and out of breath only made me eager to make him mine. "Minjeong, w-what has gotten into you?!" Y/N exclaimed, as I ripped his crop-top revealing his lushes pink small nipples.

He tried covering them but I grabbed his hands and pinned them down. Licking his hardened nipples, made him moan. "Nngghh... M-Minjeo- s-stop..." His moans were music to my ears. As it only turned me on, I removed one we of my hands in his hand. I pulled down his short-shorts, revealing a very pink strawberry colored tip.

That was hardened, the size though was no joke... It was the perfect size for me, about 6 inches in length and 2 inches in width. He tried covering them with his unpinned hands but his strength was no match from mine. Focusing back on his nipples again made him shiver, that was enough for him to not resist me anymore. "S-Slow down, Minjeong... Please" his breathing is shaky, I grabbed his waist.

Removing my hands from pinning his other hand, I licked them. They're so tasty... Salty, sweet and so perky. I bit one of them, I heard a hiss from him. That quickly turned me on. His hardened cock still exposed, so I slowly kissed my way down. Kissing his nipples, down to his chest, and then his stomach, down to his waist and then his hardened cock.

"O-Oh, f-fuck... Minjeong, slow do-" As I put my mouth down on his cock, it was so hard yet the texture was soft. It tasted salty, yet it left an addictive taste. When I continued to taste him, his moans were starting to get louder.

Authors POV

"M-Minjeongiee~, g-guh... Hah" His voice clearly in ecstasy, he held Minjeongs head to keep on attacking his member. Minjeong feasted on him, as the flavor of him only made Minjeong more and more addicted to him. "Ahh, C-Cummi- M-Minjeong! p-please s-stop!" Without warning Minjeong fastened her pace, making him reach his orgasm. His orgasm made him shake compulsively, as Minjeong's tongue swirled around him. Hr continued to orgasm, Minjeong drank everything. She stood up, removing her lower garments. Revealing a dripping entrance... She proceeded to grab you by the hair, moving it up and down. Giving you the taste of a woman that longed for you, for so many years. "Y-Y/N t-this feels so g-good" Her voice shaken, the fact that your face is being use for her pleasure. Your voice is dampened by her entrance, juices that leaked out from her you desperately choke on, you however tried to get a hold of her, trying to push her away. But her resilience and determination alone, made your defenses weak. As her climax was near, she pushed you deeper into her, making you savour everything that leaked out from her. She exploded, squirts of her juice came flying through your throat and nose, making you gag. Of course you can't drink it all, some you spat out and most of it you drank.

Her leg shaken, as her hand dropped your hair. Your weakened state left you open for her next assault, "M-Minjeong..." You heave your breath, "S-Sorry... Y/N its ju-" Winter got caught off as Y/N's hand was on her hands... Winter was shocked how the one that she just assaulted held her hand so softly... "I-Its alright, you're drunk ri-" Y/N's lips were yet attacked again. Winter sensing Y/N is enjoying this, she left no time for him to finish his sentences. "Y-Yeah..." As her hand floated on his crotch again, she moved her hand hastily. Catching Y/N off guard, she inivetibly harden the kiss. Making Y/N weak again, she then moved herself. Aligning her entrance down to her sexually confused friend. "I'll make you mine..." Winter sounded desperate, "G-Go ahead" Y/N's voice shaky and high...

As Winter lowered herself, pleasure struck the two. Stunning them for a second, they both look at each other. Winter looked like she had just hit the jackpot, Y/N looking more like a renewed person. Both of them had different thoughts yet both shared the same goal right now, to feel each other's love. As Winter ravaged Y/N's cock, Y/N felt Winters tightness embracing him. His perfectly shaped cock drove inside Winter, making them both moan. Winter hugged Y/N, as Y/N did the same. Both felt tremendous pleasure, Winter pushed Y/N down. "I'm going to ride you and turn you into my bitch" Winter said coldly, as Y/N just smiled and kisses her hands. "Sure, make me your bitch" Both smiled as they shared a kiss with each other... Winter now riding Y/N, this sensation made Winter more and more addicted to this kind of act. Y/N moaning like a bitch in heat, Winter fasten her pace as both are nearing... "Fuck... Feels... So... Amazing" Winter moving up and down vigorously as Y/N lay down. Drooling as his limit has already reached. Both of them are in a euphoric state, Winter and Y/N jolted as both came to their climax. Winter collapsed in Y/N's soft and pale chest, Y/N cathing and hugging Winter in the process, "W-Wow... I never thought I could do it with a woman..." Y/N gasping for air, "M-Me too, I thought I can never do this with you..." Winter having the same state with Y/N. Both looked at each other for one-last time, "I love you" both kissed and embraced each other. As the sun rises, both felt something new inside of them.

Y/N thinking he'd be this person to have a man loving him, instead the woman that was with him throughout his journey, was the only person that truly wanted and understood him, loved him more than anyone.

While Winter thought the love of her life will be taken away by some random person yet Winter took his heart...

Many Years had passed and both had children, 3 in fact. Both of them are still surprised to this day that both of them are able to be together, forever.

The End

[bonus-links]

IMMA BE THE FIRST TO ASK (I HOPE) CUZ IM LITERALLY CHOMPING AT THE BIT DIRECTORS COMMENTARY PLEASE

GANON??? THE EYES???? BANGER UPDATE 👹

the people have spoken and they want director's commentary (this isn't even all of them lol) OKAY HERE WE GO

the original draft of this scene was much shorter, and Loft actually didn't say anything at all in it. As I kept making the chapter it started to feel weird that he would just. Let Ganondorf say his piece without contributing anything. i like this version of the scene much better

listen. I love WW Ganondorf. He's my favorite Ganondorf. I was going to find a way to fit him into this chapter no matter what

in particular, I love that you get a sense from WW Ganondorf that he is, on some level, sympathetic to Link. Or if not sympathetic, understanding of his place in all this. He tells Link that his gods have abandoned him, that he has not particular quarrel with him, etc. But ultimately it doesn't matter. If this is who the gods have sent to stand in his way, so be it. Essentially, it's not my fault the gods are so callous as to send a child after me.

we're going w the canon that WW Ganondorf is the same as OOT, or at least remembers being him. Don't ask me how. Nintendo doesn't know either

big ol eyeball. which could mean nothing

How does Ganondorf recognize Loft? by that stupid hat. jokes aside he doesn't know Which Link Specifically Loft is, but he's smart enough to figure out that he's a hero of some sort.

Likewise, Loft is smart enough to figure it out as well. He's spent a lot of his chapter thinking about Ganondorf, and if you'll recall from Ch1, he knows from Zelda that Ganon once had a mortal form. I think, from Loft's perspective, he has a hunch that this Ganon figure is the mortal reincarnation of Demise, the way Zelda is the mortal reincarnation of Hylia. I wanna emphasize that's what HE thinks might be going on based on his experiences. He's not the knower of all things. He has a conspiracy board in his mind

the face of a guy who's like. I am not going to be lectured to about morality from the King of Evil. I was very excited to let Loft be snarky at long last. But he also, notably, doesn't push back against what Ganondorf is saying that hard. He doesn't even say that he's wrong, just implies that he's probably a hypocrite. In fact, a lot of this update is about what Loft DOESN'T say or acknowledge

Ganondorf's opening line is about how much he hates that statue of the hero of time, because it's "such grandeur for a mere child". I think he means that at face value, but he's also making another point— the hero of time was a child, but they're not going to depict him that way in his monument. It's honestly sort of ambiguous with the actual model because of ww's style, but it looks like adult proportions to me. The story Wake grew up with calls him a child, but his monument in the castle is of an adult. That was the idea behind this set of panels, the parts of the Hero of Time's story that aren't going to be put on the pedestal

speaking of that I realized making this update that I literally. forgot the pedestal. I just didn't draw it all this time. in my defense the castle in no clip looks like this. no statue or pedestal

except I recently found out by accident that he's literally. under the floor. what the fuck

ANYWAY. I really liked the symmetry of Ganondorf turing to stone at the end of the dream. He won't get any perfect monuments made to him. Also, looks like there's a suspicious lack of water in the underwater castle. which could mean nothing

I'm not gonna comment too much on other details, because i've got to keep some of my secrets. I do think that this update gives a lot away HAHA though that was kind of on purpose. We're entering year 3 of this comic and we're finally starting to get places lolol

WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT loft looks the same way he did when he last touched the triforce

and we've seen a border similar to this before haven't we

that's all i got for now, thanks everybody! im having a blast reading ur comments <3

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

No Idea

Summary: You hate Natalie, and Natalie hates you. You had no idea what that would bring you. Fem reader. 3.7k words. not proofread.

Warnings: smut. r! receiving, fingering. honestly pretty tame.

Hey so this is my first smut on this blog, and only the second smut i've ever written so please be nice to me

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hooking up with Natalie Scatorccio was not something you ever saw yourself doing. 

You’d spent the first three and a half years (give or take a few months) of high school absolutely hating her. She never made it to class on time, if she showed up at all. She smoked in the bathrooms, was always high, or drunk, or both. You just… weren’t like that. 

It was a weird sort of rivalry. A push and pull that everyone knew was happening. You’d make a comment about her needing to get her shit together. She’d say something about you loosening up. 

The thing was, you did know how to loosen up. You went to parties, hung out with friends. Things like that. Sure, you could be uptight sometimes. It wasn’t a bad idea to want to get into a good college. School was important to you. Clearly it wasn’t to Natalie, and that’s what pissed you off. 

In reality, you had no idea why you hated her so much. You told yourself it was because of her “I don’t give a shit” attitude, but deep down you knew that wasn’t why. Maybe it was the fact that she never seemed to care what anyone thought of her. Maybe it was her ability to fuck whoever she wanted. Maybe it was because, deep down, you were jealous of her. 

You pushed those thoughts away as you sat on the armrest of Jackie’s couch, watching the party going on around you. It wasn’t often that you came to these things, preferring to watch a movie by yourself, or maybe see a couple friends on a friday night. Jackie had begged you, though, reminding you that she never got to throw parties like this. So you agreed, putting on a party-worthy outfit, and forcing yourself to attend. 

Natalie had arrived a few moments before, your spot on the couch awarding you a front-row seat to her entrance. She looked good, you couldn’t deny that. Her messy hair fell down her shoulders, eyes rimmed in black eyeliner and dark brown eyeshadow, jeans ripped in all the right places, leather jacket adding to her air of not giving a shit. 

You looked down at your skirt and sweater, feeling prudish and self-conscious. Sure, you hated the girl, but you had to admit that she was infinitely cooler than you were. Well, at least in your mind. 

Jackie nudges you with her foot, giving you a look. “Are you okay? You went silent all of a sudden.” 

That snapped you out of your thoughts, remembering that you were at a party and definitely shouldn’t have been so focused on Natalie. 

“Yeah, sorry. Zoned out. You know how I am.” You gave Jackie a smile, trying to push the thoughts of Natalie and that outfit out of your mind. How could someone so infuriating look so good?

Jackie rolls her eyes, sighing softly. “Do you need another drink? Might make you loosen up a bit. And I think Jeff has weed.” 

“I’m fine, Jackie. I can handle a party, Jesus.” 

She puts her hands up in mock surrender, not liking the edge in your voice. “Damn, okay. I’m getting another drink. You sure you don’t want something?”

You think for a second before nodding. “Okay, yeah. Just whatever. Nothing too strong.” 

Jackie nods, knowing you weren’t a big drinker. A moment later, she disappeared into the kitchen for your drinks, leaving you alone on the couch. Briefly, you wondered where Shauna was. Normally, she’d be wherever you and Jackie were. Well, more specifically, wherever Jackie was. She’d become a bit more independent recently, but it was still odd to not see her glued to Jackie’s side at parties like this. 

You sat like that for a while, bored and waiting for Jackie. It shouldn’t have taken her more than a few minutes to come back, but you’d been waiting for almost twenty minutes. Slightly annoyed, you decided to look for her, wondering if she got distracted by Jeff or one of her teammates. It wasn’t like her to forget about you, but it also wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility. 

Standing up from the armrest you were perched on, you made your way to the kitchen. Moving around the house wasn’t an easy feat. Bodies were everywhere, constantly bumping into you or blocking your way. When you finally pushed your way into the kitchen, Jackie was nowhere to be found. Sighing, you decided to search the rest of the house. 

It didn’t take too long to clear the entire first floor, finding her nowhere. Maybe she’d snuck up to her room for a bit of reprieve. As subtly as possible, you made your way up the stairs and to Jackie’s bedroom. You opened the door without knocking, which was a mistake. There, on Jackie’s bed, sat Jackie and Shauna. In the middle of making out. 

Neither of them had looked up when you had opened the door, so as quietly as possible, you backed away, closing the door. You had no idea how to react to that. Of course you knew they were close. They’d been best friends for over a decade. It was just so unexpected to stumble upon them like that. 

How long had they been together? Did they kiss like that at every party you weren’t at? Were they even officially together? You had so many questions. 

Instead of waiting, or going back into the bedroom and asking questions, you went back downstairs. You were sure they’d leave the bedroom eventually. Plus, it really wasn’t any of your business. If Jackie and Shauna wanted to kiss, they could kiss. It wasn’t your place to judge. 

You beelined for the kitchen as soon as you got downstairs, mixing your own drink, since Jackie had decided making out with Shauna was more important. She couldn’t have at least waited until she brought your drink? It wouldn’t have taken that long. 

That’s when you saw her. Natalie. Smoking on the porch, completely alone. You briefly wondered where her friends were, those boys you couldn’t remember the names of. 

No, you didn’t give a shit about Natalie or her friends. Why were you suddenly so focused on her? 

Maybe you just wanted to show her that you could loosen up. Show her that you weren’t just some kind of uptight bitch. You knew how to have fun. 

Before you could think any more about it, you stepped out onto Jackie’s back porch, drink in hand. You weren’t going to go up to her. No, she would come to you. Come over to make fun of you, jab at the fact that you were finally at a party. 

She looked up when you stepped outside, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Jackie? Aren’t you two basically attached?” 

You roll your eyes, looking her up and down. You weren’t mean, no. Not really. But you absolutely could be a bitch when you wanted to be. 

“She’s busy. Not that you need to know that.” 

Nat smirks, sitting on the porch railing, cigarette in hand. “You know, you don’t always have to be an asshole. Jackie isn’t here to see. You could be nice to me.” 

“Yeah, like you’re all rainbows and butterflies.”

“Maybe I’d be nice to you if you were nice to me.”

“I don’t believe that. It’s biologically impossible for you.”

She laughs, really laughs, and you crack a smile. Sure, you hated the girl. But she could banter, and you liked that. 

“C’mon, princess. You never know until you try.” 

“Princess? Really?”

“Prissy. Uptight. Rich. You seem like a princess to me.” Natalie shrugs, still smirking at you. 

“See, this is why I don’t believe you’d be nice to me,” you reply, taking a step closer to her. 

“Never said being a princess was a bad thing, princess. I have a thing for girls like that.” 

You make a face at that, unsure if she’s hitting on you or making fun of you. 

“Why, so you can corrupt them?”

She laughs again, getting down from the railing and taking a step towards you. You suddenly process how close she is. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her from up close. You’d never wanted to, before now. 

“Wanna find out, princess?” She leaned closer, so close that your faces were barely an inch apart. You wondered if anyone inside was looking at you. You wondered what they were thinking if they were. 

“Fuck off, Natalie. I’m not into girls.”

Natalie backs up, looking confused for a moment before regaining her composure. “You sure? You’ve been all but obsessed with me since we were freshmen. That doesn’t really scream “I’m a straight girl” to me.” 

“I’m not obsessed with you.” You weren’t. You hated her. Found her annoying. You weren’t into her. Were you?

“Yeah? You’re not? I mean, you make comments about me, or to me, every time you see me. You saw me alone on this porch and decided to come out here for no reason. Seems like obsession to me.”

“I needed some air,” you lied, ignoring how spot on she was. 

“Sure you did. You know what I think? You’re into me, and you say all that shit about me because you can’t stand that you want to fuck me. Because you do, right?”

“Jesus, Natalie? What is this? Why are you so convinced I’m into you? I’m not.” 

“Just admit it, princess. I saw the way you were looking at me when I got here. I saw you go all silent on Jackie. I see the way you look at me in class. I’m not stupid. And neither are you. You’re smarter than this, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, fine. You’re hot. Is that what you wanted from me? I can think you’re hot without being attracted to you.”

“Sure, you could think that. But you don’t. You’re so afraid of being judged that you won’t even acknowledge it to yourself.” 

You can’t deal with this anymore. Sure, okay. Natalie was hot. You weren’t going to deny that. But you weren’t into her, not like that. You hated her. Right? Yeah, you did. It wasn’t any sort of attraction that made you act the way you did. It was pure dislike. 

“Don’t have a rebuttal for that, do you princess? Is it because I’m right?”

“Why are you pushing this so fucking hard? Do you just want me to say I’m into you? Would that give you some sort of satisfaction? What is it? Are you just fucking with me because you can? What is this?” You’re getting increasingly angry now, just wanting her to stop fucking with you. 

“Maybe I’m into you, too. Maybe I want you to finally admit it so I don’t feel like an idiot for wanting to fuck someone who hates me so much.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, like she didn’ just all but admit she wants you. 

“Then just say that! Don’t play fucked up mind tricks on me!”

“What’s the fun in that? Besides, you’re hot when you’re mean and angry.” Natalie steps forward again, getting into your face. Close enough for you to kiss her. Maybe you should. Maybe it would get her to shut up. 

So that’s what you do. You lean in, closing the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips firmly against hers. It’s odd, for a moment. Kissing a girl was different. Weird. Not in a bad way. Her lips were softer than you expected, and tasted like cigarette smoke and… strawberries? You didn’t hate the combination. 

Your mouth opened slightly, and Natalie took this as an invitation to bite your bottom lip. It wasn’t hard, just enough to let you know that somehow, she was in charge here. You kind of liked it. Involuntarily, you let out a small moan. 

Maybe you were into her. 

It didn’t last long before you pulled away, but you didn’t want to stop. Not really. You just didn’t want to make out with her where anyone else could see. 

“My car. Now. We’re going to my place.”

“Finally admitting you’re into me, princess?”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m leaving you here and you can imagine what could’ve happened for the rest of your life.” You glare at her, leading her around Jackie’s house and to your car. 

She rolls her eyes, but does shut up. As soon as you get into your car, you want to drag her into the backseat and kiss until your lips are swollen, but you know you have to wait. It’ll be better in a bed, anyway. 

The drive to your house is full of anticipation. Both of you are completely silent, no attempts at jokes or banter. No insults thrown at each other. Just the thrum of energy throughout the car. You both want this more than anything. 

It doesn’t take long for you to pull into your driveway, grateful that you don’t live too far from Jackie. You’re not sure you could’ve waited much longer. 

“My parents aren’t home, luckily for us,” you say, putting the car into park and unbuckling your seatbelt.

Natalie nods, getting out of the car and following you into your house, up to your bedroom. As soon as the door is closed, she’s on you again. She seems almost hungry, pushing you down onto your bed, barely giving you time to adjust before straddling your hips. 

Her lips meet yours, and she takes charge. The softness of your previous kiss is gone, replaced by a clear need. As soon as your lips meet, her teeth are pulling at your bottom lip, tongue running across the skin. You moan into her mouth, the roughness of the kiss causing you to lose yourself. You can already feel heat pooling in your core, and you haven’t even done anything yet. 

Natalie’s hands grip your hips as you shove your tongue into her mouth. It doesn’t take long before she sucks harshly on it, making you lose your train of thought. She’s not going to let you take charge, you realize. This is her show, and you let her have it. Briefly, you wonder if she often gets to be the powerful one in these encounters. 

