#window display services

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

got a new laptop on sale yayy 😎 hopefully a zoom meeting will no longer threaten to wipe out my whole machine

[binickimaging]

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[ruins-of-gods]

Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[faebled-stories]

Turbulence

Kinkvember Day 16: Mile High Club

Nmixx Oh Haewon x Male reader

8.8k words

“Hello, everyone! Welcome back to WORKDOL!” Haewon’s voice rang out with a contagious spark of energy, her words riding the crisp autumn breeze that teased strands of her dark hair across her face. She tucked them back with a practiced flick of her fingers, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. The sunlight played across her features, a golden halo highlighting her natural charisma as she gestured toward the sleek entrance behind her.

“I’m your beautiful and loving host, Haewon, and today’s challenge is taking me to new heights—literally.” Her laughter carried an edge of anticipation, and her enthusiasm practically leaped through the camera lens. The airline training facility behind her loomed like a modern cathedral of glass and steel, its polished facade catching the sun in a dazzling display that mirrored both her energy and the grandeur of the setting. The gleaming reflection framed her figure, a dynamic blend of her bold personality and the facility’s imposing elegance.

Spinning back to face the entrance, her boots clicking smartly against the pavement, she spread her arms in an exuberant gesture. “I’ve done some pretty wild stuff on this show, but today, I’m stepping into the shoes of a flight attendant. And trust me, there’s a lot more to it than just handing out snacks at 30,000 feet.” Her grin widened as she took a confident step forward. “Safety, service, and smooth skies—I’m going to learn it all. Let’s see if I can keep up!”

The automatic glass doors slid open with a whisper, releasing a wave of cool, conditioned air that carried a faint hint of jet fuel and a clean, soapy freshness from the nearby uniforms. Pausing inside the cavernous lobby, Haewon drew a steadying breath, her chest rising and falling as she absorbed her surroundings. The space was vast yet orderly, sunlight pouring through towering windows onto sleek tiled floors. The low hum of conversations mixed with the soft beeping of security scanners, a quiet symphony of activity that spoke of precision and focus.

It was then that she saw you.

Standing near the check-in counter, your presence immediately commanded attention. Your tailored navy-blue uniform was impeccably pressed, each detail from the sharp creases of your slacks to the polished silver wings on your chest exuding professionalism. Yet, it was your demeanor that truly captured her focus—a calm, collected confidence that made the bustling environment seem to orbit around you. When your eyes met hers, there was something both grounding and electric in your gaze, a quiet assurance paired with a welcoming warmth.

“Welcome aboard, Haewon,” you said, your voice low and steady, carrying an effortless blend of authority and approachability. Extending a hand toward her, you added with a faint smirk, “Ready for a crash course in being a flight attendant?”

She took your hand, her grip firm yet lingering just a beat longer than necessary. “Oh, I think I’m ready,” she replied, her tone light with a teasing edge. A playful glance back at the camera crew underscored her words. “The question is—are you ready for me?”

The faintest flicker of amusement crossed your face, softening your otherwise composed expression. “I’ve trained a lot of people,” you said smoothly, your tone betraying nothing but cool professionalism. “But I have a feeling you’re going to be... different.”

Her laugh rang out, light and musical. “You have no idea.”

Falling into step beside you, Haewon matched your calm stride, her eyes occasionally flicking toward you as if trying to decipher the layers beneath your poised exterior. The hallway stretched ahead, its polished floors gleaming under the soft glow of overhead lights. The distant hum of simulators grew louder with each step, a low, almost hypnotic vibration that thrummed through the air.

“So,” she began, her voice playful, “do you always keep it this formal, or are you saving the charm for later?”

You glanced at her sidelong, the corner of your mouth twitching in the faintest smile. “Let’s focus on the basics first,” you replied, your tone both firm and teasing. “Charm might come later—if you earn it.”

She let out a soft laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she shot you a challenging look. “Challenge accepted.”

When the training cabin came into view, Haewon slowed, her steps faltering ever so slightly as she took in the scene before her. The replica interior was a flawless facsimile of an airplane cabin, every detail meticulously crafted to mimic reality. Pristine rows of fabric seats stretched into the distance, their neatly aligned headrests giving an air of almost military precision.

Overhead compartments gleamed under the soft fluorescent lighting, their edges perfectly contoured. At the far end, emergency equipment was arranged with a precision that exuded both order and a subtle, sobering weight.