She pulls away, and you instinctively chase her lips, whining when you can’t reach them. She laughs, running her hands up and down your sides. “Eager, huh?”

You groan, embarrassed at how pathetic you’re acting. “Fuck off. Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it too.”

Natalie laughs again, leaning down to nip at your jawline. “I was. I am.”

She continues to kiss and bite at your jaw, making her way down to your neck. Your hands find her hair, needing something to hold onto. You’ve never been this intimate before, never wanted as much contact as you do now. 

“Fuck, Nat-” you gasp as she finds a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, sucking on it. You know there’s going to be a mark, and you silently revel at the idea. 

“You like that?” She asks, sucking harder at your skin. Her hands slide under your shirt, tracing along the skin of your stomach.

Your only response is a soft whine, almost a moan. Yes, you like it. 

She continues with the onslaught, kissing all over the skin of your neck. Your hips stutter upwards, searching for a friction you aren’t getting. Your underwear is almost uncomfortably wet, a feeling you haven’t experienced before. 

“Be patient, princess. We’ll get there.”

“F- fuck, okay. Yeah.” You’d do anything for her at this point. 

“Can I take this off?” She asks, fingers toying with the hem of your sweater. You nod a bit too eagerly, and she smiles softly. God, how could you have ever hated her?

Natalie makes quick work of the sweater, pulling it up over your head and tossing it onto the floor. She’s almost reverent as she takes in your bare stomach, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

“Fuck,” she breathes, leaning down to kiss the top of your chest. As she does, her fingers find the clasp of your bra, tossing that to the side as well. As soon as the offending fabric was out of the way, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue circling it as she rolled the other between her fingers. 

You moan at the sensation, fingers tightening in her hair.

“Natalie-” 

She moves to the other side, rolling her tongue around your other nipple. You can barely think at this point, every thought in your head is of her. Her mouth, her hair, her face. Everything. 

She continues for a few more moments, just lavishing your chest before sitting up, admiring your flushed face. She pulls her own shirt and bra off, and your hands immediately find her waist. 

“God…” you trace her skin gently, memorizing every freckle. She looks like a painting. 

Natalie looks self-conscious for a moment, clearly unused to someone looking at her with so much adoration. She lets you continue for a moment before leaning back down and capturing your lips in a kiss. This time, it’s soft. Loving, almost. Still passionate, but in a different way. Like she wants to memorize the feeling of your lips. 

Her hand slides up your skirt, teasing at the wet patch on your underwear. You gasp, and it quickly turns into a moan. Slowly, torturously slowly, she slides your underwear down your legs until all that’s left is your skirt. 

Nat’s fingers tease at your entrance, making your hips grind into her hand. She laughs a bit against your lips, and you smile. She keeps teasing, never touching where you need her to, as you get increasingly desperate. High-pitched whines keep falling from your lips, soft whimpers of “more” and “please”. 

After she’s tortured you for long enough, reducing you to nothing but small gasps, she finally pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud moan. She gives you a second to adjust before curing them upwards, and you press your face into the curve of her neck, muffling the sounds you can’t help but make. 

Your hips grind into her palm, and she curls her fingers again. Nat’s thumb finds your clit as she continues to move her fingers inside you. You inhale sharply at the sensation, the coil in your stomach getting tighter. 

“You’re doing so well, princess,” Nat murmurs into your ear, making you moan. She keeps her pace, slowly working you up further. She’s enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought just makes you hornier. 

“F- fuck, fuck- Nat,  faster-” You can barely form words, you’re so focused on the feeling of her fingers inside you, her thumb circling your clit. Your fingers grasp at her hair, her hips, anything you can reach that will help to ground you. 

She obliges, fingers moving slightly faster, thumb putting more pressure on your clit. Natalie’s whispering little praises into your ear, which serves to heighten your need. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time. Your hips continually grind up into her hand, searching for more pressure, begging for release. 

Nat can tell you’re getting close, focusing entirely on making you cum. Her fingers reach deeper inside you, finding that spongy spot that makes you see stars. It doesn’t take much after that, her movements purposeful. 

You can feel the coil in your stomach snap, finally cumming after what felt like an eternity. Your mind went completely blank, moaning into Natalie’s neck. Her fingers continued, working you through your orgasm. 

She gives you a moment to relax, your head falling back onto the pillows, before she removes her fingers. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, eyes falling shut. 

“Holy shit,” you mumble, still coming down from your high. 

Natalie laughs, lying down next to you. “So you are into me.” 

You groan, too exhausted to do much else. “God, fuck off. Yes, I’m into you. But in my defense, I didn’t realize until I kissed you.” 

“You kissed me, then realized you were into me? I feel like that normally happens the other way around.”

“I kissed you to shut you up, I didn’t think I’d like… feel anything.” 

She laughs, pulling the blanket up over the both of you. It feels… nice. Having her in your room, having her curled up next to you. It was odd, how a few hours earlier you hated her more than anyone, and now she was in your bed. 

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that so much of the hate was jealousy. How annoyed you got when you saw her with her latest hookup, how you wished you could be as relaxed as she was. 

“Hey. You okay? You’re not like, freaking out on me, are you?” She asked, looking up at you. 

“No, just thinking. Don’t worry.” 

She nods, sitting up. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” you say, a bit too quickly. And it’s the truth. You don’t want her to leave. You want her to stay here, with you. And it scares you.

Nat laughs, falling onto the pillows again. “You know, you don’t have to like, figure all this shit out now. Just enjoy it, at least for now. You just had amazing sex, princess. No need for you to be having a crisis over it.”

You don’t laugh, not yet, but you do crack a smile at that. “I just… I don’t know. I had this idea of myself, who I was and what I wanted. Now you’re here, and we had sex. And I liked it. And I’d want to do it again. But it changes everything. I’m not who I was this morning, and I don’t know how to process that.” 

She’s silent, and you’re terrified that you scared her off by being so vulnerable. “Sorry. Ignore that. I’m just thinking too much.” 

Her hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t apologize. You’re freaked out, it’s normal. Just try to relax. It won’t kill you. Well, knowing you, it might, but try anyway.”

That breaks you out of your spiral, and you laugh. She’s right. You could deal with everything later. Right now, you have a pretty girl in your bed, a pretty girl who clearly likes you as much as you like her. And you wanted to enjoy that.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Have a Nice Vacation (NSFW)

Read on AO3.

Summary: The White Lotus was boring. The ocean, food, nor pool could make up for the gaping deficiency in what you’d really come here to seek: the men.

But this new man was easily in his late fifties: a flash of white edged his sideburns, his hair greying but still thick and full, lines swept into his forehead. A familiar shadow hung over him, a manifestation of unsatisfied anxiety, crinkling at the corners of his eyes—and his eyes. Large, pale blue, stark against the rich-man-tan so many of his ilk maintained. Busy with selfish concern.

He was perfect.

Words: 6500

Warnings: daddy kink, older man/younger woman, infidelity

Characters: Timothy Ratliff x Reader

A/N: Hi, this is me taking a break from the porn I'm writing to write new, other, different porn.

I saw Jason Isaacs' (prosthetic) cock and I simply could not get this idea out of my head. I've always dreamed of being a famous OnlyFans creator but I've neither the tits nor the patience to market myself. But I can live vicariously in reader's stead.

Hope you all enjoyed!! I sure had fun writing it, LOL. <3

All things considered, the White Lotus was boring.

Yes, when you rose in the morning to gaze out of your villa, you met a vision of the sky consuming the sea. Yes, the food had managed to fill your stomach without bringing on bloat. And yes, the pool temperature stole the endless waves of sweat from your skin. But neither the ocean, food, nor pool could make up for the gaping deficiency in what you’d really come here to seek: the men.

And every single one of them made you want to fucking gag.

Your current vomit inspiration was the man who’d stretched himself out on the lounge chair next to you like a proud lion. The moment he’d groaned, pulled his arms over his head to display his chest, you'd decided to check your recent subscribers.

For some reason, that wasn't deterring him.

“Finally, someone with some sense,” he said.

You snorted like mucus had caught in your throat. The trends on your most recent posts were pointing down and there was no sign of increasing interest.

If you didn't turn it around soon, you’d need to start actually trying.

Horrific.

The man laughed. “Yeah, I didn't wanna ditch the phone, but my dad made us.” He sighed, curling into his side to face you, sun-bleached brown hair sweeping his green eyes. “You here by yourself?”

You glimpsed him from behind your sunglasses. He wasn't bad looking. But getting past the obnoxious swagger would be a challenge. And he wasn't the type of man you made content with, anyway.

“Saxon,” he said, holding out his hand.

Puckering your lips, you looked pointedly at his hand before returning your attention to your phone. He withdrew it, laughing again.

“All right, all right.”

Even without looking at him, you felt the slime of his eyes trickle over your body, eat up every hill of your flesh, and consume the complex collection of straps making up what you called your bathing suit. He clucked his tongue, sitting up.

“Hey,” Saxon said, cocking his head. “Aren't you EasyDoesThem?”

You released the slightest exhale. Fuck.

“You are!” he said. “I thought I recognized you. Holy shit, do you want to film something together?” His voice dropped, and he sat up straighter. “I'm totally down. I can get my brother to film it, hold on—Lochy! Come here!”

“Wow. Actually, I have to get going,” you said, giving him a tight smile as you got to your feet. “Thanks so much for the offer, though.”

Saxon groaned playfully. “Aw, come on. Really?” His neck spun on a swivel. “Seriously, at least meet my brother, he’s a total virgin and it would be—”

“Later, Saxon.” With a swish of your hips, you abandoned him to whatever inclinations he’d dreamed of dragging his brother into, making your way to the bar.

There was no drink that appealed to you with men like him around, but your skin was prickling from the sun and you needed something to lower your core temperature. You jerked a chair free and plopped into it, requesting the lightest and fruitiest mocktail available before surveying your fellow patrons.

More men. At least these ones were over fifty—far more viable for potential content—but they were engrossed in conversation with each other, exchanging words like liquidity and amortization and other terms that you’d rather burn alive in this sun than become familiar with. Chewing on your lip, you pulled out your phone, deciding if you couldn’t be generating new subscribers, you could at least interact with the ones you had.

You took a selfie, tapped open the app and scrolled to the Polls section, typing out a quick and stupid question with some quick and stupid answers.

Thailand is HOT. 🥵🥵🥵 I can barely keep this on! What should I wear when I fuck my next Daddy? 💦🍆🔥😈 ⭕ Bikini ⭕ Lingerie ⭕ His clothes ⭕ Nothing

You attached the photo and hit submit, shaking your head. This was pathetic. At least that would keep them busy for a few hours while you tried to figure out what to do.

The bartender placed your drink in front of you with a pretty clink. As you went to take a sip, a new man took a seat next to you with a weighty, exhausted sigh. You frowned, peeked up from the rim of your glass. Stared.

This man was easily in his late fifties: a flash of white edged his sideburns, his hair greying but still thick and full, lines swept into his forehead. A familiar shadow hung over him, a manifestation of unsatisfied anxiety, crinkling at the corners of his eyes—and his eyes. Large, pale blue, stark against the rich-man-tan so many of his ilk maintained. Busy with selfish concern.

He was perfect.

You sat up, leaning towards the bar and into his line of sight, arms pushing your tits together. “Hi there,” you chirped. “Another day in paradise, hm?”

The man didn’t even spare your tits a passing glance. Considering how much effort it had been to pull this suit on, you were a little offended. What he did glance at, though, was your phone. His gaze narrowed.

“Is that your phone?” he asked, in an accent that was as southern as it was affluent. “We’re not supposed to have those out here.”

You pursed your lips, shrugged your shoulder. “Probably.” Holding it up, you presented it to the bar. “I’d like to see them take it from me, though.”

“Right…” Those gorgeous eyes of his settled on yours, then your phone, and he raised his eyebrows, as if to deny himself a line of thought. “You have a nice vacation.”

“Hey, hey.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, throat thickening at how sturdy and solid he felt underneath his linen shirt. “Don’t be shy.”

The man twisted in his seat, leering at your hand like it had pinched him. “What?”

“Come on,” you said, rubbing a small circle into his shoulder. “I can tell you wanted to ask me something.”

“No, I…” He stared at your hand. With a frown, his jaw shifted, and he bit back a snarl, rubbing his brow in exasperation. “Would you mind?” he said, like it pained him to ask. “If I used your phone?”

You smiled. He was hooked. “What for?” you purred, shifting your arms so your breasts became more pronounced.

Despite this, he still did not acknowledge you even had breasts. “I need to call someone,” he said. “It’ll be quick.”

“International?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“That’s no problem.” Humming, you took a sip of your drink. “But we’ll need to head back to my villa for it. I don’t use the cell service for international calls. Just wifi.”

The man considered you, his eyes glued to yours. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s the only place I can actually use the internet,” you lied.

Then, miraculously, his gaze flicked to your tits. To your face. To your tits again. He sighed, voice whittling to a whisper as he displayed his left hand. “I’m married.”

You studied him. I’m married was a desperate protest by men of his ilk. It was the acknowledgement that he would be tempted, the demand that your morality win out over his own—a foisting of responsibility in your hands, as these men had been aching to rebuke that burden at first opportunity.

But you didn’t particularly care about the marriages of men who were willing to utter this sentence. Nor did you care to bear any of the terrible weight he considered fidelity. What you cared about, to be very honest, was getting his cock inside of you, and getting it on film.

The promise of the first typically spurred men into agreeing to the second.

Eyes wide like a fawn’s, you replied, “What are you saying? I’m talking about using my phone.” Shrugging to yourself, you started to place your phone into your handbag. “I guess you’re just as weird about this digital detox stuff as everyone else…”

“No, no, wait,” he grumbled, and you paused, eyeing him. He surveyed the group, drawing a slow breath. You lingered on how it swelled his broad chest, his stomach, your thighs pressing together. With an exhale and flourish of his hand, he shooed away the last of his restraint. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

You laughed. “Awesome.” Standing, you held out your hand, giving him both your name and your most charming smile.

He stared, sneered at what you could only assume to be his own weakness, and gripped your hand with his own. “Tim.”

“Nice to meet you, Tim,” you replied, giggling. “Very firm handshake.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, brows raising as he averted his gaze. “Thanks.”

Giving him a final grin, you strode past him, calling, “Follow me!”

The return to your villa was longer than you would’ve liked. You’d made comments along the way, receiving nothing but short, detached engagement from Tim throughout the journey. This was typical, you thought, of men considering whether or not they’d betray their marriage vows—or, at least, men who were pretending to consider it.

Regardless of their presentation, a sense of entitlement ran in canyons through the blood of men like Tim; a desire to obtain anything forbidden to the plebian, whether that be luxury, or freedom, or the soft, naked body of a woman half his age. Even if he’d gone his entire life never believing he’d seek comfort from anyone other than his wife, there came the question most men asked when presented the opportunity…

Well, why the fuck not?

You sauntered into your villa, holding the door open for him as he stalked inside, his neck twisting as if to make sure you were alone.

“It's just me staying here,” you said, shutting the door behind you. “Don't worry.”

“Yeah.” He held out his hand expectantly. “Is it connected to wifi, yet?” he asked. “Your phone?”

You stopped yourself from frowning. For a man nervous about following a woman in a bikini alone to her villa, he certainly seemed preoccupied with anything except said woman.

“Let me look.” You pulled it out and pretended to check before presenting it to him, unlocked. “Yep! You're good to go.”

“Thanks.” Tim grabbed it from you and started tapping away. “So you're staying here by yourself?” he asked as if the answer mattered less than anything he'd ever inquired about in his life.

“Mhm.” You decided to turn around and bend over, pulling the straps from your sandals. “Just me.”

“Uh huh.” He cursed under his breath and then cleared his throat. “Awfully young to afford a place like this all by yourself.”

With a wiggle of your hips, you stood, casting a glance over your shoulder. “Are you asking me what I do for work, Tim?”

Tim did not reply. He scrolled through something on your phone, his face scrunching in irritation. “God Almighty,” he growled. “Dammit.”

“I thought you said you had to call someone.”

“No, I didn't,” he replied, still scrolling. He rubbed at his brow like a farmer who'd just finished ploughing a field. “Lord…”

You actually allowed yourself to frown. Maybe he was one of those social media addicts getting bent out of shape over a Twitter war he was losing. Maybe he'd needed to check the stock market for his amortization or his liquidity or whatever. Either way, you were a little bit over it.

“Hey,” you said, walking over to him and running a finger down his arm. “Why don't we put the phone down and I can show you the view around here?”

He glimpsed you, scanned your figure. Resumed reading. “Sure. In a second.”

“Aw, come on,” you said, shifting your weight in a way that made your tits bounce. A teasing smile pulled at your cheeks. “The reviews of the latest Marvel movie can’t be that bad.”

Tim’s eyes widened. His jaw slackened. “Shit,” he hissed. “God-fucking-dammit!”

You retreated a step. There was a rash growing on his neck; his knuckles were starting to punch through his skin. This was way more than infidelity anxiety. Way, way more than you'd been prepared to soothe with your pussy.

“Uh. Everything all right, Tim?”

He cursed again. “No, everything is not fucking all right.” Head falling back, he rubbed his brow again, staring into the ceiling. “I'm fucked. I'm fucked!”

You swallowed. All right. This was a mistake. You'd misread him entirely.

“Why don't I just…” You tiptoed toward him, reaching for the phone. “Take that back—”

“Fuck the damn phone!” He met your gaze, his eyes pale with terror. “You don't get it, I—”

“You're right, I don't, and—”

Your phone hit the floor. “I'm fucked!” Tim grasped your shoulders, shaking you like a stringless marionette. “Everything is fucking fucked!”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face. He stilled.

Panting, his focus fell to the walls, the floor, your feet, traveling up your bare legs, your thighs, your stomach, stopping at your chest.

One of your tits had popped free from its binding. Your nipple poked out, pert and ripe. Breath rolling through you, you stared at his face, watched as the panic, the fury in his gaze hooked onto a different avenue of release, ice blue melting to something molten. Mercurial. Urgent.

“S-sorry,” he muttered, his hands falling from your shoulders, skimming the tops of your arms.

You swallowed. There was calculated risk, here. But the strength of his grip, the smooth plane of his palms on your skin, the primal spark in those eyes—your belly tightened with a low pull of its own, willing to ignite.

(And dear God, would this be good content.)

Breath held, you stepped closer, ghosting your fingertips down his side.

“It's… all right,” you said. “Are you… uh… Everything good?”

Tim stared at you like a tiger with taut haunches. His attention switched again to the phone on the ground, jaw clenching as he considered it. Then his eyes trailed a long, languid journey up your body once more, lingering on the curve of your hips, the supple flesh swelling between the gaps in your swimsuit. Your exposed breast.

His mouth parted. His throat bobbed. Glimpsing the phone a final time, he met your gaze.

“Fuck it,” he said, and clutched both cheeks of your ass as he captured your mouth with his.

You groaned, clasping both sides of his face, flattening yourself along his frame, seeking connection with him at every new opportunity his body offered. Growling, Tim stuffed his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss to something filthy and desperate seconds after it had begun. His fingers dug into your backside, he tugged your pelvis to his, and he rocked against you, holding you there, like he was grounding himself to you, grounding himself to this reality.

Fingers running through his hair, you met him in kind, licking into his mouth, rolling your hips so he could feel the heat of your cunt against his growing need. The scents of honeydew and aftershave flooded your nose, the pulse between your thighs came alive. You curled a leg around him, trapping him to you while you teased thumbs over the shell of his ears, earning a jerk of his body, a broken kiss, a deep, trembling groan.

Tim hunched over you, found himself nestled in your throat and took your bare skin as an invitation. His lips latched to your pulse, kissing, suckling, his hands caressing your sides, squeezing every new offering of flesh it found.

“Fuck,” you whispered, looping your arms under his so you clung to his back. “Oh, fuck, yes—”

“Where’s the bedroom?” he murmured against your neck.

You laughed. Why did men like him always prefer the bedroom? “That way,” you said, indicating with a tilt of your head.

Voice thick with need, he replied, “Let’s go.”

Tim grabbed your hips, stood you upright and spun you around, urging you forward. Before you moved, you turned to snag your phone from the floor, and when you stood, you met his frowning face.

“What do you need that for?” he said, pushing on your hip again as if to remind you of what you were doing. It was impossible to ignore the tent that had sprouted in his trousers. “Let’s go.”

You figured now was the best time—with him already hard and hounding at your heels—to present your plan.

“Hold on.” You squeezed his wrist, eyeing him coyly. “I want to ask you something.”

Tim exhaled, glancing between your tits and the door. “Yeah?”

“Don’t be like that.” Pouting, you pulled him close and grazed your nails through his hair, down his neck to keep him pliant. “You said that I seem young to afford this place by myself, right?”

He stared.

“I make little videos,” you said, holding up your phone, “of me and the guys I spend time with.” Grinning at him, you traced a finger from the divot in his throat down the buttons of his shirt. “And I think that you…” Your palm grazed over his erection. “Would be an awesome addition.”

Tim’s tongue sketched his lips. His eyes, swallowed by lust, flicked over your figure. “That isn’t going to work,” he said, shaking his head. “I—I’m married, I can’t be—”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” You patted his chest, pushed against him. “I don’t film anyone’s face but mine.” With a smirk, you added, “And you can hold the camera too, if you want.” To make your point, you gripped his length through his clothing. Your jaw dropped. “Holy fuck, you’re big.”

For the first time since meeting him, he cracked a smile. He gazed at you, head to toe yet again, finally recognizing what he’d be getting out of this arrangement. “And you won’t film my face?”

Your lashes fluttered, and you stroked him through his trousers, your core clenching when he throbbed in response. You let out a moan—you couldn’t help yourself. He felt thicker than any man you’d ever had inside of you. And that number was not insignificant.

“No,” you said, desire creeping into your throat as you met his eyes. “I won’t.”

Tim’s jaw was loose. He rocked his hips, perhaps only half-knowingly, into your grip. “Fine,” he said, and caught you in another kiss before pulling away and spinning you toward the bedroom again. “Now let’s go.” A hand cracked you across your ass.

You squealed, hopped forward with a giggle and skipped toward your room. Peering at him over your shoulder to ensure he was following, you caught him adjusting his cock, saw how thick it looked in his own, powerful hands. A thrill shot up your spine, and you bit your lip, bouncing on the balls of your feet into your bedroom to then flop backwards onto your bed. As Tim entered the room, you quickly checked the results of your poll.

Bikini - 32% |||||||||||||||||| Lingerie - 28% |||||||||||||||| His clothes - 14% ||||||| Nothing - 26% ||||||||||||||||

Well—at least they were getting what they’d asked for.

Lowering your phone, you were greeted with the sight of Tim unbuttoning his shirt, his attention trained entirely on you. Your mind staticked.

Tim’s body was broad and heavy, soft flesh underlaid with a layer of muscle still evident in his arms and shoulders and chest. Grey hair bloomed at the inner crest of his pectorals, filtered to a sparse line of darkening hair over his thick, strong stomach. Between this and the promise of stretching around his cock, you felt ready to forgo the camera altogether, wrap your legs around his waist, and force him inside of you. But he had other ideas.

Shoes were flung across the floor, and Tim climbed on top of you, following you as you moved to the head of the bed, straddling your legs, his eyes frantic, hands clawing at the bottom straps of your suit. You giggled, squirmed with excitement, and he growled and yanked back. The fabric in his fist snapped.

“Jesus!” you gasped, looking up at him. “Someone’s excited.”

“Yeah,” he said, kneading the exposed flesh of your hip and belly. “You might say that.” Grunting, he tugged longingly at the part that concealed what was left to conceal your tits. “Take it off.”

Instead, you jerked the suit aside, your breasts jiggling as they were exposed, and you gazed up at him. Biting your tongue playfully, you squeezed his erection through his pants again. “Does that work,” you murmured, “Daddy?”

Tim’s brow furrowed. His face twisted in disgust. But his cock jumped in your palm, and his hips bucked as if to hold off a sudden climax.

“Don’t call me that.” He moved to unbuckle his belt anyway.

You gazed up at him, leaning back onto the pillows as he unbuttoned his pants, exposing his boxer-briefs. Batting your eyes again, you wedged your hand against his bulge, stroking it through the cotton, mouth watering at its steel need.

“Call you what?” you asked. “Daddy?”

His cock twitched again, the head poking over the Calvin Klein waistband. He swallowed, then exhaled. “Do whatever you want.”

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

He went to ease himself over the waistband, but you grabbed his hand. “Wait,” you said. “I want to record this part.” Nodding toward the other side of the bed, you said, “Lie back.”

Tim’s brows raised. But he relented, shifting to relax against the headboard beside you.

Phone in hand, you opened the camera and aimed the back lens at your face (a skill requiring an irritating amount of practice), pouting before turning your attention to Tim. You crawled over his legs and settled between them, your free hand sliding over his body. The heat of his skin sent goosebumps over yours, and he stared down at you, transfixed. Gaze focused on his cock, your jaw dropped as he released it from its confines.

You’d known it would have girth. You hadn’t expected, though, to wonder if you could fit it in your mouth, if you could even encircle it with your hand. A pulsing vein creeked from the base toward the tip, echoing his heartbeat, and the head was flushed with blood, leaking precum, the shaft fat with the ache to fuck you.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you said, and took him in your fist.

Tim groaned, cursing under his breath, and you cursed, too. He weighed huge and hot in your palm, like a stone furnace you stoked with every roll of your wrist. Each stroke earned a new twitch of his hips, a new throb of his cock, and he gazed down at you through half-lidded eyes, part hunger, part disbelief.

This was, you thought, your favorite part of fucking men like him. Every single time, despite the initial hesitance, or compensated swagger, or feigned dismissal—every single time, they’d shed that armor, reveal themselves as men who craved your cunt; men who had never believed they’d be able to get hands on flesh like yours again; men who, given a single gift of permission, would bury themselves to the balls in your young, tight pussy and flood it with their cum.

You eased yourself forward, licked at the tip of his cock, and his head fell back in a deep moan.

“Can I suck your cock, Daddy?” you asked, gazing up at him with the sweetest, most innocent gaze you could muster.

Tim glimpsed you, wove his thick fingers through your hair, and pushed your lips onto his length.

Keeping the camera focused on your face was the biggest challenge, and usually one you approached with concentration. But as your mouth slipped over his shaft, as he pressed on your tongue and stretched your jaw and hit the back of your throat, you found the importance of the camera falling to the back of your mind, only remembering at the last second to adjust it to the ideal angle. Your clit was swollen, clamoring for pressure, for friction. Tim’s breath was stalled, waiting for you to withdraw.

You sealed your lips around him, vision blurring as you dragged back, a groan rumbling in your chest. Tim’s grip on your head tightened; he locked you from pulling away, instead holding you still as he thrust slowly once, twice, pace torturous and casual, like he was priming himself to ruin you. Whimpering, you stared into his shuttering eyes, your free hand ringing the base of his cock, spit threading from your lips and spilling onto your chin.

“That’s it, honey…” he drawled, voice wrought with pleasure. “Just like that.”

This only encouraged you—your eyes flicked to the camera, as if to say, look, he loves it, and you sucked, twisted your wrist, caressed his shaft with your tongue. Another moan, his cock pulsing between your lips, and you hummed, gazing up at him, drooling over every inch, jaw already sore from how wide he forced it open. You were aching, your cunt soaked. You weren’t sure how long you could continue sucking him off without needing to cum yourself.

Tim met your eyes, something burgeoning underneath the thin ice of his irises. A twitch of cruelty at his upper lip. His grip tightened, and he fucked into your mouth, jabbing the back of your throat, his size making you retch despite your experience. Jerking his hips faster, the taste of his precum coated your tongue, the scent of him—clean musk—infiltrating your nose. The phone trembled in your grasp, and you glanced at the camera again, eyes flooding, moaning gratefully onto his shaft.

“Fuck.” He held either side of your head and drove his cock deep until your nose met the coarse hair at the base. You writhed, choking, and he studied you, words trapped behind his teeth, admiring your pleading face and your jiggling tits and the saliva running from your lips in rivers. “Fuck, yes.”

A final restrained sneer, and he released your head, allowing you to wrench yourself free. You spluttered and coughed, slinging spit across his stomach, your cheeks damp with tears. Lips swollen, you grinned up at him.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, earning another eager twitch from his cock.

Tim laid there, his pants still halfway down his thighs. A hundred ideas for the camera flit through your mind—him bending you over the bed, or your hands on his chest while you bounced in his lap, or your back pinned to the wall while he wrapped one leg around his waist—but spying the repression in his face made all of it seem completely unimportant.

Fuck the numbers. You’d find someone else at this godforsaken resort. You wanted him—all of him—without a single performance.

But you would at least get one more shot.

“You wanna hold the camera?” you asked, offering it to him.

He raised a brow. “If you want,” he replied, and took it in his hands, looking between you and the phone. “What do I do with it?”

Wetting your lips, you crawled up to straddle him, rocking your hips to tease your cunt over his cock and coasting a hand from his chest, down his stomach. “Film yourself,” you said, reaching between your legs to give his length a single stroke, “sliding that thick cock of yours inside of me.”

He allowed himself half a smirk. “Oh, yeah?” he said. “Is that right?”

“Hmm…” You grinned. “I think you’re trying to get me to say it, now.”

Tim snorted. “Sure.”

He placed the phone down and flipped you onto your back, shucking the rest of his clothing before returning to loom over you. Your mouth watered again, devouring his exposed thighs, the swing of his cock between them, the shadow of hair surrounding it.

Giggling, you spread your legs to welcome him. Tim picked up the phone again, face screwing as he fumbled with the screen.

“How do I—”

“The camera—”

“—turn this—”

“—app, you just open it and—”

“—thing—I got it, I got it—”

You nodded, stilling, holding your breath as he aimed the camera at the crux of your legs.

Tim’s free hand smoothed over your thigh, caressing every naked inch, thumb brushing your concealed folds. You bucked your hips, whining, begging with your body, but he was unmoved, teasing over your heat again, again, adding pressure each time, until he finally stroked your needy clit, and you cried out in bliss.

“Please,” you said, pushing out your lower lip for effect. “Please, fuck me, Daddy.”

Tim’s jaw tensed, as if he wanted to speak but his tongue was pinned. Camera still on you, he guided his cock to your cunt, the fat tip easing the fabric of your swimsuit to the side. Your breath caught in your throat, air whispering in your wetness, and you stared into the camera, wiggling your hips, trying to entice him.

Swirling the head of his cock in your slick, Tim’s breath quickened until he pressed himself to your entrance, his mouth parting and eyes rolling as he sank into your cunt.

“Oh, fuck, yes.”

“Oh, fuck, yes—”

If he had felt big in your hand, or huge in your mouth, he felt massive inside of your pussy. Tim was now, verifiably, the thickest man you’d had inside of you, and he filled you like a beast glutting itself on blood, stretching you until you were certain he’d pressed your pelvis. You were paralyzed, mind muddled, only able to focus on the air in your lungs, your fingers entwined in the sheets. Seething with bliss, Tim’s grip bruised you, and he slid out to sink in again, this time exhaling as pleasure washed over him.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he cooed. “I… I—” He shook off whatever he’d wanted to say, and resumed his rhythm, thrusting deep, his hips smacking your thighs, your tits bouncing, his head dipped in awe. “God…”

The camera wobbled, unsteady in his hand. It was time to relinquish him of responsibility. With a smirk, you snatched it from him, switched off the recording and laid it on your bedside table.

“That’s enough of that,” you said.

Tim was frozen, apparently uncertain if this meant he needed to stop fucking you, which he seemed very certain he did not want to do.

“You’re holding back,” you said, gliding your hands up his sides and curving around to his back to coax him over you. “I want to hear everything you want to say.” As he settled on top of you, his cock pulsing at your entrance, you nuzzled your head against his, and said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Tim tensed above you. You heard his throat work. Then he withdrew his hips, and drove into you, grunting at your ear, resuming a patient and painful rhythm. Each thrust split you wider, his hips snapping like springs, and you jolted with every connection of skin, your eyes shutting, your mouth hanging open with staccatoed sobs of delight.

“Yeah,” he growled, “fuck. You don’t care who fucks your pretty pussy, do you?” His voice scraped the depth of his chest. “You just want it—fuck—filled up.”

You nodded with a whine, voice lost to the intensity of how he stretched you. One of your legs wound around him, your nails skated down his back, and he slammed into you, his spine arching as if to pinch a desperate need. Shifting, Tim pushed you forward, your hips lifting from the bed, and then plunged into your cunt, spearing through you over, and over. You wailed, clinging to him, sweat slicking between you, enduring the onslaught of bliss and agony that shrieked in your skin.

With every new thrust, ripples of contact ricocheted to your clit, now more swollen and sensitive than a naked nerve. It throbbed, ached, pleaded with you to cum. Obliging, you reached between your legs, giving it only the suggestion of touch, and you shook with utter ecstasy.

“Yes,” you said, “I need—please, more, fuck—”

Tim’s ragged breath quickened. “That’s it,” he said, “play with that little cunt.” He groaned, bit it off with a growl. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.” Faster, voice fraying at the edges. “So wet, so—” He stammered on his own pleasure, and laughed. “So much…”

Humming in recognition, you purred, “So much—ah—so much better than your wife?”

He laughed again. “Yeah.” Pumping deeper, muscles locking, he bowed his head, kissing, sucking at your neck like he could draw blood through your skin. “Fuck yeah.”

Smiling, you swirled your clit faster, passing your fingers over its throbbing edge, rocking your hips with his thrusts, meeting him again, again, wanting to break him, wanting to feel him fuck you full of cum.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I—Tim—”

Tim snarled, pushed himself off of you, and pulled out. You howled in protest, squirming with emptiness until he snatched your legs and flipped you onto your stomach. There was only time to blink before he yanked your hips backward, situated his cock at your pulsing core, and rammed in. This time, you screamed.

The man behind you was transformed from the anxious husk you’d met at the bar. This man was the echo of the one who’d shook you, who’d cursed the world before you, this man was the realization of the danger you’d seen flash in Tim’s eyes. He hammered your cunt, pounded your cervix, and your back bent, your hips canted, starving to take every single fucking inch.

Words escaped you, garbled nonsense that filled the room, and behind you, Tim was bestial, every breath fleeing his chest wrought with a frenzied, agonized euphoria. He subsumed you, saturated you, his thick cock stretching your cunt deeper, deeper. Lost to sensation, you reached toward your clit, grazing it with your fingertips, and twisted with ecstasy, sobbing in relief.

“That’s right, honey,” he said, barely intelligible himself. “You take it. You take—take Daddy’s cock.”

This shot straight to your clit, and you choked. “Yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me,” you sputtered, “I love your cock—”

“Yeah, you do,” he replied, “this is the best fucking cock you’ve ever had.”

“It is,” you said, panting, wailing into the mattress, “I want to cum on it, Daddy, please!”

“Oh, fuck.”

Tim’s grip tightened, you felt him hunch, felt him begin to piston his hips. You glimpsed behind you, and saw a man utterly awash in bliss—eyes shut, mouth open, chest flush with sweat—and the pressure and friction on your clit collided into a single cataclysmic peak.

“Fuck yes,” Tim hissed, “cum on it. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

Inhaling a breath, you exhaled a sob, your climax short-circuiting every thought and every instinct in your mind. You became a bucking, twitching doll, orchestrated entirely by euphoria, your words lost to the ether besides fuck, and Daddy, and please. Tim fucked you through it, milked by your spasming walls until his hips stuttered, his breath collapsed into sound, and you felt the twitching of his shaft at your core, pulsing you full of his cum.

“Fuck.” Through his gnarled breath, Tim pulled at your ass, watching himself unload inside you. Humming in delight, you clenched around him, hoping to draw out an aftershock. “Oh, my fucking God.”

You giggled, wiggled your ass as he descended to reality, his softening cock slowly slipping free of your pussy. His cum drooled from your core, dribbled down your folds and onto your thighs.

Lowering to your belly, you craned your neck to look at him. Tim was staring into your cunt, watching his cum leak out of you, his cock shining with the combination of your fluids. To be honest, you were a little impressed.

“You actually came inside of me,” you said, easing onto your back. When he just looked at you and said nothing, you continued, “I mean, I’m on birth control, don’t get me wrong. But you didn’t know that. And you still did.” You laughed. “Most guys won’t risk it.”

Tim snorted. “Well,” he said, turning around to start grabbing his clothes. “Wouldn’t have mattered either way.”

You frowned. “Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Tim dressed in silence, collecting only short glimpses of your body. When he finished, he looked toward your phone. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Uh, sure,” you said, sitting up and pulling your bathing suit back into place. “Did you, like, want to stay a little longer? Or come by tom—”

“No.” He looked in the mirror, making sure his hair was in place before turning back to you. “I don’t think you’ll be hearing from me again.” Realizing how cold that sounded, he cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry.” He met your eyes. “It’s nothing personal.”

You raised a brow. Shrugged. Not like it mattered to you. Though you would be sad to say goodbye to that perfect, beautiful cock of his. “All right, Tim,” you said. “Well, if I see you around, we won’t say a word.”

He nodded, glanced at his wedding ring. “Agreed.”

With that, he slipped into his shoes and departed the villa, haunted by the same shadow you’d seen at the bar. You sighed, snuggling into your sheets and grabbing your phone. You’d need to shower in a second, but you could at least post what you’d managed to get before doing so.

After uploading the videos (‼️NEW‼️ VIDEO 🫢🔥 I FUCK A HOT RICH DADDY 🤤🤤🤤🔥), you got into the shower, cleaning yourself of sweat, of cum, of man. Tim had been a nice enough guy, but like almost every other man you’d met at this resort, he’d carried too many skeletons in his suitcase for you to feel particularly bad for whatever his current situation was.

Once clean, you wrapped yourself in a towel and bounded back to your bed, hoping that the new content had managed to excite some of your subscribers and potentially entice a few more to join. To your surprise, the comments on the video of Tim fucking you were already exploding in ratio. You opened them, skimming through.

is that the guy from the NYT article? holy shit, that’s the sho-kel dude whoa did you fuck timothy ratliff????

Your eyes widened. Tim? Timothy Ratliff? But…

You tapped on the video.

“How do I—”

“The camera—”

“—turn this—”

“—app, you just open it and—”

Your jaw dropped. He’d started recording with the front-facing camera. You’d just posted his face to all of your subscribers.

this is so hot i had no idea sho kel guy had such a huge cock his prison buddies are gonna like that!!!!! im getting my friends to subscribe they have to see this lol

Blinking, you examined your numbers. There’d been a huge jump in just the past half an hour and still climbing.

Thank God. You were going to get something out of coming here.

It was unfortunate, sure, that he’d accidentally recorded his face. But from what you could tell, Tim had bigger problems than worrying about his face on your amateur porn. Grinning to yourself, you placed your phone on your bedside table, and turned over for a nap.

[aft4rhours]

— game over ღ

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: exes to lovers

warnings: yandere, mentions of blood and murder, kidnapping, restraints, corruption, manipulation, obsession, angst, implied imprisonment, dub con, praise, degradation, dirty talk, hints of fear kink, spanking (like once), rough sex, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

The floor creaked quietly under a pair of heavy boots. You kept your eyes on them as he moved towards you, too stubborn to look up, and too frightened not to tremble.