For the first time, Haewon felt the enormity of the task ahead. Her playful energy wavered just a touch, replaced by a flicker of trepidation. This wasn’t just another challenge for the cameras—this was about responsibility. Lives could depend on what she was about to learn.

“We’re starting with the safety demonstration,” you said, your voice calm but carrying a note of gravity that pulled her back into the moment. “Passengers rely on flight attendants to guide them in emergencies, so this is one of the most critical parts of the job. You’ll learn how to operate the oxygen masks, life jackets, and cabin doors.”

“No pressure, right?” she quipped, her grin returning, though there was an edge of nervousness beneath it.

You gave her a reassuring smile, stepping forward with practiced ease to open an overhead compartment. The soft click of the latch released the panel, and you retrieved a bright yellow oxygen mask. The tubing coiled slightly as you held it aloft, the rubberized surface gleaming under the lights.

“Step by step,” you said, offering the mask to her. Your hand brushed hers briefly, the contact fleeting yet charged enough to make her pause. Haewon quickly recovered, mimicking your demonstration as she secured the mask over her face. Her movements were careful, deliberate, though she couldn’t help but notice how your steady gaze stayed on her, assessing, encouraging.

“Not bad,” you remarked, a flicker of amusement in your eyes as she fumbled slightly with the straps. “You’re a quick study.”

“I’m great at learning... with the right teacher,” she replied, her smirk returning as her confidence steadied.

Your expression didn’t waver, though there was an unmistakable warmth in your tone as you handed her a life jacket next. “We’ll see if that holds true,” you said. “Let’s keep going.”

The training session continued with a steady rhythm, each task blending professionalism with an undercurrent of tension that simmered just below the surface. As you demonstrated how to secure the life jacket, Haewon’s focus wavered. Her attention was drawn to the way your hands moved—precise, confident, every gesture purposeful.

When you stepped closer to adjust the straps on her shoulders, your fingers brushed against her collarbone. The contact was fleeting but sent a ripple of heat through her skin, as if the touch carried an unspoken promise. Her breath caught for just a second, and a soft flush crept up her neck before she quickly composed herself, hiding her reaction behind a practiced, teasing grin.

“There,” you said, stepping back to assess your work. A faint smile played at the corners of your lips, a mix of satisfaction and subtle amusement. “Now you’re ready.”

“Think I’ll pass the test?” she asked, her tone light, though a slight waver betrayed her lingering nerves.

“You’re doing well so far,” you replied, your voice low and steady, the warmth in your tone an unspoken reassurance. The way your gaze lingered on hers for just a moment longer than necessary sent her pulse racing. Then, as if sensing the shift, you turned away smoothly, giving her the space to collect herself.

When the meal service portion of the training began, Haewon found herself walking a fine line between playful confidence and distraction. Carrying the serving tray through the narrow aisles of the mock cabin was surprisingly challenging, especially with you standing close. Your quiet observations, both grounding and unnerving, felt like a spotlight she couldn’t escape. She could feel your presence even when you weren’t speaking, your calm authority acting as both a guide and a silent challenge.

By the end of the ground training, Haewon was beaming with pride. Her earlier apprehension had melted into a palpable sense of accomplishment. She straightened her posture, adjusting the collar of her uniform as she turned to you. “Not bad for my first day, right?” she teased.

“You’ve done well,” you admitted, a hint of warmth softening your typically composed demeanor. But then your expression shifted, a spark of anticipation flashing in your eyes. “But we’re not done yet. In about an hour, you’ll put everything you’ve learned to the test—on a real flight.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, though excitement quickly replaced any hesitation. “An actual flight? Already?”

You nodded, your faint smirk returning. “No pressure.”

Her laugh was bright and full of confidence, though a nervous energy buzzed beneath the surface. “Bring it on.”

-----

The short break passed in a blur, and before Haewon knew it, she was standing in the aisle of an actual airplane, her hands clutching a laminated safety demonstration card. The hum of the engines filled the cabin, a low, steady vibration that thrummed through her feet and echoed in her chest. The lighting overhead cast a warm glow, softening the sharp lines of the space and lending it a strangely intimate atmosphere.

You stood nearby, your posture relaxed but your gaze sharp, watching her every move with quiet intensity. Despite the weight of your presence, Haewon felt a thread of camaraderie growing between you, a subtle shift in the dynamic that had begun during the ground training. She could see it in the way your gaze softened when she stumbled slightly, and in the faint curl of your lips when she recovered with a self-deprecating joke.