"Oh, sweetheart," Yoongi cooed, crouching down in front of the bed. "I'm so sorry it took so long. Can't have the cops tracing my steps, can I?"

His fingers felt cool as he grasped your chin, and yet they did nothing to soothe the heat blooming through you. He smelled like snow, his cheeks rosy from the unforgiving bite of winter air.

Tilting your head, he kissed your taped mouth with utmost tenderness, like he wanted to leave a love note on the silver.

"Cold?" He murmured, noting the chills that erupted down your arms, his fingertip tracing their journey to your elbow.

In the golden glow of candlelight, with nothing but the pearly tape adorning your body, somehow, you weren't cold. Only uncomfortable, left sitting in the same position for what seemed like hours — knees bound to your chest, wrists tied together — though that was certainly the least of your problems.

"I'll untape your mouth now. Don't scream."

You shut your eyes as he reached upwards. A quick rip followed, the sting making you wince.

"Sorry," Yoongi soothed, stroking your hair, "Sorry, baby."

You didn't scream. It was pointless. He drove a long time to get here, civilization outside the tinted windows dwindling mile after mile. You had no doubt there was nowhere you could go, no one to hear your pleads for help. You'd sooner freeze to death trudging your way through the snow.

The arrogant smile playing on Yoongi's lips was infuriating. He looked like he could devour you, a cat that has finally caught its mouse.

"Good girl," he praised lowly, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

Your stomach flipped.

"Let me go."

It came out as a whisper.

His eyebrows raised, head cocking to the side. Probably not the smartest thing to come out of your mouth, but what else were you supposed to do? Accept your fate as his little pet?

Yoongi released the soft strand, as if he got burned.

"I've been locked up for half a year... And this is how my girl greets me?"

His girl.

Why was he doing this to you? You barely dated for a few months before he chopped up two men who have been bold enough to bother you. Parts of their bodies were still in the process of being found all over the south of Seoul.

Were you going to end up the same?

You swallowed the knot in your throat, willing your heart to stop pounding. No words came, your thoughts too frantic to make sense of.

Yoongi clicked his tongue.

"The usual bratty attitude I can handle. But silent treatment? I can't fucking stand it. Your stupid little friends had enough time to convince you I wasn't good for you, huh?"

"You did that yourself!" you suddenly shouted, eyes brimming with tears. They spilled over, dripping down your collarbone. "You killed people, kidnapped me like some fucking lunatic!"

Yoongi stared at you as you sniffled. Once the dam broke, the fear broke loose too, pouring all over your lungs, making it hard to breathe. Panic started setting in. You had no idea if your outburst was going to be punished, even though in the short time that you knew Yoongi, he had never caused you any harm.

If you ever knew him at all.

He narrowed his eyes. You hated the vulnerable position he forced you into, hated how his gaze felt like a phantom touch.

"I didn't kill any people. I got rid of trash, and I did it all for you. To protect you."

He buried his face in his hands, hiding the shine of his own tears.

"Fuck. Are you actually scared of me right now? I would never hurt you."

What did it matter? Nothing about this love was healthy, and you longed to rip your heart out of your lungs to numb the feeling. You couldn't do this; couldn't let him taint your morals, or at least, couldn't let him see that he started.

All you had to do was convince him, and then yourself.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

"I hate you," you whispered.

Yoongi froze for a moment, then looked back up at you slowly. You stared right back into his eyes through your wet lashes, no longer disturbed by their dark depths. A flash of uncertainty passed through his expression, promptly replaced by a cryptic calmness.

He hummed, shrugging his jacket off.

"Let's play a game, then."

Your stomach jumped when he placed his palm on your shoulder, slowly turning you away from him.

His lips inched towards your ear, hot breath brushing over its shell.

"I don't believe you, not for a fucking second. But I'll entertain you."

You stared at the shelf in front of you, the melted candle wax and golden jewelry laid out beside red roses. The bouquet looked small and miserable after you threw it at him.

You felt just about the same; small. Helpless as he hovered behind you, his intentions unclear, your fate even more so. Your pulse quickened as seconds ticked by.

A loud gasp escaped you as he pushed you forward. Your head spun from the suddenness of the action, cheeks instantly burning and knees trembling.

You fell face first into the silk sheets, ass up, like a little doll for him to use. He had to hold on to your hip so you didn't tumble. You've never felt so powerless before, so stripped of your dignity, or so hot when you heard him unbuckle his belt.

The adrenaline rush intensified your emotions, made your throat close up. Only a whimper passed through your panicked breathing.

"Look at that," Yoongi murmured. "You're dripping already."

You flinched as you felt his finger run down your folds, clenching needily. Everything was happening too fast—

"I missed you too."

No preparation, no warning; one moment you were empty, and the next you were full.

He groaned, leaning over you, dropping his forehead onto your back, and his hand in between your thighs.

The stretch hurt. You could feel his cock twitching inside you, hard and thick as you pulsed around it.

No mercy, no patience; he started fucking into you, choked groans and wet smacks filling up the room. His fingers quickly parted your slick folds, rubbing into the little nub between them to ease the pain.

It worked — it bloomed into a searing pleasure that made your tummy and your vocal cords quiver, soft, helpless whines fleeing your lips.

"Fuck," he cursed, his voice broken, "fuck, you were made for me."

You shivered, finding yourself unable to fight against the restraints he put on you. Nevermind the tape; it was your soul that was truly imprisoned, and that made everything ten times worse.

His lips touched your ear again.

"If you don't come," he whispered, panting softly, "I'll let you go. But if you do, you will stay with me forever, do you get that, baby?"

Was this the game?

Fear clutched your heart in its iron fist, mingled with your most private, forbidden desires and desperate needs, made your eyes and your pussy wetter.

He reveled in it all.

"Go on," he taunted, "show me how much you hate me."

You did hate him.

Because nothing else made you feel like this, no matter what your friends said, no matter what seemed right or wrong. The blood on his hands dripped like an offering, all for you, a threat and a promise that predators loved, too, that they'd kill to protect their own. There was no life for him without you.

You urged yourself to hold on, to not give into your weaknesses. But it was hard when you were already tightening around him, on the brink of delirium and craving more.

"Yeah, there she is," Yoongi breathed. "My dirty little slut. My good fucking girl."

You cried out, your entire body tensing up. His cock throbbed inside you, rutting into you faster.

"Almost there? Are you gonna gonna let me keep you, baby? Chain you the fuck up like a good bitch?"

He was so close, playing dirty just to tip you over the edge, just to prove that you belonged to him. Hands curling into fists, you made an effort to focus, whining out a "no" that sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

"Yeah," Yoongi moaned. "Filthy fucking liar."

His fingers dug deeper into your hips, the hard grip marking your skin, planting the memory of this moment beneath it. Bruises would blossom tomorrow, and he wished he could see them all over you, a violet garden that grew from his love. Yet all he could do was slam into you faster, abuse that little spot inside you that his cock reached with way too much ease.

"Stop fighting it," he grunted, landing a sudden slap on your ass. "You're mine."

The harsh sting, the cursed words, the heat — it was all too much. The tension stirred and coiled in your abdomen, making black dots dance around your vision. Your cunt squeezed his cock desperately, barely allowing him to continue fucking you.

As if you were under water, everything became blurred, and soaked, with tears, with sweat and the orgasm rushing through you, encouraged by his filthy groans. So wet you didn't even realize he was coming too, until he stilled entirely, spilling inside you as you limped.

You listened to his breathing slow, your body thrumming, head pulsing with blissful nothingness. Too high and too weak to do anything but breathe with him.

A kiss was pressed into your spine.

"Mm... Should I give you one more chance?"

At that, you seemed to come back to your senses, breath hitching and eyes open wide.

Yoongi smirked, running his fingers along the tape softly.

"Let me grab a knife, pretty. I'll get you nice and comfy."

You almost flinched when he leaned over you again, his cock jerking and hardening in your sensitive hole.

"You did so well," he whispered into your ear. "Such a good, little bitch. I'm so in love with you."

A weak shudder went through you, ending with an ache right in between your legs.

Yoongi nuzzled your neck.

"Yeah, there you go. Don't you worry. We have all night to play."

Was it fair to play games one was destined to lose? Probably not, but unfortunately for you, that made it all more exciting to Yoongi. He wanted you to see yourself fail over and over, realize there was no running from your love.

It seemed you were about to.

He slipped out of you gently, biting his lip and watching his cum dribble out of you. His hand slid down to your ass, giving it a few, tender pats.

"Sit tight, sweetheart."

With that, he left you on his bed, again, ruined and aching and beyond lost. You heard him rummage through his drawers somewhere in the cabin, heard your heart beating in your own skull.

For some reason, you had a feeling this was just the beginning of a whole eternity. Hit play. Lose. Repeat. Try another level. Until your bones turned to dust and you were wrapped up in each other six feet under the ground. There was a sadistic side to Yoongi that seemed to enjoy the process, the struggle, the conquering of your mind.

Not surprising in the slightest; all dangerous creatures liked to play with their prey. Even more so when they loved it... And Yoongi would never stop loving you.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @bnagtanx1306 @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111 @shyygrl

[themeraldee]

Sweet Valentine

[Masterlist]

| 3.8k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Fluff. Some silly banter. And a whole lot of kissing and cuddling. Homelander is still Homelander (i.e. thoughts of murder occur on a daily basis, though not aimed at reader). Teeny tiny bit of Homelander trying to get frisky ('trying to' being the keyword here)

Summary: After a week of being spoiled with gifts leading up to Valentine's, you treat Homelander to a surprise of your own.

Author’s Note: This was meant to be done for Valentine's but hey at least it's still (barely) February!

Written for @discowizard88 for this request🩷

That’s just his rotten fucking luck. 

Marketing thought it would be a good idea to book his entire week full of appearances, shows, interviews and commercial shoots because they didn’t think he had anything better to do. Fucking imbeciles. He has you now.

He’s been looking forward to this day for months. Throughout your first year together Homelander’s been counting down all the occasions, events and celebrations that he’s not really had a chance to cherish before. Maeve was never the type to accept his grand, downright scripted, romantic gestures. Their last celebrated Valentine’s she all but laughed in his face when he brought her roses. Needless to say, they’ve not celebrated any consequent Valentine’s from that year on out. 

But you’re different. You appreciate it, you appreciate him. You turn downright giddy anytime he showers you with gifts and love. He was more than ready to smother you in love on this day. It’s a day for lovers, after all, what good would it be if he wasted that opportunity.

He planned it all out. Valentine’s day was gonna be big. As if you could expect anything less from him. And while the gifts kept coming, so did the TV appearances and commercial shoots.

It took one blink for the entire week to be pretty much over without him getting to participate in many of the activities he had planned. 

Homelander hasn’t felt this frustrated in a while. While he tried his best to move the schedule around, Madelyn was adamant about the importance these event had on his image and he couldn’t do much but grit his teeth and comply lest he upset her. But why doesn’t she see how important this is to him? Isn’t it obvious? 

He feels his eyes twitch. His smile becomes tighter, strained. Easily turning from his TV smile to the threatening grimace it truly is. These fucking photoshoots are beneath him. As if he doesn't have anything better to do than to stand here for hours until they've taken thousands of photos of him.

His irritation rises with each click of the camera, each flash blinding his eyes. He barely notices the way his eyes subtly heat up over the sound of ringing his ears. He's seconds away from blasting a hole straight through the camera lens and the photographer's brain. The urge to let go is strong, so strong in fact he can already imagine the bitter scent of burning wafting through the air.

Only thing that takes him out of his irritation is a subtle vibration against his leg signaling a new message. He instantly knows it's from you, nobody else gets texting privileges. Heat blooms in his chest. Just the thought of your attention brings back a genuine smile. 

He graces the crew with a smile that really is meant for you.

“Sorry folks, I gotta take five.” His lips are stretched into that awkward thin-lipped smile and he puts his hands up in a faux-apologetic gesture. He steps off the backdrop to the side, already fishing out his phone from the hidden pocket he had the costume department sew in. They carved out a space in the fake musculature of the suit so it fit right in without leaving an awkward rectangular outline in what's meant to be a skin tight suit. 

He unlocks his phone, greeted with the sickly sweet photo of the two of you. Sometimes this joy feels like his little secret. A vindictive joy against the odds. 

Come to the cabin when you're free. I've got a surprise for you ❤️

Even a simple message from you causes the weight on his chest to drop, dissolving his anger immediately. 

Aren't you a saint? Unknowingly you've just saved the entire studio. And they don't even know how grateful they should be that he has you. 

And with a promise like that he can't really stand to have one more photo taken. He slips his phone back into his pocket, turning around with a swish of his cape.

“Whoopsie-daisy, gonna have to cut this short, the city calls for my help. You know how it is, the criminals just looove to push their luck. Anyway, you got enough right? Yeah? yeah I thought so." He makes some broad gestures with a solidifying thumbs-up as if he was committing to a deal and salutes with a, "Alright. Laters.” He talks fast enough to shut any critical comments down before they even have a chance to spill from their worthless mouths.

With a quick glance to the corner of the room where Ashley is already standing anxiously arrow-straight, he doesn’t need to say anything to know that she will fight and bargain to save the situation to the best of her meagre abilities. However the fuck she does is not his problem, not like he needs to explain himself.

He doesn't wait to see the other people’s reactions, already eager to lose the watchful eyes of the crew and the camera lens. He downright stomps his way out of the studio and at the first glimpse of the bright blue sky he takes off, kicking off the ground with an obnoxious boom that rattles the foundations of nearby buildings.

He’s giddy with excitement. As he rips through the clouds, the wind pulling his hair back, slashing through the gelled cast, he can’t take that smile off his face. The adrenaline-like rush he feels in his gut over your surprise is new. It’s exciting! He doesn’t remember the last time somebody treated him to an honest-to-god surprise. A proper one at least. None of the slimy corporate schmoozing.

He reaches the location in record speed, just under seven minutes—though it still feels like forever. But the excitement clouds his vision and suddenly he’s barrelling down the atmosphere, seconds away from performing one of his ostentatious landings and exploding the ground around him. He catches himself last second, putting his heel first as an emergency break.

His landing is clumsy. He staggers as soon as his foot hits the ground, kicking up the leaves around him into the air. He regains his balance at the last tremble of his foot, sparing himself the embarrassment of a failed landing—one he hasn’t experienced since the lab days.

God, now look at his pathetic simpering self.

Literally falling head over heels because you blew your whistle. Like a needy puppy he races to you, zipping through all obstacles, unwilling to lose a single second of the allocated time he gets to spend with you.

The sweetheart you are, you’d probably praise him for it anyway and kiss his boo-boo away. That thought alone makes him rethink the fall. Not that he can actually get scraped by a measly rough landing. Though, maybe the extra attention is worth the damage it would do to his ego. 

“Woaaah, you okay?” Before he’s had a chance to look around and lock his eyes on you, you’re in his field of vision by your own doing. Quick footsteps, muffled by the leaves covering the ground become louder and louder until you’ve got your arms wrapped around one of his, helping him up. As if he actually needed it. He’s so charmed by the way you treat him as if he were fine china.

You give an awkward little chuckle. “Don’t want you getting hurt because of me.” 

Overcome with surging emotions, Homelander pulls you closer, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he gives you a big sappy kiss. It’s as much a hello as it is a I love you with all my heart. 

Now that his heart is satisfied, for the time being at least, he lets you go. Immediately tempted to dive in for more after he sees your flustered face, all giddy twitches to the corners of your lips as you look everywhere but him. Almost embarrassed that somebody might see you two kiss so passionately.

Yeah, he can’t let you go without more. He pulls you in again, and this time his kisses are silly. Loud with a wet mwah each time he presses a kiss to a different part of your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and lips don’t stand a chance. This time his kisses do force flustered giggles out of you, a squeak or two after he squishes your cheeks with his numerous kisses. Good luck keeping count with him around.

Oh how he missed you. This week has been nothing but one item on Vought’s itinerary after another and his hunger for you and your love has been growing each passing second he spends in your absence.

You finally manage to push him away, the rapid-fire smooching already getting you ticklish and wobbly. Not that he wouldn’t catch you should his affection be too much for you. Of course then you really couldn’t escape the descent of affection he had to give. 

But he’s a merciful god, and he lets you create some distance. Satisfied, he watches your giggles slowly die out as you look every bit in love. “Hey,” you finally break your loving eye contact and you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Hey, you.” He echoes, his smile equally fond, eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“You got here very quickly.” You note. Both a little impressed and suspicious. He’s very aware of the way your thumb is rubbing over his glove. Though dulled through the leather, each stroke makes his heart gain a little momentum.

“Well, you know,” he waves his free hand in the air, “the shoot was just wrapping up. I left as soon as I could. Wouldn’t wanna miss our secret little rendezvous.” The fact that he was close to burning down the studio is a little detail you don’t need to be privy to. Though at this point, you can probably tell. 

“Speaking of,” Homelander continues. “There you go, summoning me to a quiet, middle of nowhere, cabin in the woods. Mind enlightening me what’s all this about? What kind of naughty plans has your pretty little head cooked up that require total isolation, huh?” His grin is sharp and he by no means hides the immediate thoughts running through his head.

“First of all, this is your cabin. Not some middle of nowhere. Second of all, get your mind out of the gutter—now.” Even through your scolding you giggle, grinning at him as you walk backwards, dragging him with you.

Turning just around the end of the cabin presents a sweet sight. On the soft grass lies a picnic blanket, adorned with a woven basket, a colourful spread of food, pillows, and even a bunch of roses. As if taken straight from a romance novel. 

Except, this is real. Unlike most of his previous love life.

“Tada! Happy Valentine’s day!” You let his hand go and you raise your arms in the air at the reveal. Right along with your pretty glittering smile. The joy of this moment feels unreal. Is this really happening? Is this really his life these days? He can’t remember a time when he last experienced a joy this pure that wasn’t with you.

“W-uh-what? You put all of this together?” He’s a little shell-shocked. After a busy week, filled with more work than time with you—much to his displeasure—this feels like an oasis. He’s been parched all week, dragging through the desert that was working for Vought and here you come, rescuing him with the most delicious sip of water. Well, more like a whole reservoir of it.

“I had a teeny tiny bit of help but yeah,” you pinch your fingers together to show just how little help you’ve had.

“I had to make it a secret! And you’ve been treating me so well all week, I had to have a little surprise for you too.” He can’t tell which one of you is more excited. You look more excited with your near ‘skipping to the picnic blanket’ attitude, but his heart is hammering against his ribcage with this overwhelming joy he’s not felt in a while. He still so easily gets disarmed by all the ways you show your love. This is just another cherry on top of what feels like an infinitely tiered cake that is your relationship. Each time he thinks you surely don’t have more to give, you go and add another tier or another cherry. Sweeting his sour life, one moment at a time.

“Come on,” you walk—no, skip—back to him, aiming to grasp both of his hands. Homelander catches you right before you manage to, one arm around your waist, the other supporting the back of your head and just like that you’re yet again caught in the web that are his kisses. He presses his lips firmly against yours, waiting for you to relax, letting him have his way with your now-parted lips. With pleased little sighs and long hums in between, he renders your legs into a jelly-like state, supporting your weight effortlessly.

“I love you,” he breathes out heavily when he finally pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I love you too,” you catch your breath. The smile you offer up steals his heart a hundred times over, while the sped up pitter-patter of your heart soothes him. You’re just as enamored by him as he is by you.

“Let’s enjoy this together.” He lets you take his hands this time as you walk him to the picnic. You sit down first, carving out a space for the two of you, impatiently patting the area next to you. Homelander takes care to move his cape out of the way while not knocking anything over or covering anything up.