The flight was already underway, the cabin filled with the faint murmur of passengers chatting, flipping through magazines, and settling into their seats. The scent of coffee brewing in the galley mingled with the sterile metallic tang of the recycled air, creating a distinct atmosphere unique to being miles above the earth.

Haewon stood near the forward galley, her hand resting lightly on the counter. She adjusted her uniform self-consciously, keenly aware of your steady presence just a few steps away.

“Ready for service?” you asked, your tone calm, with just enough of a challenge to make her lift her chin confidently.

“Born ready,” she quipped, grabbing a tray from the counter with a playful flourish. Her confidence faltered slightly when the tray shifted awkwardly in her hands, but she recovered quickly, shooting you a grin. “No big deal—I’ve got this.”

Your lips twitched in the faintest of smiles. “Let’s hope the passengers feel the same.”

Haewon stepped into the aisle, her posture straightening as she approached her first task: offering drinks and snacks to the passengers. The tray was heavier than she anticipated, the weight testing her balance as she maneuvered through the narrow space. Her heart beat a little faster when she caught you watching her, your gaze steady, assessing, and just a touch amused.

As she handed a cup of coffee to an elderly passenger, she glanced over her shoulder. “See? Flawless,” she said lightly, her grin widening.

“Not bad,” you replied, following her at a measured pace. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“I’m more than getting the hang of it,” she retorted, her voice playful as she breezed past you to the next row. “I’m a natural.”

The subtle challenge in her tone drew a soft chuckle from you, though your expression remained composed. The exchange felt like a dance, her energy bouncing off your calm reserve in a way that kept her sharp and on edge.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, your voice low enough that only she could hear. “The day’s not over yet.”

By the time the aisle service was complete, Haewon’s steps carried a bit more confidence. She returned to the galley, her tray empty, and set it down with a triumphant flourish. “Mission accomplished,” she declared, turning to face you.

“You’ve done well,” you acknowledged, a note of approval in your tone that made her pulse quicken. “But the real test is consistency.”

“Oh, I’m all about consistency,” she replied, tilting her head challengingly. “Care to test me?”

Your gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary, the tension between you thickening with every second of silence. Just as the moment threatened to stretch into something unspoken, a chime from the cabin interrupted. You glanced away first, your professionalism snapping back into place like a shield.

“Passengers first,” you said, your tone lighter now, though the flicker of warmth in your eyes remained.

Haewon followed your lead for the rest of the flight, her confidence growing with every completed task. Yet, no matter how routine the work became, she couldn’t ignore the charged undercurrent in your interactions. Every time you brushed past her in the galley or caught her gaze across the cabin, her heart skipped a beat. The professionalism you maintained only heightened the tension, leaving her thoughts spinning and her pulse racing.

-----

As the plane leveled out and the hum of the engines steadied into a calm rhythm, the cabin lights softened, casting a warm, golden glow over the space. The passengers had settled into a quiet lull, the initial excitement of the flight giving way to a tranquil, almost meditative calm.

Haewon stood near the galley counter, her hands loosely gripping the edge as she exhaled, letting the whirlwind of the day finally catch up with her. Her body hummed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, the tension of performing ebbing away to leave a buzz of satisfaction.

A few steps away, you leaned casually against the galley wall, your posture at ease but your gaze sharp, still assessing her as though the challenge hadn’t quite ended. The subtle intensity in your expression made her pulse quicken, though your silence carried no judgment—only a quiet, thoughtful admiration that sent her nerves fluttering.

“You did well,” you said finally, your voice low and steady, breaking the stillness like the first ripple in calm water. “Better than I expected.”

Her lips curved into a playful smile, the rare note of praise filling her with a quiet thrill. “Was there ever any doubt?” she teased, tilting her head as she leaned back slightly against the counter.

The faintest chuckle escaped you, soft and warm, like an echo of her own energy. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, the flicker of amusement in your expression lighting your features.

The honesty caught her off guard, her grin faltering for just a second before returning with a bolder edge. For a fleeting moment, the dynamic between you shifted, the playful air giving way to something deeper. Your expression softened, the lines of your usual composure blurring into something unguarded. The change drew her in, the hum of the plane fading into the background as the tension between you thickened—unspoken but palpable.

“You know,” she said, her voice light yet laced with teasing, “I think I’ve earned a little celebration for surviving my first day. Don’t you?”