“I hope your calendar is free the entire weekend because I brought a lot of food, drinks, blankets and movies and I plan to spend all this time spoiling you.”

“I thought it was the gentleman’s job to spoil his lady.” He looks at you fondly, one wouldn’t even recognise him like this. Though most haven’t earned this reaction from him. You have. 

“What can I say, I’m all for gender equality. So just let me spoil you for once.”

“Alright then missy, let’s see what you’ve got.” He’s lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. 

While you reach for the furthest tray filled with all sorts of sweets and finger food, Homelander looks around at all that you’ve prepared, curiously picking up an iced cookie.

“Are these… our initials?” He asks after he inspects the heart shaped cookie from each side before biting into it. They’re clearly custom made with the love for each other in mind, but the idea of you ordering these from a bakery makes him chuckle. What’s next, are you gonna get him to carve out your initials into a tree?

Well, he definitely could.

Maybe, he should. 

He could carve out your initials into the moon if you asked him to. 

“Cheesy, I know.”

“Sweet too, just like you.” 

“I take it back, you’re a whole league ahead of the cookies.” You deadpan.

“Come on babe, when else if not on Valentine’s day? Cut me some slack.” He was gonna put the rest of the cookie down, not wanting to overwhelm himself with too much sugar but seeing his initial all alone now that he’s bitten off your letter looks too sad for his liking. He pops the rest of the cookie in his mouth, wiping off the crumbs with his glove. 

“Now, now. Don’t get too full on cookies. I’ve got more for you.” You pluck a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray. “Here, open up.” You hold the chocolate covered tip of the strawberry close to his lips, waiting for him to take a bite. It’s only appropriate for a man of god-like status like him to be fed and worshipped by his love. You always fill that role so well. His most devout one. 

He bites half of it, letting you eat the rest. You put the green top back onto the tray when you’re done with your portion.

“You know I’ve never had those before.” He says after a thorough tasting session.

You have the audacity to look at him like he’s grown another head.

“You’re fucking with me. You’ve never had chocolate strawberries?” Your face scrunches in disbelief as you speak over a mouthful of goodness.

“I’ve had chocolate. I’ve had strawberries. Obviously. Just never together.” He shakes his head a little, acting as if you’re the crazy one.

“Wow. Okay. We’re gonna have to explore this bizarre list of things you’ve never had before.” Indulgently you go for another one, and he takes another mental note of your likes.

When he says nothing you prompt him with, “Well? What’s the verdict? Is it everything you’ve ever imagined?”

“Did you make them?” He asks, confusing you, instead of actually answering your question.

“No, I picked them up from the same bakery I got the cookies from.”

“Okay good, well, it’s not my favourite. Sorry to disappoint you there.” He clasps his hands together as he looks at you with a terribly fake apologetic smile.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Were you about to lie to me if I said I did make them?”

He sputters, blowing a raspberry as he looks away, pretending to just be scoping out the place.

“Who, me? No, never!” He feigns innocence without actually putting any of his acting chops behind the gesture.

“You ass!” You gently smack his chest. “What didn’t you like about it?” Now that you know he’s not a fan, you eagerly hog the tray, scoffing down one strawberry after another.

“The taste is fine enough. It’s the texture that’s all wrong. Mushy and crunchy at the same time is just, bleugh.” He shakes his head a little bit as if disgusted, acting all dramatic. He’d happily be seen as silly and dramatic if it gets you to laugh as joyously and heartily as it does this time.

When your chuckles die out, you call him out. “Fussy. Oh well, more for me.”

He takes his time. Watching over you closely as you enjoy your sweet little red treats.

“You know what would taste better?” 

“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly, putting the tray away after discarding another leafy top.

“You.” He pulls you down to his level when your hands are free, lying you across the top of him.

You yelp at the sudden pull. After you settle on top of him a little better, you mumble. “I taste just like the strawberries!” 

“Mhm, but you feel a hell of a lot better. C’mere.” Just like that, he’s kissing you again. His hands can’t decide where to hold you so they slide around your back, your hips—stealing a cheeky squeeze of your ass, shocking a little nip to his lip from you—and all the way around your neck, head and arms. His hands are just as greedy for you as his lips are.

And you were right. You do taste like strawberries and chocolate. The hint of sweet and delicious alongside the taste of you that he so loves. You don’t take his kisses as seriously. Giggling and wobbling on top of him.

You pull away with a burst of giggles at the awkward position. You’re almost spread entirely across him, limb to limb. Body part to body part. It’s admittedly a little silly looking. Like two people making snow angels on top of one another. But still, the effortlessness that comes with the sounds you make, swells his heart with fondness.

You reach your arm out into the woven wicker basket and pull out a can of whipped cream.

“Well if you don’t like the chocolate ones, I’ve got some whipped cream for you.” Except instead of covering one of the fresh strawberries, you squirt a dollop of cream at the tip of his nose.

Homelander’s bewildered at your child-like actions. Especially so, when you lick the cream off with a disgusting slurp.

“Welp, now you’ve done it.” He easily wrestles you for the can without needing to use even an ounce of his strength, twisting the two of you around. 

He manages to knock over some of your pretty trays but he can’t force himself to care. Now when you’re underneath him.

You look so pretty like this.

Happily taking your place underneath him, cheeks puffed up with your laughter, lips in a constant wide grin. Your happiness around him makes you the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He has to stop himself from descending on you with another avalanche of kisses, instead opting for continuing this playful little wrestling match you got yourselves into.

Homelander squirts the cream in a line over your lips, licking and kissing it off in between the laughter that still shakes your body. He leaves your lips leaving all sticky and improperly cleaned. This distracts you well enough for him to draw a line from your neck to your cleavage.

With a scandalous shriek you try to push him away. “Oh my god are you crazy, not out here!”

You squeak even more when you feel the cream land in between your breasts, spreading across your skin as it slowly warms up and turns liquid.

“There is literally nobody out here. I’d hear them.” Or well, let’s be real. He’d burn their eyes out for accidentally seeing you in a mildly compromising position, he wants to add but chooses to keep the moment sweet for your sake.

Obscenely, he licks up all the cream he covered you with. No matter how much you act as if this is the filthiest thing he’s ever done. There are plenty more filthier things he’s got planned with this whipped cream. Suddenly you’ve opened up a whole world of possibilities he hasn’t thought of before.

Thinking he’s already got you hook, line and sinker as soon as his tongue hits your skin, he’s in for another surprise when you don’t give in as easily. You manage to snag the can from his hand right before he gets any further.

“If you want to continue this, we’re gonna have to pack all of this up and take it indoors.” You threaten as if you were scolding a child.

"Fine. We can stay here." Finally, with a huff, he drops his advances, instead dropping his weight on you for a second before readjusting your position. Really, he’s glad that you have a mind of your own. Which isn’t something he can say for most of the people he’s surrounded with.

“See, this is nice.” You pull yourself up a little so that his head rests on your stomach. You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly and he enjoys the slow rise and fall of your torso. To have someone so alive and eager with him really feels like the best Valentine’s day gift. That sickly sweet dimpled little fruit could never compare.

So yeah. It is nice. Really nice.

Your fingers cradle through his locks, gently breaking apart the hair product the styling team piled on for his photoshoot. He hums his pleased approval into the softness of your stomach, nuzzling himself into you.

Shenanigans can always wait. Now, he has this. And the rest of the weekend to catch up on all the time lost.

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

[bugslaststraw]

See it's funny because in the games, and in any other assorted media before the movies came out, everyone low-key just hates Robotnik. And not even in the fun dedicated way like they all seem to think he's a bit of a failure. Which sounds weird if you don't know anything about Sonic (and certainly sounded weird to me three weeks ago when I was one of those people) but it really is just genuinely the case. I think?

Obviously his family all hate him. Movie-only fans will have an idea about this one; we've got good old Geralt Robotnik who didn't give a rats ass about him in favour of his long-dead cousin Maria, whom he wants revenge for. Geralt manipulated him and used him and said "oh Ivo you're no Maria" even though Ivo probably doesn't even know who the fuck Maria is in the movie universe and so on, et cetera. Geralt sucks just as much in the games and did approximately the same thing there.

What you may or may not know is that in one of the games, Eggman runs into a descendant of his from generations into the future. That guy's name is Eggman Nega, and he absolutely hates his ancestor. He thinks he's cramping his style? He's trying to go back in time and kill him to restore his reputation as far as I remember. Not to mention he has other family and cousins, none of whom give a flying fuck what happens to him. I distinctly remember someone who's name was Collin but who's nickname was Snively and who also worked with Eggman at some point, but hated him, and then later betrayed him. I can't remember a single family member of Eggman's that actually seemed to like or even tolerate him.

He's had a lot of henchpeople too. Most of them were robots. A lot of them, like Omega, and Gamma, and Sage to an extent (although she was more like a robot daughter he built for himself) betrayed him and joined the good guys too (Sage is another outlier, she isn't exactly switching over I mean she definitely likes him but she definitely isn't loyal either so.??) I mean, Eggman isn't even surprised by the fourth time. Smaller minions like Orbot (and Cubot? another outlier) and their predecessors weren't able to betray Eggman, but definitely would've if they could've because they all disliked him because he's allegedly a shit boss. (Who says he isn't. He's evil after all.)

He "contracts" a lot of spies and stuff too. Animal characters. They all hate him as well, but he tends to hate them in return, so at least those are entirely fair game.

Not to mention all the villains he's conveniently happened to need the same thing as at the start of the game, but become inconvenient to towards the end, so they betray him as quickly as possible to get ready for their final boss fight with Sonic towards the conclusion of the story. There's more of those than I can count or care to remember. He meets his alternative universe self once and they hate each other. There's even a moment in I think the comics where Eggman loses all his memories and temporarily becomes nice, and hangs out in a village and builds things for the furry people who live there. He makes a wooden puppet style robot that also becomes like a daughter to him. She's good at engineering, just like him. Of course when he gets his memories back and becomes evil again she leaves as quickly as possible and later helps Sonic & co. She's very resentful about it all, I've heard.

None of that is surprising, of course. Eggman is an evil villain to the heroes and a loser to the villains. It's funny! It's a joke. They need to introduce scarier villains in the games to ramp up tension but they can't exactly just drop Sonic's nemesis down a hole somewhere, being as iconic as he is... So he sticks around. But as a joke, rather than an actual threat. And it's a little sad, yeah. But he deserves it! He's trying to create some sort of totalitarian egg-state and he bullies Sonic for having friends, for Christ's sake. Why should anyone want to stay loyal to a guy like that- and why should anyone do it at all? Joining the heroes is the cool thing to do! Shadow does it, Knuckles does it, Omega kinda sorta does it, Sage is toeing the damn line from what I've heard, it's...

Okay, it's kind of a lot? I mean I understand having nobody that's a good guy like the villain, but like... Not even his damn henchpeople robots? In a lot of the animated shows and comics he keeps building robot wives for himself that are explicitly created just to like him, by him. That or he's into someone who's into one of the animals, or similar. I mean, it's that bad. And it's like... Nobody? Not even once in like thirty years did anyone come up with the idea to give Eggman?? This behemoth among famous pop culture characters? A loyal henchman?

And- well, okay, nowadays this isn't true anymore. I'm sure we all know why. And that's kind of fun; in 2020, Doctor Robotnik gained his first and only loyal henchperson. Great! But...

Jeff Fowler is a Sonic fan, isn't he. Would he know..?

Would anyone involved in making the movies know that Eggman famously... Doesn't have any friends? That nobody seems to like him? That he's apparently infinitely betrayable? Do they know? Do they know? Is that why the third movie is written like that? Is it not just a character complex pulled out of someone's- I mean, when movie Eggman says that there's only ever been one person who actually liked him and one person who actually cared about him... He's quite literally right, isn't he. As in... Since 1991... Like 34 years since conception as a handful of red pixels in the hottest new platformer game there's actually, literally only been one character..? ooh I think I need to lie down for a bit

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[mxstellatayte]

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

[thewritingrowlet]

The Office Romance pt. 1, ft. tripleS Seoyeon, Kep1er Dayeon

tags: creampie, daddy kink

length: 8k+

author's note: It's been a long while since I've written about Seoyeon. So, to rectify that, I'm featuring her in this start of another series (this feels like a bad idea, ngl).

-

“Miss Yoon, to my office, please,” you say into the landline on your desk that’s connected to Seoyeon’s. “On my way, sir.”

Within seconds, Seoyeon appears in front of your eyes, and you lock the door behind her with a push of a button. “Sir?” You shake your head. “It’s not the time for that.” She knows what you’re getting at. “Oppa?” “I miss you, sweetheart.” She looks at you confusedly. “Sorry?” You take a deep breath before continuing your point. “We haven’t spent time for ourselves recently, have we, sweetie—we’ve been so busy with work.”

Seoyeon sits on the empty chair on the other side of the desk. “That’s true,” she sighs, “so, what’s your idea?” You suggest getting lunch together, but she seems hesitant to take you up on the offer. “People will see, though,” she says quietly. You close your eyes as realization hits: only a handful of people (who you trust the most) know about you and Seoyeon, and it’s safer for the both of you to keep it that way.

Without command, tears start flowing out of your eyes, and Seoyeon jumps off her chair in shock. “Huh, what—oppa, are you okay?” You nod. “I-I’m fine; I just realized how complicated our relationship is.” Seoyeon isn’t convinced that you’re fine, so she pulls you onto your feet and hugs you tightly. You put your lips on her forehead, feeling apologetic for bringing this life upon your lovely girlfriend. “I’m so sorry, sweetie—I didn’t mean to drag you into this life like this.”

Seoyeon has been your number one supporter since day one; she’s been by your side through all the ups and downs of the company, unwavering in her approach to this difficult job while maintaining the other side of the coin as your girlfriend. She’s doing all these things for you, and the only things she’s asking in return are your loyalty to her and commitment to the job—on top of appropriate pay, of course.

“It’s a good thing that you’re paying me a ton for this,” Seoyeon tries to lighten the mood. You crack a little laugh. “I’m glad that it’s enough for you.” She looks at you in the eyes. “I mean, with sex on top of it, it’s more than enough.” You smile a little before frowning again when another realization hits. “We haven’t had sex in a week,” you say quietly. Your girlfriend smiles, showing you the incredible patience that you admire her for. “It’s fine, oppa; like you said, we’ve been very busy with work.”

An idea enters your mind. “What do you say we spend this weekend for ourselves, sweetie?” Seoyeon nods enthusiastically. “Sounds great, oppa,” she says, “I must warn you, though: if you don’t touch me at least twice, I’m quitting this job.” “You got it, sweetie.”

Seoyeon asks you to return to your seat, and because you expect that she’ll want to leave your office and get back to work, you unlock the door for her. “I heard that,” she comments, “are you kicking me out, oppa?” You blink rapidly in confusion. “Excuse me?” She leans very closely towards you. “Don’t you want a blowjob first?” Her whispered words give you goosebumps everywhere, and you can’t help but nod. “That’s what I thought.”

Seoyeon pushes your chair backwards a little to make space for her to get on her knees. “Feed me your dick, oppa,” she allures. Without wasting too much time, you unzip your trousers and pull them down along with your boxers, exposing your hard cock to your girlfriend. “Omo, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?”

You let out a moan when Seoyeon first lets you in her mouth. “That’s really good, baby—fuck, you’re so good.” Much to your satisfaction, your girlfriend starts bobbing her head along your length faster. Your eyes gradually close as your eyelids feel heavy, but that’s when she slaps your leg to get your attention—Seoyeon doesn’t like it when you’re not looking at her during a blowjob. “Sorry, baby; you’re just too good,” you reason.

She’s trying to say something, but because your shaft is lodged in her mouth, nothing but intelligible sounds come out. You see that she’s tapping the back of her head, though, so you guess that she wants you to put your hand there. “Alright, alright, here.” You place your hand on the back of her head, expecting nothing from her in return.

She proves you wrong, however, as she negotiates more of your shaft deeper into her mouth, possibly into her throat. “Good girl, baby,” you utter without thinking twice. Not satisfied yet, Seoyeon fixes her hands on your knees and forces herself to take the entirety of your length, ignoring whatever blaring alarm from her body and brain, and at the same time, taking you closer to cum-land.

“Baby,” you finally manage to say something, “I’m going to cum.” Seoyeon removes you from her mouth momentarily to gather herself. “S-sure,” she says between heavy pants, “one—oh, God, one second, please.” You lift her chin so that you can look right into her big, adorable eyes. “I love you,” you whisper to her, “thank you for making the time for this.”

You can tell that she wants to be kissed but is hesitant to come in for one considering your cock was just in her mouth, so you take the charge and kiss her passionately. “I like that,” Seoyeon quips, “that’s a green flag for me, you know.” You run a thumb back and forth on her cheek. “I love you, sweetie—I love you sooo much.” She smiles, a mix of cuteness and sexiness shown on her face. “Give me your cum, then, sir.”

Seoyeon opens her mouth as wide as she can, and there’s nothing better for you to do than to shove your cock into her mouth. “I’ll give you my cum, baby; don’t worry about nothing.” She closes her eyes when you start fucking her mouth while making sure her teeth are off your cock. “C’mon, Yoon Seoyeon, you can do this—you’ve done this dozens of times,” she tells herself. Thinking that you’re close, she fixes her hands on your knees again to prepare for your semen.

Even though she has prepared for it beforehand, Seoyeon still panics when her mouth is suddenly flooded with your cum. She tries to stay in place and receive everything, but despite her best efforts, it starts leaking out of the corners of her mouth, and she can only hope that it doesn’t land on her clothers. “Should’ve undressed first,” she thinks.

Salvation comes to her as you place a palm under her chin while pulling out at the same time. “Come here, sweetie.” You pull her head closer to you to help make sure her clothes stay clean. “Thank you, baby—thank you for everything,” you say as you clean her face with facial tissues.

“Do you want to spit that out, baby?” Seoyeon shakes her head, and instead swallows your load in one go. You show her a big smile. “You’re such an amazing girl, you know that?” She thanks you for the kind words (and the load). “Do I look okay, though, oppa? Am I too messy?” You run your fingers through her hair to help her tidy up. “Should be okay now, baby.” “Thanks, oppa.” She gives you a peck on the back of your hand. “See you later, okay?”

Seoyeon makes her way out of your office, and as soon as she closes the door behind her, she sees Dayeon, who’s sitting on a chair while hugging a big binder. “You were there a long time, Seoyeon-ah—what were you doing?” “I was just doing my job, Dayeon-ah,” she replies, trying to play it cool. “That must’ve been stressful, because your hair is quite messy,” Dayeon strikes for the second time. Seoyeon’s heart jumps a little, but she manages to deflect once again. “It was a pretty serious matter.”

She can tell that Dayeon isn’t entirely convinced, but whatever is in that binder matters more. “So, is he free now?” Seoyeon nods. “You might want to ring the bell first,” she adds, and apparently, it sounds odd to Dayeon, as proven by the raised eyebrows. “Is that so? Why, is he naked?” It’s getting hard for Seoyeon to stay serene. “No, but he has a lot of work other than whatever is in that thing.” “Sure, he does,” Dayeon presses the bell to your office, “well, see you later.”

Seoyeon watches on as Dayeon disappears behind the door to your office. “You’re not stealing him from me, you bi—” A ding from her phone interrupts her train of thoughts; it’s an incoming text from you, thanking her for making you cum and relieving some stress. “See this? He’s mine, not yours.” She takes a seat on her chair and promptly lets out a deep sigh. “Why are we doing it like this, oppa? Can’t we just tell the world we belong to each other?”