Your brow arched slightly, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

Her response caught in her throat for a moment, and the faint heat that bloomed in her cheeks only added to the weight of her words when she finally spoke. “Something… exclusive,” she said, her voice steady but rich with a daring undertone.

The meaning behind her words hung in the air, unmistakable and electric. Your gaze deepened, amusement giving way to something more deliberate. You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur that seemed to wrap around her. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Her heart thundered against her ribs, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped closer, closing the space between you with a confidence that surprised even her. The smile on her lips grew, soft yet determined, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve been ready all day.”

For a moment, the cabin around you seemed to fade. The muted golden light cast soft shadows across your face, highlighting the quiet intensity in your gaze as you studied her. Neither of you moved, the charged silence between you tightening like a drawn bowstring.

Then, with deliberate calm, you extended your hand toward her. Your touch was firm yet gentle, grounding as you guided her away from the galley. She followed without hesitation, her pulse racing as you led her toward the back of the plane.

At the rear, you pushed open the small lavatory door, the soft creak of its hinges cutting through the hush. Your hand lingered at the small of her back as she stepped inside, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver up her spine. When the door clicked shut behind you, the energy that had simmered between you all day finally erupted.

The confined space sharpened every sensation—the soft rustle of fabric as you turned to face her, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the sterile metallic air, the heat radiating from your bodies in the tight quarters. Her breath hitched as your eyes locked, the tension that had stretched between you snapping in an instant.

Your hands found her waist, pulling her to you as your lips claimed hers in a kiss that was both searing and deliberate. Her gasp was muffled against your mouth as her fingers threaded into your hair, drawing you closer. Her body arched into yours, every inch of her responding to the intensity of the moment.

Your lips trailed from hers to her neck, lingering along the sensitive skin as you placed slow, deliberate kisses. Each touch drew a shiver from her, her breath catching when your teeth grazed her pulse point. “Are you sure about this?” you murmured against her neck, your voice rough with restraint.

Her reply came shaky but resolute, her hands clutching your shoulders like an anchor. “I’ve never been more sure,” she whispered, her pulse hammering beneath your lips as she tilted her head to give you better access.

The cramped space seemed to vanish as the moment consumed you both, the world outside forgotten in the wake of the energy unleashed between you.

The space was impossibly small, the metallic walls almost brushing against your shoulders, and the occasional jolt of turbulence only heightened the intensity of the moment. The space smelled faintly of disinfectant, mingled with the subtle trace of Haewon’s perfume—a delicate floral scent that teased your senses.

As you leaned back slightly against the narrow counter, Haewon knelt before you, her movements deliberate, her gaze unwavering. Her eyes, dark and filled with a mix of longing and playful confidence, locked onto yours, and the weight of her focus sent a shiver down your spine. Her breath was steady but quickening, her lips parting slightly as she settled into position.

The rustle of fabric was almost deafening in the otherwise quiet space as you undid your belt, the metallic clink of the buckle punctuating the silence. Haewon’s hands moved lightly to your thighs, her touch sending an electric jolt through your skin. Her fingers curled slightly, their delicate pressure grounding you even as your pulse quickened.

Her lips parted with deliberate intent, her breath warm against your skin as she began, her tongue tracing the underside of your length in slow, purposeful strokes. The first touch sent a shiver through you, your breath catching as she took her time, savoring each movement. Her tongue flattened against you, the slick glide paired with soft, teasing flicks that made your pulse pound. The confined space seemed to amplify everything—the wet sound of her tongue, the low, needy hum vibrating in her throat, and the sharp inhale you couldn’t suppress as her mouth enveloped you.

She started with an almost agonizing slowness, her lips forming a tight seal as she slid over you, her cheeks hollowing slightly as she sucked with increasing intensity. Her tongue danced in deliberate patterns, tracing every vein and ridge as if committing them to memory. Each time she withdrew, she paused to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your length, her lips lingering as if savoring your taste. The contrast between the wet heat of her mouth and the cool air when she pulled away only heightened your sensitivity.

Her arousal became evident as she worked, her thighs pressing together as if seeking friction, a faint sheen of moisture beginning to darken the fabric at the apex of her legs. She shifted slightly, her hips grinding subtly against the floor as if responding to the growing heat building within her. A quiet, breathy moan escaped her lips as she took you deeper, the vibration against your skin sending a wave of pleasure surging through you.