-

Dayeon enters your office with a big smile. “Yes, Miss Kim?” She reaches behind her head and frees her hair from the tie, showing you a rather sexy side of her. “Miss Kim? Really?” She slowly makes her way closer to your desk, and only now do you notice that the first two buttons on her blouse are undone, letting you peek at the white lacy bra she’s wearing underneath. “When are you going to treat me like you do Seoyeon-ie, boss? I don’t want to wait forever, you know.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Kim,” you deflect, trying to stay solid under pressure. “Also, it’d be helpful if you'd stop trying to seduce me every time you walk into my office.”

Dayeon places her hands on your desk and bends forwards just enough for you to see her cleavage more freely. “Oh, c’mon, don’t be too hard on me.” She smirks when she catches you looking at her chest. “Don’t you want to touch these plump tits, boss?” You shake your head to both clear your mind and tell her no. “I have a girlfriend, Miss Kim,” you open a card, “please stop.”

You expect her to listen and stop trying to seduce you, but instead, she moves to sit on your desk with her legs slightly parted. “You’re such a good boyfriend, aren’t you, boss? Here you are, working hard at your company while she’s off doing God-knows-what.” “My girlfriend is a hard-working woman, Miss Kim,” you say, not accepting the slander. “So am I, and that’s why you should consider giving me a chance.” She must’ve missed the single most important detail of this exchange, which is the fact that you’re taken, but you just want to stop at this point. “Miss Kim, let’s address whatever you actually came here for, and we can pretend this never happened.”

Seeing that there’s no way to progress, Dayeon jumps off your table and tidies up her clothes. “Fine,” she sighs, “I guess we can talk about work instead.” She places the thick binder on your desk crassly. “These are reports on our trainees, let me know which of these girls you want to choose for debut.” “I need—” Dayeon interrupts by placing a flash drive on your desk. “Here are their practice videos,” she adds.

“Let me know about your thoughts about these girls soon, okay?” Dayeon then makes her way out of your office, and as soon as she disappears behind that door, you let out a big sigh. “Why are we doing it like this, Seoyeon-ah? Can’t we just tell the world that we belong to each other?”

-

“Seoyeon-ah, why are you still here?” Your question snaps her out of focus, making her jump in shock a little bit. “Oh my God, you didn’t have to surprise me like that.” She pats her chest to calm down. “Can I help you, sir?” You show her a warm smile while pointing at the clock hanging on the wall. “This is quite literally not the time for that, is it?” Seoyeon’s face instantly relaxes and her body sinks into her chair, releasing the tension she has been holding for hours now. “You want to go home, baby?” “I still need to finish this thing, though,” she says.

Your heart sinks: you forget how much you rely on Seoyeon for a plethora of things, taking her help and presence for granted more often than you’d like to admit. “We can continue tomorrow, love; let’s just go home, please.” Seoyeon stares at you blankly, possibly contemplating if she wants to finish it tomorrow and go home with you tonight. “Yeah, let’s go home,” she finally comes to a decision, much to your delight.

Seoyeon looks around to make sure there’s no custodian or security guard around, and when she sees that the coast is clear, she takes your hand in yours. “I love you, oppa,” she says softly, filling your heart with some much-needed warmth. “I love you more, baby, and I can’t do anything without you,” you reply, making sure she knows that she’s appreciated. Seoyeon giggles. “Would you consider giving me a raise, then?” “Yes, absolutely; I’ll see what I can do, okay, baby?”

As soon as you step out of the elevator, you see Dayeon hanging out with a security guard with her back turned against you, which gives you enough time to let go of Seoyeon’s hand and pretend nothing happened. Dayeon turns around when the guard points inside where you are.

“Oh, hello, boss,” Dayeon ignores Seoyeon and only greets you, “going home?” You put on a smile and simply nod to her question. “See you tomorrow, Miss Kim.” Initially, she doesn’t say anything when you walk past her with Seoyeon, but as you’re inching closer towards your car, Dayeon opens her mouth. “Do you sleep with your secretary, boss? Is she that girlfriend you spoke of?”

Both you and Seoyeon stop in your tracks, and admittedly, you’re very nervous. “What the hell are you talking about, Dayeon-ah,” Seoyeon comes to your aid, “I have a boyfriend, just so you know.” “You don’t actually think that I’m that stupid, do you? It’s not hard to put 2 and 2 together,” she presses on.

After thinking about it for a moment, you decide to interrupt and just reveal the whole thing. “Yes, Miss Kim, I do sleep with my secretary who is also my girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. “So, please stop trying to get to me; I don’t want to cheat on my beloved.” “Yeah, okay.” Dayeon bows while her eyes release tears, “I apologize, sir—have a good evening.” You look at Seoyeon, and she looks right back at you with this flat expression that you can’t figure out the meaning of. “You too, Miss Kim. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Seoyeon is oddly quiet tonight, visibly tense and deep in thought—not even a flavorful dinner managed to get her to relax. “Love, I hope you’re not thinking about work right now.” She shakes her head. “I’m just thinking about Dayeon-ie.” You stay silent and see if she wants to continue. “How long do you think she has had a crush on you, oppa?” “I don’t know, honestly,” you sigh, “I think the more important question is why me, because aside from my position, I’m just a regular, boring guy—even you acknowledge that I’m a boring person.”

Seoyeon moves to sit on your lap. “Just so you know, dating a boring guy is fun, as odd as that sounds,” she says. Truthfully, you’re glad to hear that, but you’re curious about the reason. “Just think about it, oppa: because you’d rather stay at home and be boring, I don’t have to worry about you running around the city looking for one-night stands or side chicks.” “I mean, yeah, but I also don’t go out much—isn’t it boring for you to stay at home with me a lot?” Your girlfriend shrugs. “I mean, you’re still willing to go out on dates when we have time.”

Now that Seoyeon has brought up that topic, you suggest getting dinner together tomorrow after work, which makes her light up. “Hmm, yeah, about that,” she fetches her tablet from the table, “the dance instructors are inviting you to attend a monthly evaluation tomorrow at 6 p.m.” “Okay, but can I have you after that?” Seoyeon doesn’t answer right away and scrolls up and down on her tablet. “Yeah, you can,” she says, “what do you have in mind?” “Dinner, love—did I not tell you that already?” Seoyeon laughs. “Sowwy, daddy.” “Daddy? What, you horny?” Seoyeon places her hand on her crotch and then yours. “I need a bit of warmup, but you seem eager.” “I’m always eager for you, baby, but do you want it?” You ask to make sure you have consent. “Only if you promise to make me cum.”

In the few years you’ve been dating her, only twice have you not made her cum, both involving you busting early: the first one was because you were strangled by her ass and couldn’t hold it back, and the second one was because you were not in peak condition. Seoyeon expressed her disappointment on both occasions but didn’t let you touch her to rectify your failure. Ever since then, you make sure to make her cum first before you try to chase your own orgasm, and it’s been working well so far.

You carry Seoyeon like a koala, and she circles different parts of your body with her arms and legs. Once you’re close to bed, you pretend as if you were going to drop her, making Seoyeon scream the loudest you’ve heard from her in recent memory—eh, actually, that scream she let out when you surprised her on her birthday was likely louder.

“That was so not funny, oppa,” she whines, “why would you do your girlfriend like that?” “Sowwy, baby.” You gently set her down on the bed. “How about that, love?” Seoyeon looks away momentarily. “I was about to get mad, but let’s be real, how can I get mad at you, oppa?”

You kiss her fleetingly. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you, baby? You’re always so kind and hard-working.” Seoyeon’s boba eyes widen even more while her cheeks are painted pink. “W-what are you talking about, oppa? Why so sudden?” You take a knee in front of her. “Baby, I’m so thankful for you, both personally and professionally; I seriously wouldn’t last a day without you.” She places her hands on either side of your face. “Thank you, oppa,” she says, “life has been very pleasant with you by my side.”

The two of you came to the bedroom to have sex, but here you are, crying to your heart’s content in each other’s arms because you’ve been overwhelmed by emotions. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” you wipe tears off your cheeks, “oh, I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to make you cry like this.” Seoyeon shakes her head. “W-with you, I-I cry because of the right reasons, oppa.” You chuckle slightly. “Is this a good segue to sex, though?” Seoyeon pecks you on the forehead. “Us crying right now means good emotions, and good sex needs good emotions,” she says.

After calming down, Seoyeon takes off her T-shirt, revealing a black bra that you love seeing her wear the most. “I consent, oppa.” You join her in undressing and let your clothes scatter all over the place. “I love you, sweetheart,” you say softly, “I’m glad to be with you all the time.”

Seoyeon falls backwards onto the bed, and you take the chance to take her shorts and panties off. “Oppa, before we start,” she calls a timeout by placing a finger on your cheek. “Please don’t get in my ass; I’m not in the mood for it.” “Of course, baby—thanks for letting me know.”

You grind your tip against her entrance, and Seoyeon promptly starts moaning. “Vanilla is great, isn’t it, baby?” “Y-yes,” she says, “I-I can feel how much you love me.” “That’s great to hear,” you whisper, “here I go, baby.” “Yes, make love to—oh!”

With little problem, you ease your cock into her pussy, her warm walls hugging your shaft snug. You hear her soft and angelic moans in your ear, and you’re doing your best to keep this tempo that’s nice and relaxed amidst the temptation to go hard and fast.

“Oppa, I love you—I love you so much.” “Oh, I love you more, darling; more than words can express.” Seoyeon lets out a mix of giggles and moans. “Really?” You peck her on the lips before answering. “We’re having sex right now so that I can show you, instead of telling you.” She places her soft hand on your cheek. “Keep showing me, then, oppa.”

You hug her tightly as your shaft moves in and out of her, exchanging moans with each other freely. Seoyeon suddenly lifts her butt off the bed while yelping. “You alright, cutie?” She nods. “J-just goosebumps,” she says. Now that she’s mentioned it, you notice that you also have goosebumps on your forearms. “We’re equal, baby.”

You’ve lost track of time at this point; the pace makes it feel like it’s been hours, but neither of you is showing signs of impending orgasm just yet—at least that was the case, until Seoyeon announces that she’s getting close. “Y-you need to go faster if you want to make me cum, oppa,” she says. “I don’t want to—it sounds exhausting,” you crack a little joke. She lets out a gasp of disbelief, playing along with your joke. “Su-surely you’re not that mean.”

You straighten your posture and fold her in half. “Oh, I’m so ready for this,” Seoyeon approves of the change of position. Once your knees are set, you start pumping into her fast and hard. “Yes, daddy, yes!” She pulls out the kinky name out of her bag. “Fuck me, daddy!”

Your girlfriend is moaning without any care about anything else, while you’re endlessly fucking her; whatever agreement you had about vanilla and making love has been thrown out the window.

“More, more! Make me cum, daddy!” Seoyeon is great at pushing the right buttons at the right time to egg you on. You fasten your grip on her ankles and move your hips as fast as you can while praying that you won’t bust too fast.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” “Y-you only no-noticed that now?” You chuckle a little. “Yeah, kind of,” you say, “are we ready to cum yet?” “S-soon, daddy.” “Hard to get, aren’t you, cutie?” Amidst the endless moaning, Seoyeon manages to let out a laugh. “Y-you love me f-for it, d-don’t you, daddy?” “Damn right.”

After what feels like forever, Seoyeon finally announces that she’s ready to cum any second now. “Just a bit more, daddy, please.” You opt to let her legs relax and come in for a hug, having had enough of being rough. “Come on, my love,” you whisper in her ear, “cum for me, please.”

A part of your mind wonders if the slower pace will postpone her orgasm, but no is the answer you’re getting, as Seoyeon asks you to pull out when her orgasm hits, her legs and thighs shaking as per usual. You lie on your side next to her while your hand gently runs on her head. “You’re always so pretty, baby—even prettier when you cum, might I add,” you praise her. She wants to say something back, but her heavy pants prevent her from doing so, hence the nods. “Take your time, baby; we have all night.”

-

You’re getting some looks from a bunch of people when you’re walking through the building with Seoyeon, and you wonder if you’re simply being paranoid. “Baby, is it just me or are they looking at us weirdly?” “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.” Seoyeon picks up the pace of her steps while keeping her gaze forwards.

You invite her to your office before releasing her into the wilderness that is secretary work. “I’m sorry, baby; I just wanted to make Dayeon-ie stop flirting with me.” She sighs. “Yeah, it’s fine; I didn’t want to stay silent while she kept pursuing you either.”

The bell to your door rings, and Dayeon appears soon after. “Hello,” she says, “am I interrupting?” You and Seoyeon look at her in confusion. “No, no,” you break the silence, “please come in, Dayeon-ah.” As she gets closer, you see that her eyes are red—she must’ve spent some time crying. “I-I’d like to submit my resignation letter.” Dayeon places a piece of paper on your desk, sobbing as she does. You quickly scan the letter, and under the reason section, she’s written that “she is no longer able to stay professional at work.”

Aside from her shenanigans, Dayeon is great at her work. As a former idol herself, she has a keen eye when it comes to evaluating trainee candidates, hence how she was able to keep her position this long despite her occasional unprofessionalness.

As thoughts run amuck in your head, Dayeon sobs more and more. “S-sign it, please, sir,” she urges you. You pick up a pen from your shirt pocket, but you can’t bring yourself to sign the letter. “Oppa,” Seoyeon steals your attention, “don’t sign it.” Both you and Dayeon look at her confusedly. “Let her stay, oppa; we need her.” “I-I literally tried to steal your boyfriend, Seoyeon-ah—why would you let me stay?”

Seoyeon holds Dayeon’s hands. “I know you did, but at the same time, you didn’t know that we were dating; I don’t want to punish someone for being clueless,” she reasons, and you think that it’s a reasonable point. “She’s right, Dayeon-ah,” you support your girlfriend’s idea, “you’re a valuable personnel in this company.” You put down your pen and the letter. “Now that you know about our relationship, I hope that you’ll stop chasing me and be able to put your expertise to good use.”

Seoyeon pulls her into a hug, which makes Dayeon burst into tears. “T-thank you, Seoyeon-ah—thank you, boss. I-I promise I will work hard.” Your girlfriend looks at you with a smile and teary eyes, and your eyes are threatening to release tears because of this sight.

Dayeon quickly pulls away from the hug and wipes tears off her cheeks. “S-someone give me orders—please tell me what to do.” Seoyeon whispers something to her ear, and considering how her eyes widen seemingly in shock, it must be something crazy. “What did you say to her, sweetie?” Your girlfriend doesn’t answer while Dayeon makes her way around your desk and kneels between your legs.

“Let me suck your cock, sir.”

You look at Seoyeon, who has a naughty smirk on her face. “What the hell did you just tell her?” She shrugs. “She wanted your dick, so that’s what she’s getting.” You want to say something back, but you’re distracted when Dayeon unzips your trousers. “Look at her, oppa, and tell me she’s not excited right now.” Dayeon indeed seems excited and ready. “Fine,” you decide to play along, “we’re not doing this ever again, just so we’re clear.”

You inhale sharply when you feel Dayeon licking the tip of your cock. “I will make sure you remember this, boss—you can tell me later if I’m better than your girlfriend.” “Just get on with it, please,” you say, oddly eager about getting a blowjob from another girl—a home wrecker.

She parts her lips and slowly negotiates your shaft into her mouth, seemingly (and understandably) struggling with your unfamiliar size. In the corner of your vision, you see that Seoyeon is moving to stand behind Dayeon. “Deeper, slut—if you want to please him, you have to show more effort.” She pushes Dayeon’s head forwards, making her gag on your cock. “Sweetie, be gentle with her,” you say. “Nah, she can take it.”

It is when the gags get worse that Seoyeon lets Dayeon remove you from her throat. “N-not too rough—h-have mercy, please,” she begs. “Do you want to please him, or no?” Dayeon nods weakly. “I-I do, b-but please let me do it at my own pace.” “Fine,” Seoyeon steps away from you and Dayeon, “continue, then.”

Dayeon turns her attention back to you. “W-water, please.” You grab a bottle that has some leftover water from yesterday. “Open your lips, cookie.” Once she opens her mouth, you guide the bottle towards her and help her take a sip. She finishes the water in one go, and unfortunately for her, that’s all you have. “Sorry, I haven’t refilled my water today.” She shakes her head. “I-it’s fine, I-I’ll manage.”

She starts stroking your cock, indicating that she’s ready to go again. “S-sorry, oppa, my gag reflex is so bad.” You rub her face gently. “Do you want to stop?” “B-but Seoyeon-ie said—” “Don’t worry about her,” you interrupt, “if you don’t consent, then we must stop.”

After thinking about it, Dayeon decides that she wants to stop right here and asks both your and Seoyeon’s consent to try again some other time. Seoyeon suggests inviting Dayeon to your apartment on Saturday night, which you have no problem with. “We’ll see you again on Saturday, Dayeon-ah.” “Y-yes, sir,” she says, “t-thank you for the opportunity.” You smile at her. “Now, get yourself tidied up and start working, please.”

While Dayeon gets herself sorted, Seoyeon extends the invitation to attend a monthly evaluation to her, mentioning how Dayeon’s experience might help the company make decisions about these trainees. “Yeah, I’ll be there—thanks for inviting me.” During the exchange, you see that Seoyeon is starting to soften up to Dayeon, which provides you with some much-needed relief.

It is when Dayeon exits your office that Seoyeon approaches you again. “I love you,” she says, “everything I do for you is out of love, oppa.” “I know, sweetie; I’m always thankful for you.” You and Seoyeon move towards each other at the same time for a kiss. “I’ll see you later, oppa.” “I’ll see you later too, sweetheart.”

-

The clock shows 4:00, which means that it’s time to go to that meeting that Seoyeon has prepared materials for.

“So, to remind you, we’ll be talking about some debut-related stuff with a bunch of people—the important things for this meeting are in this binder.” “Thank you, sweetheart,” you take the big binder from her hands. “You’re attending too, aren’t you?” Seoyeon laughs. “We both know you can’t go through the day without me.” You nod. “I know, sweetie, and that’s why I asked.”

Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as you walk towards the meeting room with her. “I’m nervous, baby,” you say. “Honestly, same,” she replies, “believe me when I say that I'm glad I’m not the boss of this company.” “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be joining me soon, Miss Yoon.” You try making a joke to suppress the nervousness.

You believe that you have valid reasons to be nervous; the future of this company depends on whether the 5-member group that’s going to debut in January next year succeeds. Not only that, but these 7 trainees who have been spending so much time training at your company are very hopeful about making the debut team—it’s going to be so damn painful for everyone when you announce the two trainees who won’t be debuting in January.

When you enter the room, Min Suhye and Min Suji, the dance and singing instructors respectively, are waiting for you. “Hey, guys,” you greet them, “how are you two doing?” Suji’s face lights up. “We’re doing very well; these trainees have been working really hard and really well recently.” Her words blow tenseness away from your mind. “Well, you guys deserve all the credits; you’ve been tireless with them.” Suji looks at her sister momentarily. “Yeah, actually, we’d like to take a bit of PTO next week or the week after.” You figure that they deserve some much-needed rest, so you agree to let them take leave, and in turn, let the trainees get some rest as well.

After a short wait, you’re joined by the choreographer and music production team. “Hi, hi,” the choreographer greets you, “sorry for being late; I had a discussion with Sihyeon-ie.” “Is she okay?” You ask because you care about these trainees and their instructors. “Yeah, yeah—she just had questions about some choreo details.” You’re glad to hear that people are as serious about this as you are; it would be difficult to proceed if someone were to lose motivation during this long process.

To not waste more time, you start today’s meeting. The production team plugs in their laptop to the speaker and projector, taking the first turn to “speak.” “Which one do you guys want to check out first?” You see on the big screen that there are demos titled A through D, each around 3 minutes long. “We’ll start from the top, okay?”

Demo A immediately catches your attention; it sounds fun and exciting with the uplifting beat, and the supposed chorus part has that banger factor (your opinion, not official production term). Demo B and C sound cute, but C in particular sounds quite generic. “Maybe we can include B as a B-side,” you think. Finally, you arrive at D, which sounds like another title track material. “A or D as title,” you write on your little note.

“I’d like to hear what everyone thinks about each demo,” you start the discussion. The instructor sisters love C but are worried about it coming off as boring, so they vote for D instead. Your beloved Seoyeon, on the other hand, thinks that A should be the title track, like you do. You’re glad that she’s of the same opinion, but you make sure that your face doesn’t show any sign of bias in front of these people.

“I think A is great,” says the choreographer, “we should be able to make a catchy choreo that sticks to people’s minds.” Before casting your vote, you ask what the production duo thinks. “When we were making these demos, we thought that maybe we could include C in the EP; I personally think that it’ll be a fun addition to it, you know.”

After a short discussion, it is decided that A and C will be in the debut EP: A is the title track while C is a B-side track; someone suggests putting C at the end of the play. “Yeah, sounds great,” says production, “we’ll be working on the lyrics soon.” You thank everyone for making the time for the meeting and sharing their opinions on the demos, earning smiles from each present. “I hope you guys remember that you guys are important to me and this company,” you say. You want to say that you’ll be giving them bonuses based on the group’s success but it’s probably best to keep it as a surprise.

Seoyeon approaches you after everyone has left. “Did I do well, sweetie?” She nods. “You always do well, but sometimes I wish you’d show more authority.” You scratch your chin as you think about her words. “I mean, I just wanted to listen to everyone’s opinions first.” She nods again. “Thankfully there wasn’t much disagreement today, but should it happen in the future, you’ll need to be able to take point, oppa.”

Someone’s knocking at the door, so Seoyeon makes her way towards it to check. “Oh, it’s you—come in.” Dayeon appears at the door with a plastic bag in her hands. “Erm, I bought some kimbap for you guys—I-I wanted to get donuts but I don’t know if you guys like sweet stuff.” “Thank you, Dayeon-ah; we were about to get food ourselves.” With a sheepish smile, Dayeon hands the bag over to Seoyeon, who doesn’t seem to be in the best mood, before leaving the meeting room.

“You alright, sweetie?” Seoyeon sighs. “Just wondering if giving her a second chance was a good idea.” “Sweetie,” you hold her soft hands in yours, “you know I would never cheat on you, right? I’ll make sure Dayeon doesn’t get too close to me.” She sighs once more. “Just… don’t leave me for her, please.” You assure her that such thing won’t happen; you love Seoyeon so much and don’t want to see her go.

-

“Oh, hi, Jihyun-ah—going somewhere?” You catch Jihyun, one of the two eldest trainees, leaving the training room. “D-director,” she’s visibly surprised to see you, “I-I was going to get some water for us.” Based on her sweaty forehead, you can tell that she’s been practicing hard. “I’ll get it for you; please return to the training room.” Jihyun seems reluctant to accept your offer, but she doesn’t dare argue. “Yes, director—thank you so much.”

You grab a box of bottled water from the storage and carry it towards the training room where the trainees are. “Good thing you’re fit,” Seoyeon quips. You chuckle. “I know, right.” As soon as you enter the training room, you’re met with bows and hellos from the trainees. “Hi, hi, hi,” you put on a kind smile for them, “Jihyun-ie said you guys needed some water, so here it is.”

You hand a bottle of water to Jihyun, who then passes it over to the other trainees until everyone has a bottle in their hands. You invite everyone to sit in a circle on the floor, and Sihyeon, the other eldest trainee, tries to get a chair for you. “That’s not necessary, Sihyeon-ah; I’m just your co-worker, not your dad,” you make a little joke, making her laugh a little. “Come, guys, let’s just sit on the floor.”

“So,” you start, “how’s everyone doing?” You make sure your tone is gentle in front of these exhausted trainees. “We’re fine for the most part, sir,” Jihyun answers on their behalf. “Most part, Jihyun-ah? Is there something wrong?” Jihyun reveals that Sunbin has been feeling some pain in her right calf because she didn’t stretch properly. “Are you okay now, though, Sunbin-ah?” Sunbin says that she’s feeling better after having applied some ointment on her calf, which brings relief to your heart. Sunbin is the youngest despite being of legal age and is also a big softie, so it stings to hear that she was in a bit of trouble.

“Director, director,” Sunwoo steals your attention. “I-if it’s okay with you, can we have some pizza and fried chicken, please?” You burst out laughing. “Of course you can, Sunwoo-yah—look, do your best for tonight’s evaluation, and I’ll buy each of you a box of fried chicken and two large pizzas to share; how about that?” Everyone’s face lights up as the room is filled with excited cheers—look, Soobin is beaming right now!

As trainees, dietary restrictions can be quite rough on them, so the fact that you’re agreeing to their request brings joy to their hearts. “Order for them, please—buy some for us as well,” you whisper to Seoyeon, who immediately pulls out her phone to order food.

You spend some more time talking with the trainees and are soon joined by the Min sisters and Dayeon, who are here for the evaluation, and everyone starts getting on their feet. “Girls, huddle, please,” you join them in the circle, “you are so close to debuting, and I know you guys have what it takes.” “Thank you, sir,” Jihyun says. “Fighting on three—one, two, three, fighting!”

You and Seoyeon take a seat at the big table with the Min sisters and Dayeon. “We’re ready when you are,” you say. “Good luck, everyone!” The song starts playing after everyone’s gotten to their positions—they’re doing a dance cover of tripleS’ Girls Capitalism, followed by a full cover of Kep1er’s Love on Lock right after.

You put on a serious face as the trainees go through the first cover and nail some important details from the original performers—shit, Sunbin seems to be in discomfort. “Pull through, Miss Jeon; c’mon, you can do this shit,” you say in your head, hoping that it’ll reach her. Your attention is stolen by Jihyun, however, as she steps closer towards the table to make a big impression on you and company. “Good job,” you mouth to her, drawing a small, proud smile on her face.

Sunbin immediately falls seated onto the floor after the cover is finished, scrunching her face because of the pain. You step away from the table to check up on her. “Are you okay, Sunbin-ah?” She nods weakly. “J-just my calf, director.” Jihyun passes you the ointment and you open the cap. “Excuse me, Sunbin-ah; I’ll help you apply some of this, okay?” Only when she nods do you start putting ointment on her leg. You then help her sit on a chair and return to yours. “You can sing your lines while sitting, Miss Jeon,” you say, “everyone else, please proceed as planned—eh, actually, drink some water first."

“You’re so kind to them, director,” Suhye makes a comment. “I don’t want to simply be a boss to them, Suhye-yah,” you reason. Suhye doesn’t say anything back, and you take it as a sign that she agrees with your approach.

The girls move to take their positions for the next cover, and Jihyun is the last person to get ready because she was still taking care of Sunbin. She seems to have also said something to her, and you hope that it was words of motivation or comfort.

The second song starts, so you shake your head to get rid of other thoughts in order to focus on the performance. It’s been smooth so far; Sunwoo and Daeun seem to be more immersed in this cover compared to the previous one—they must like this sort of song more. Jihyun, the always passionate one, is doing her best too, along with Hyeonju, Sihyeon, and Soobin.

Unfortunately, however, Sihyeon’s voice cracks a little, but she manages to stay focused and carry on. You and Seoyeon, in a moment of like-mindedness, quickly put up the OK sign to help assure her that she’s okay. Another thing to note is that Sunbin is giving absolutely everything despite being seated, showing everyone present her perseverance that is second-to-none, and at this point, the best choice of action seems to be debuting all 7 of them.

Once the performance finishes, you start a wave of claps, and in response, the trainees bow in respect and gratitude. “Well done, everyone,” you say, “now, I’ll have your instructors say their feedback.” “I’d like to start,” Dayeon says, so you let her do so. To your surprise, she leaves her seat and starts undressing, thus revealing her idol-like practice attire that consists of sports bra and compression shorts. “Wow, she came prepared,” you think. Apparently, you’re staring too much, proven by how Seoyeon pinches your thigh as punishment.

Dayeon gives Sihyeon some feedback and goes as far as showing examples, and the other trainees start replicating her, taking the guidance seriously. “I understand if you’re not too big on showing your curves, but it’s often necessary,” she adds. “Oh, and don’t forget to make eye contact even when you’re in the center.” After Sihyeon, Dayeon turns her attention to Soobin, who apparently was caught lacking.

“Soobin-ah, I want you to look at me and then compare my moves with yours, okay?” She does this piece of choreography like the pro she used to be—muscle memory goes crazy when it comes to dancers and athletes. Dayeon then tells Soobin to do the same and is quick to see the part that was not good in her eyes. “Right there, stop,” she says, “where’s the detail on that move, Miss Park?” Soobin repeats the piece once more, but she still doesn’t manage to satisfy Dayeon. “Oh, c’mon,” she’s getting heated, “stick your butt out some more when you’re doing those steps, Miss Park.” Soobin does the move again as instructed, and admittedly, that last try looks better. “There, that’s better,” she says, “remember the details, okay?”

Behind the standing ladies, Sunbin is looking at the floor, seemingly in low spirits. “Let’s talk to Sunbin-ie,” you say to Seoyeon, who follows closely behind you as you walk towards Sunbin. “Miss Jeon, how’s your leg?” “I-it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, director.” “Then follow us, please.”

Right as she’s stepping out of the training room, Sunbin starts crying. “P-please don’t fire me, director; I-I know I was wrong for not warming up correctly, but—” Her gust of tears interrupts her own words. Seoyeon promptly hugs Sunbin, making her gasp in surprise. “It’s okay, Sunbin-ah; accidents happen all the time,” she says, “please don’t cry, we’re not punishing you or anything.” “B-but—” Seoyeon doesn’t let her make a counterargument, placing a finger on her lips to stop her. “Just worry about your legs first, and then, I want you to remember this instance and warm up properly next time, okay?” Sunbin nods and hugs Seoyeon more tightly. “T-thank you so much, ma’am,” she says tearily.

-

Seoyeon falls onto bed as soon as you enter the bedroom with her after showering. “God, that was such a long day—it's helpful that dinner was very good.” “Thank you for sticking around until the end, love,” you don’t forget to express your gratitude. “That was me both as your secretary and your girlfriend, by the way.” “I know, love, and I’m thankful for you, like I always am.”

Your girlfriend gathers her might and moves to sit. “If you’re that thankful for me, surely you can do me a favor.” “Sure, baby,” you take a knee in front of the bed. “What can I do for you, baby?” “Why don’t you make me cum, hm?” You chuckle. “Yeah, I’d love to—I thought you were tired, though?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “We can pile on some more exhaustion so that we get better sleep.” “Sure, baby.”

You stand back up and stretch a little. “Wouldn’t want to pull a muscle like Sunbin-ie.” Your little joke makes her laugh. “She’s so cute, isn’t she?” “Yeah, that’s something I wouldn’t say—I don’t want to come across as creepy, you know.” Seoyeon pinches your forearm. “You should be more worried about me, if you catch what I’m saying.” “Oh, I know.” You’re getting impatient to start. “Are we ready to start, or no?”

Seoyeon pulls her T-shirt over her head and uses it to cover her body. “Are you okay, love?” “I don’t like this bra,” she says, “I don’t think I look good in it.” A few questions pop up in your head: which bra is this, why does she not like it, and what did she mean “I don’t look good in it,” because Seoyeon looks good in everything and nothing. “Can I look?” She shakes her head. “Turn around, oppa; let me take this off myself.”

You do as she asks and let her do her thing. “Here,” she hands the bra over. You see that it’s a nothing-out-of-ordinary sports bra. “What’s wrong with this, baby?” “It makes my breasts look flat, and I don’t like it—not when I’m trying to have you between my legs.” You scratch your head as you try to come up with something to say. “Baby, look,” you start, still wondering if it’s a good thing to say. “You are attractive, ‘kay? You don’t need to worry about looking flat or whatever, because respectfully, you are very hot.”

Your girlfriend beams and taps your face gently. “Congratulations, you passed the test,” she says. “Test? What do you mean?” “Ah, don’t worry about it, oppa; just know that it was the correct answer.” You’re speechless, unsure of what to make of this situation. “C’mon, oppa, touch me.”

You’re still stumped even after getting rid of your clothes. “Baby—” Your words are cut off when Seoyeon starts stroking you. “C’moooon,” she picks up the pace, “get hard and fuck me already.” It is when she thinks you’re properly hard that she lets go. “There you go—now please fuck me.”

You pretend like you’re about to kiss her, only to turn her around and have her bend over. You place a palm on her pussy to check if she’s really ready. “You can feel how wet I am, can’t you, daddy?” A mix of gasp and moan escapes her lips when you stick two fingers in her pussy. “I-I’m ready for you, daddy,” she states the obvious.

With your cock in hand, you slowly and gently ease it into her, earning a long moan from her until the entirety of your length is inside. “S-say something, daddy; t-tell me I’m good.” The way you’re bending forwards allows you to hold her tits and say words right into her ears without compromising your pace. “You’re always good, baby; I will never get tired of you,” you say, “you’re such a good person on the outside and a sexy lady on the inside—speaking of inside, you’re also so damn tight all the time.” “T-thank you, daddy,” she lets out a moan before continuing, “t-the way you tended to Sunbin-ie was a-attractive, you know.”

You laugh internally; you say what you said because Seoyeon wanted to be praised, but she mentions Sunbin in her reply. “This moment is ours, love; let’s not bring work to bed, hm?” Seoyeon nods slightly. “I-I’m sorry, daddy.”

As a gesture of accepting her apology, you start moving your hips faster to reach that sweet spot of a tempo. Seoyeon then straightens her back so that only her knees are on the bed, and you do the same in cooperation. “Fuck me like this, daddy.” “You love taking me deep, don’t you, baby?” “Oh, oh, yes, I do; I fucking love it when you’re hitting me deep.”

Seoyeon is active today, moving her hips downwards to meet your thrusts in the middle. You reach around and begin stimulating her nub, making her moan louder and faster. “Daddy, daddy,” she chants, “y-you’re going to make me cum.” “Yeah? Is that so?” Your speech is rather breathy at the moment. She turns her head to the side. “Kiss me, daddy.”

Seoyeon, after taking a few dozens of thrusts from you, suddenly slams her hips while screaming from the top of her lungs—poor girl didn’t have the chance to announce her orgasm because of how sudden and hard it hit her. At the same time, her walls are squeezing your shaft really hard.

You notice that she’s getting weak and threatening to tumble forwards, so you fasten your hold of her body to make sure she doesn’t go face first into the bed. “Great job, love—that must’ve felt good, right?” “A-amazing,” she answers weakly. “You’re also amazing, baby.” You send a barrage of kisses to the back of her head (because you don’t have access to her face) to make sure she knows that she’s appreciated.

“D-daddy,” Seoyeon captures your attention again. “C-cum in me, please.” “Gladly, baby—here I go, okay?”

You start off slowly, savoring your girlfriend’s tightness and warmth to the max since you were busy being fast on her earlier. “I love you, baby; I love you so, so much.” “I love you more, daddy—oh, yes, daddy.” You ask if she can help you get closer to orgasm by grinding her hips against yours, and she does just as you ask. “Oh, you’re amazing, baby; you’re always so fucking amazing.”

With a grunt, you release semen into her core, filling her to the brim and earning a very sexy moan from Seoyeon, who immediately falls onto the bed as soon as you let go of her torso. You slowly retreat from her pussy while placing a hand underneath to catch the excess cum. “Oh, you’re holding it in—good work, baby.” “I-I don’t waste your cum ever, do I?” You peck her in the forehead after flipping her over. “That’s true,” you say.

[thatstupidone]

Red Hood stopped at the Titans Tower, the place he knew his replacement would be. He had checked the logs, and security cameras, there was no way he wouldn't be here. Jason was going to teach the little birdie a lesson.

Except the kid wasn't there. In fact it looked like no ones been here in days. With a rage filled punch he ended up putting a large hole in the wall. The misty green anger clouding his better judgement as he stalked out the tower, ready to search all of Gotham for the replacement.

It wasn't until he was passing by one of the closed stores that he saw Robin in the reflection of the window. At least he thought he did, but when he took a second look there was nothing. Jason just continued his search, trying to get the image of Robin staring at him out of his head.

Jason didn't end up finding the replacement. Hell he couldn't even find anything that suggested the kid was even real! To add onto his problem he kept seeing the little shit at every turn. Jason was pretty sure he was going crazy.

He saw him in the shadows of the alleys. Saw him when he was meeting with some goons and making sure they followed his rules. Saw him when when he wasn't out as Red Hood. Everytime he was just staring at Jason, like he could see into his soul, but every time Jason tried getting a closer look he was gone the next second.

After a week he was almost close to just tracking down Bruce and forcing him to do something, because he couldn't be fuckin hallucinating all this! Items around him were starting to become misplaced, some money here, a book there. Even his bike was once moved!

What finally did it for him though was after he came back to one of his safe houses at midnight. The place was his most protected one. He just wanted coffee, but then the lights shut off. Immediately Jason reached for one of his guns, looking around, he swore he saw the kid in front of him. (And no, he didn't scream.) When the light turned back on no one was there.

The next night he found himself on the rooftops of Gotham. He had placed himself right in the middle of Bruce's patrol route, he was going to end this now.

"Red Hood." Batman greeted with a clipped voice.

Jason slowly reached for his helmet. He noticed how tense Bruce was, he was waiting for an attack, but this wasn't for that.

"Hey, B." He replied once the hood was off, the domino mask now the only thing covering his face. "I want you to tell the replacement to fucking stop this shit." He got right to the point.

Bruce gave him a confused hum, "Explain-"

So Jason did. He told him of how the little shit kept appearing and disappearing and that he was definitely doing it to mess with him and that there was going to be violent consequences if it didn't stop.

Silence settled over them after the threat before Bruce spoke again, confusion and concern lacing his voice. "Tim has been out of the city for the last week, on a mission. Are you okay Jason?"

"I know what I've been seeing! And I've looked everywhere- when I was, you know. Anyways I just want to he left the fuck alone! I don't even care about hurting him anymore!"

Jason didn't wait for Bruce to say anything else, making his exit. The entire conversation had him really starting to doubt if he was right or this really was some hallucination.

It wasn't until two days later that he saw the kid again. This time though, when he blinked, the kid was still there. Sitting in the kitchen of his safe house in his civvies, instead of the usual Robin outfit, and drinking fucking tea. He had the balls to turn to Jason with a smirk on his face!

This time when he went to punch his replacement he wasn't seeing green and fueled only by rage. He grunted as be fell to the floor after tripping into the now empty chair.

"You fucking bitch!" He screamed as he pulled himself up. Glaring at the teen. "You're lucky if I don't still decide to kill your fucking ass!!"

Tim just laughed. At first the idea was just to disappear until Red Hood stopped, but then he found out who the guy really was- and well Tim wasn't going to pass up on the perfect opportunity to mess with his former hero.

They played a little game of cat and mouse until Jason gave up in trying to hurt Tim, he honestly didn't even know if it was worth it now. He just made himself a cup of tea, along with another one for Tim as his cup got cold, and actually talk with him. It was odd, but not un welcomed.

It wasn't the last he saw of his idiot brother. Some times he would just pop up and disappear, other times he joined Jason for tea or even a meal. Jason swore he was going to catch his disappearing act one day, prove he wasn't just insane.

[withahappyrefrain]

For Drabble 2:

NSFW PROMPT: “Don’t hide from me. Let me see you!” w/ Mr. Tyler Owens 🤠

So I know this is supposed to be smutty but I got in my feelings for Tyler and insecure!reader. Talk of body image issues, language, Tyler being a real sweetie.

The bed was squeaky, the sheets accompanying it appeared to be knitted but in reality they were scratchy, and you were pretty sure there was cigarette smoke dusting the walls.

Normally you'd complained. Except the person you would complain to was currently pressing kisses into your neck.

Alcohol can make you do strange things, like karaoke or confessing to your coworker you had a huge crush on him.

You didn't think Tyler would tease you, he wasn't like that. At most, you were expecting a subtle acknowledgement of your slip up and for it to never be brought up again.

Sure, Tyler was flirty. But you figured he had to be that way with everyone; he was so charismatic. That's why you never thought anything of it when he commented on how great you looked, or how he would place a hand on your waist when he was passing by.

So when he confessed he felt the same way, it was shocking to say the very least.

His hands felt huge as they skimmed your body. His breath was a mix of bourbon and mint, no doubt from the gum he chewed while driving you back to the motel.

"You're so soft," he murmurs, voice hot on your skin, "Fuckin' love it."

Tyler's words make you feel warm all over. You can feel the pit of desire forming in your stomach.

His fingers found the hem of your dress, toying with it.

"Oh, we don't have to..." You began, the idea of him seeing all of you under these lights mortifying. He could pass as a Calvin Klein model and you were just.....yourself.

"Do you want to?" He asked, piercing green eyes staring into yours.

You want to, God, did you want to.

But that would require him to see all of you.

"Yeah, I do," you paused, "If you want to."

Maybe he would want to save it for another night. That would give you time to eat light or even go workout beforehand.

Instead he just smiled, "I would."

Fuck.

Okay, you could do this. Just get up and turn off the lights. Then he can't see you and you won't have to focus on what you look like. Besides, he wouldn't mind.

"Where ya goin'?" His question caused you to freeze, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"To....turn off the lights?" Wasn't it obvious?

Tyler's brows knitted together in confusion, "Why?"

He was actually genuine. Great.

"Y'know....." You motioned to your body, "So you don't see.....y'know."

Now Tyler was offended. You were absolutely gorgeous, why on Earth would he not want to see your body?

Better question, who the fuck made you think that?

That was what caused his face to soften, "Hey, c'mere."

Timidly, you walked towards him. His hands encompassed yours. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. The gesture was so heartwarming, it made your eyes begin to water.

"Can I make a confession?" You nodded, signaling for him to continue, "I've thought about doing this with you like every day. With the lights on."

"I'm sorry," you began, but he shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Just don't hide from me, okay? I wanna see you. All of you."

You nodded, though hesitation still ran through your veins.

"Would it help if I took my clothes off?" He offered.

You snorted, "Honestly, no. You're all chiseled and I'm just.....soft."

Tyler tried to hold back a chuckle, but failed. Hearing the sound made the tension leave your body, your shoulder relaxing for the first time in the last ten minutes.

"Alright, then we'll just start slow. Tell me stop at anytime, alright?"

Which is how you found yourself lying on your back, dress pushed up to your plush hips, and Tyler in-between your legs.

His tongue was fucking talented, and not just for explaining meteorology.

Your hands gripped his soft blonde hair as he lapped up your release. Even after you had cummed, he still continued his ministrations, as if he was determined to pull another one out of you.

His lips wrapped themself around your clit as his fingers traced your entrance. Once it had gathered enough slick, he thrusted a finger inside you.

Your walls clenched around him, welcoming the intrusion. Soon another digit joined as he angled his fingers to ensure they reached the spot that made you see stars.

White hot pleasure sent sparks throughout your body, starting at the pit of your stomach, all the way down to your toes and fingertips. You heard the bed shift and creaked, but didn't register it until you felt Tyler's lips against yours.

His tongue slipped between your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. His fingers still thrusted in and out of your core, only now at a lazy pace. The edge you had been teetering over was now slipping away.

"Tyler," his name came out as a whine, "Need-"

"I know, pretty girl," somehow that twang of his was more pronounced, "But I need ya to do something for me before you can make a mess on my hand, 'kay?"

You nodded, barely registering his words, your hips too busy trying to cant upwards in an attempt to get more of his fingers.

Tyler knew what you were trying to do and withdrew his fingers. A desperate keen fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. His hands gripped your plush hips, steadying your body.

"Please Ty, I-"

"Tell me five things you like about yourself. Then I'll give ya whatever ya want pretty girl."

This man was going to be the death of you.

[astridsastroids]

𝑲𝑬𝑬𝑷 𝑰𝑻 𝑶𝑵

rules for the blog masterlist

summary: Miguel suggests some miyagi-do merch but Robby has other plans

pairing: fem!reader x Robby Keene

note: english is not my first language i apologise for any errors whether grammar or spelling, first story yay all characters are of age

warnings: swearing,unprotected sex (irl wrap it up before you get stuffed up),very mild teasing, cum on tits, illusion to aftercare, little fingering, mild clit stimulation (let me know if I left something out) 18+ MDNI

happy reading -💋 love from Astrid

Robby got to the dojo, and everyone was buzzing with excitement. The sekai takai was soon rolling in, and those who were going were gathering a few things. Hawk pulled him to the sparring deck where everyone was gathered. "Hey, he's here; we can finally open the box," Hawk said, grabbing a package knife and handing it to Miguel.

"So I may or may not have persuaded sensei Larusso to buy us team jackets for the sekai takai. I mean, who knows when we'll get this opportunity again, you know," he said, opening the box.

They all got their respective Miyagi-do jackets. "Thats fucking cool, letterman jackets. I never thought Id see the day I'd be happy for a jacket," Hawk continued on. "I mean it looks like sick Miguel.". *Robby sighed a little "it's nice I guess."

"Okay you want the jacket or complain about it?" Miguel asked as Robby took a look at his and admired it for a bit, then both sensei's appear. "Miguel thought you guys would want some team identification outside of your GI's, so he came up with the idea. I was questioning it but now I think it looks great" Daniel stated. "Pretty badass if you ask me, though it should have been black in my opinion, white gets dirty pretty quickly" Johnny said, patting Miguel's shoulder. "thanks man." Hawk put his jacket on.

Robby observed the jacket before putting it in his bag "I'll try it on later. don't wanna get it dirty too quickly" he says zipping his bag "Okay, enough with the jackets; we have to pack and get some last-minute training in," the sensei said, and they finished up what was needed to be done

Afterward, Robby got a ride from Miguel and Johnny. "So Robby, being captain, are you nervous for the competition?" Miguel asked, "Of course not. He's like an eagle waiting to devour the cobra. He's ready.".

Johnny said, entering the roadway close to where they live, "I am nervous. I won't lie. Being captain sounds difficult. You know high expectations, but I got it." At least he hoped, "Oh yeah, can you drop me off at my girl's, please? I just need to tell her about the flight and accommodations for the tournament and stuff."

Johnny proceeded to take him there, not second-guessing it. "You know, if you want 'quality time' with your girl before we leave in two days, you can just say so you know you can't be frustrated at the tournament" Robby face palms himself. "Dad, can we not please?" 

"Yeah, sensei, I second that; please stop." Miguel joined in, asking him to stop soon. They had parked up to his girlfriend's home, and Robby got out of the car. "Thanks; I'll see you guys tomorrow." He took his bag, and the car drove off.

Robby knocks on the door, and soon his girlfriend was at the door. "Robby! I haven't seen you in a while." I embrace him. "hey sunshine, sorry I've been busy preparing for the tournament" he let go of her and shut the door "come on I was actually gonna get to bed, I was calling a early night my mom has guests over, book club gossip never rests" I led him upstairs.

"Sorry for the mess; I've been busy lately," I say, kicking a few water bottles out the way. "It's fine; trust me, my room is worse." He sat on my bed. "so you flying out in two days, excited?" I ask him as I sit next to him "only if you promise to be there" he gently nudged me with his shoulder "I will, I spoke to my mom and everything, I'd never miss it" he pecked my lips.

"So you know, with the whole tournament coming up, apparently Miguel wanted us to have team jackets," he said, taking out the stuffed jacket from his bag, and I clapped my hands happily. "Let's see, please." I took the jacket and admired it.

"Woah, babe, this is awesome, may I?" He gives a nod with a smile, and I put the jacket on. I look in the mirror. "This is so cool; I wish I had one." He looked at and admired the jacket. "and it's girlfriend sized" I tease "you know you look really good in it, probably better than I would" He stood up and came behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist "you like it?" I nod looking back at the mirror.

He kissed my ear and whispered, "I love it on you too." He kissed down my neck. I let a slow breath out, "Slow down, Romeo, my mom has guests over." I turned to him and kissed his cheek walking past him before he pulled me close to him and put his hands on my waist.

"You better not make me regret this." He sat on the bed and pulled me on top of him. He pulled me into a heated kiss. "Mhm"

"You can be quiet, right?" He kissed me. "My girl can be quiet." I pushed him back gently. "Robby don't baite me in" I looked at him, my mind trying not to go to those places. "Why not?, every athlete needs some relaxation." I playfully rolled my eyes

I lifted his shirt and tossed it aside. I kissed him from his neck down his torso. I got up and undressed. "Just leave the jacket," he said, sitting up on his elbows. "You sure?" he nodded. I comply, leaving on my underwear and the jacket. He leaned back near the headboard and once again pulled me onto him. "Youre so fucking perfect, baby," he kissed me and grabbed my hips.

I moved his hands to my rear and sat up slightly and put my hand to his chest. I faced him before moving my hips against him. "fuck just like that babe, just like that, that's a good girl" I moan softly "oh baby I can feel how soaked you are, is that for me? Mh?"

He groans into her ear "Yes" I say breathless "yes" He stops the motion and I whine "why'd you stop?" He smiled and moved from the bed, to my arm chair in the corner "you said your mom's home last thing I want is everyone listening to the headboard hit the wall, come here" I went to him and straddled him.

He kisses all over my chest, my head slumped over his shoulder enjoying the sensation "Be good and slide those panties to the side for me" I follow his command wanting him desperately now

He pumps his fingers slowly inside me, I moaned softly before he pulled them out "don't do that" he looked at her with a grin "do what?" "Tease me, don't tease me, please" he rubs over my clit "fuck Robby" I whine "just like that" he stopped once again turning her over, her back against his chest. He releases himself from his pants and grinds me on his cock as he slowly rubbed my clit.

"Mhm Robby" he rubs slightly faster and I moan. "Keep going, please keep going" And with ease he slipped into me, I pulse around his cock "oh you feel good, so fucking good" he stopped his hand on my clit and moved them both to hold my legs wider so I could feel him deep.

I moaned out as my head falls back into his chest and I feel my hands clench and unclench "Mhm, hmm Robby fuck" he groaned through clenched teeth "Don't make me cover your mouth, be quiet" he quickened his pace and coos "that's right"

My hand immediately goes to his hair pushing him harder against myself he looked up at me while continuing to eat me out, I bit my lip trying to control my sounds "fuck, fuck that feels good" both my hands go to his head and in grind against his mouth desperate to come.

"yes yes yes" I chant on, his hand went over my mouth "why can't you keep quiet" his pace turning brutal "Shh, we can't be to loud" he knew he was about to come so he stopped. "No no" I mumble through his hand as he put her back on the bed "keep them open" I look at him as as I watched his warm mouth connect with my pussy.

"Just- mhh- Robby!" He replaced his mouth with his fast paced fingers as his mouth met mine to silence my moans, my stomach clenched as my legs tremble "Come for me, come for me" I give in coming over his fingers, he withdrew them and smacked my cunt, he re-entered with no warning

He catches his breath for a bit, he looked down on me and rub his come all over my chest and stomach like lotion. "You did so good baby" he kissed her "let's get you cleaned up and in bed okay" I nod "okay".

The new found sensitivity feeling so good but too much, he thrusts urgently "I'm not done yet baby not by a long shot" I grip his arm tightly as I moan loudly before he kissed me once more "fuck I'm close" he carried on thrusting "mhm, fuck yeah, you feel fucking amazing" he groaned before pulling out and jerking over my chest coming all over it.

Aaaahhh don't Gimme that side eye, literally my first story and the first time I write smut, I'll definitely try to improve.

[melodic-haze]

h-hey 👯‍♀️😕😜🎀

Since you said in your other post that you wanted to write for either Miko or Ei, I HAD AN IDEA!!

What if Miko and fellow kitsune!Reader who start their breeding months (in january obviously) and have Ei volunteering herself to them not knowing that they can’t obviously be sated in just one day 🙄 (r.i.p her cunny)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: switch!Miko x sub!Ei x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader and Miko can shift what they want (specifically their genitals 😄), knotting and breeding (not really)

☆ — NOTES: You. YOUUUUUU. Are such a genius ily anon ty for this 🙏🙏🙏

Ohhhh this bitch REALLY fucked around and found out LOL I almost feel bad.......almost

Have to hand it to Ei though, she DID try to research before proposing the idea in the first place. Especially since this is set in the first year since she got out the PoE........but studying it obv won't be the same as the real thing LOL

You and Miko have fared relatively okay on your own—the two of you have ABSOLUTELY mated before to ease each other's heat but it always felt like something was missing. You both made sure to take procedures to make sure neither of you ever concieved a child after the process with the excuse of the two of you being way too busy to care for one but like. The actual main reason was that if you were to have a child, you both wanted to have the third piece of the puzzle there with you

Now that the third member of your polycule's back, your heats are STRONGER THAN EVER bc wtf she's acc here??? Ughfhghfhh neeeeeed......like do you get me I hope you do

It wasn't as if it was a normal discussion to have out in public (you both always talked about it indoors until neither of you needed to really talk ab it anymore from all the time spent w each other) but it was a nice picnic between the three of you; Ei's head was on Miko's thighs as she ate up yet ANOTHER skewer of tricolour dango while you were leaning on the latter's side when she brought it up

Ei cleared her throat with a slight tinge of nervousness, "Could I perhaps, ah.. assist the both of you in your mating period?"

You choked on the dango that you were about to swallow as you see Miko startle the slightest bit, nearly dropping her novel in the process.

When you managed to regain your composure (or at least a modicum of it), you could only rush out a simple "'scuse me?" as Miko placed her book down to the side with a raised brow.

Miko combed her fingers through Ei's hair as she questioned, "What brought this on, dear?"

"Well..." The Archon licked her lips as she slowly got her words out, "I've.. left you two for over five hundred years. And while I'm glad that you both had each other for company whenever the season hits, I cannot deny that.. well, I feel bad, I suppose."

"You feel bad," the shrine priestess mocked, which.. really, wasn't all that undeserved, despite the fact that she was mocking the nation's leader.

"For a lack of a better word, yes." She sits up and turns to the both of you, putting the now-empty skewer aside, "Now that I have returned from my admittedly self-imposed isolation, it would be remiss of me to.. avoid my duties as your lover."

"I don't mean to be rude, Your Excellency," you teased, "but do you even know what you're saying? You've been in the Plane of Euthymia for so long; I worry for your safety."

You hear the pink fox envoy let out a quiet snort of amusement for your slight condescension (all in good faith, of course) as Ei sighed, "I think you forget that I am not a fragile mortal who needs to be coddled—I can withstand brutal wars and come out victorious."

"Besides," she adds, "I have done a fair amount of research to refresh my knowledge. I assure you both that I can take whatever it is you give me."

Miko mused, "I thought you knew better than to rely on textbook information rather than actual experiment, Ei."

"You're trying much too hard to dissuade me from my offer."

"We both deserve to rib into you for at least a couple hundred years."

"Especially considering how we've been left to fend for ourselves..."

"I.. suppose I do deserve that. And I want to make amends for it all, starting with this. So.. will you let me help? Please?" She looked at the both of you with such sincerity despite the subject matter.

...

The fact that Raiden Ei herself was begging the two of you though...

The both of you jumped her sides with sharing grins, your ears flicking in sync as you let out your own laughs.

"You should hope that you don't regret that, Ei.."

"..Because we are rather.. insatiable."

Then comes the actual thing and ohhhhh girlie was NOT prepared

When I said your heats get worse bc of how Ei's back, I fucking MEAN IT. It's the fact that that familiar sweet smell isn't just a not-quite-forgotten memory for you two anymore that it's just driving you both abslutely NUTS

When she gets to you two she gets POUNCED ON and there is. Basically no break for her at all and foreplay is basically foreGONE atp tbh

Eat her cunt like a bitch STARVED it's like both you and Miko are competing and assisting each other at the same time like who can eat her out better, who can make her squirt, etc etc

SO MANY BITE MARKS ON HER HOLY SHIT like okay yes on you and Miko as well but both of you want to mark Ei EXTREMELY for all the time you've lost with her. The both of you wanna show both Ei and perhaps the entirety of Inazuma that archon is YOURS at the end of the day......at least, if the loud noises didn't give them enough of a hint 🤷‍♀️

You're so right anon rip Ei's cunny indeed bc both you and Miko ABUSE the living HELL out of it❗️❗️❗️ You do often have to personally pry Miko off when she's overstaying in the spot you're supposed to share 🫶🫶🫶🫶 just tell her she's being a VERY bad girl rn and she'll fold. Usually she wouldn't but the haze (lol) in her mind is sooo fucking thick she can't think straight and she can't think of the witty remarks she would've otherwise made :((( poor baby the only thing she wants to do is breed and get bred :(((((((

I need to spitroast her with Miko so very badly I'm ngl to you I neeeed I NEEEEED I need to see Ei being impaled on both ends, both sides basically slobbering

It'd be very messy and would 100% take so long before you finish but when you do, it's with your fellow kitsune's own pussy practically filled to the brim and Leaking as she's laid out and finally passed out as your hips are locked in on your Archon's own; you cumming inside of you for like the nth time and stuffing her full w a mix of both your and Miko's cum and essentially plugging it with an inflamed bulb :3

Whether Ei has a system that allows her to get pregnant or not, gen who knows.......but one thing's def for sure. Or like three things acc: one, you two are VERY clearly excited that your shared lover is finally back; two, turns out she absolutely LOVES being used and bred by her two partners; and three?

It was an unusually hard thing to do, waking up. Despite having an artifical body and being an archon that has faced true horrors and extreme exhaustion, she found herself absolutely spent from the marathon.. copulation.

Ei had hoped that her exhaustion meant that the two of you were much more tired than she was, even despite your inhumanity, and yet...

Her eyes couldn't help but flutter open as a sudden gasp left her lips—she sees you push into her roughly with a lust-addled look on your face. You were already inside her when she fell asleep, considering the animalistic knot that held the both of you together, but even when it had shrunk to a more.. manageable level, you still hadn't taken it out.

Then Ei looks slightly to the right and there she sees her pink-haired familiar, heavily breathing as she grinded her wet, hot pussy onto her thighs with such loud, obscene moans.

(If the Archon listened close enough, which she did, she would've noticed the slight growl to the sounds she made—such a sound was at its most clearest when she ducked down to press another bite mark on porcelain skin.)

She couldn't even utter a word to remark that she had just woken up, didn't even have the room to do anything to stop you before you started pounding away at her like your life depended on it.

..And she could. Really, she could. She wasn't the feared Raiden Shogun for nothing.

She could stop you if she wanted to.

If she wanted to.

But when she feels the residual fluids within her gush out as you essentially resculpt her insides over and over and over, when she feels the desperate whines that Miko lets out as she cums and covers her thigh in slick, well.

She finds that she doesn't really want to.

(And really, not only was it her fault for volunteering, but this is her responsibility as your lover.)

(She knew that, and she wasn't going to start shirking her responsibilities again.)

(Even if it costs her her mobility for a while. But it's fine, she can just do a lot of maintenance after.)