Haewon’s movements became more confident, more urgent, her lips sliding over you with a rhythm that left no room for hesitation. She adjusted herself, her knees pressing firmly into the floor as her fingers dug into your thighs, holding you steady. Each time she took you into her throat, her muscles relaxed just enough to accommodate you, her moans growing louder as her arousal deepened. The faint scent of her arousal mixed with the confined air, a subtle but intoxicating reminder of how much she was enjoying this.

She pulled back slightly, her tongue flicking against your sensitive tip before she plunged forward again, her pace quickening. Her movements were fluid yet hungry, her cheeks flushed with exertion and desire. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, catching the dim light, her effort and arousal written across every inch of her face. Her thighs shifted again, the friction of her movements drawing faint, involuntary gasps from her lips. You could see the way her body responded, her nipples pressing against her shirt, and the faint wetness between her legs growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in her hair, guiding her rhythm as she moaned around you, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. She glanced up, her eyes glassy with desire, locking with yours as her lips stretched around you. That single look—filled with submission, need, and the unmistakable hunger to please—nearly undid you. Her mouth worked with a relentless precision, her tongue swirling in ways that left you gasping, her moans becoming increasingly desperate as if her own pleasure was tied to yours.

Her free hand slid up her own thigh, disappearing beneath the fabric of her shorts. You could see the subtle movement as her fingers pressed against herself, her hips rolling slightly to meet her touch. The sight of her pleasuring herself while her mouth remained focused on you sent a fresh wave of heat surging through your core. Her moans grew louder, muffled by your length, the vibrations intensifying as she worked herself closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Haewon,” you groaned, your voice thick with desire. She responded by taking you deeper, her throat relaxing as she let out a low, guttural moan that sent your head spinning. The slick heat of her mouth combined with the knowledge of her growing arousal pushed you closer to your breaking point.

As you felt the tension cresting, you tugged her hair gently, guiding her upward. Her lips released you with a wet, lewd pop, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and glistening, and her eyes dark with lust. Her thighs pressed tightly together, her arousal evident in the way her breath hitched, the damp spot on her shorts impossible to miss as she rose to her feet.

You tilted her chin upward, your thumb brushing along her jawline as you gazed into her eyes. “You’re fucking perfect,” you murmured, your voice thick with need. Her lips parted, her breath quick and shallow, as she leaned into you. The heat radiating from her skin matched your own as you claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against you.

Haewon’s breaths came faster now, shallow and uneven, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips betraying the storm of emotions building within her. The vibrations of the plane beneath your feet, steady and unrelenting, seemed to mirror the pulse racing through her body, each tremor adding fuel to the fire already burning between you.

As you lifted her onto the counter, her body trembled beneath your touch. Her thighs pressed against your hips, her wet heat already evident even through the thin layers of clothing. The way her legs instinctively wrapped around your waist made your heart pound harder. Her hands gripped your shoulders for support, her fingertips digging into your skin as though anchoring herself to you. Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms, her breath catching with every soft, involuntary sound that escaped her lips.

Her arousal was undeniable in every movement, every soft gasp and whimper filling the small space. Her hips shifted forward to meet yours, the friction building with every press of her body against yours. The scent of her, faintly sweet and musky, mingled with the sterile air of the lavatory, creating a heady atmosphere that heightened your senses.

When your hand slid beneath her skirt, brushing against the damp heat of her panties, her body jolted at the contact. She let out a shaky moan, her hips arching instinctively to press herself closer to your touch. Her wetness had already soaked through the fabric, clinging to her folds, and as you slid the thin material aside, your fingers were met with slick, yielding warmth. “Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling, her thighs quivering around you as you teased her.

You lined yourself up, the heat of her body radiating against you as you pressed the tip of your length against her entrance. Her breath hitched sharply, her nails digging into your shoulders as she gazed into your eyes. There was a flicker of vulnerability in her expression, one that gave you pause, but when she nodded, her lips parting to whisper, “I want this,” it was all the reassurance you needed. Slowly, carefully, you began to press into her.

Her body was tight—almost unbearably so—and the resistance you felt made you move even slower, your hips advancing inch by inch. Haewon’s lips trembled as her hands clutched at your back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “You’re so tight,” you murmured, your voice soft as you paused, letting her adjust to the intrusion. She nodded faintly, her eyes fluttering closed as you sank a little deeper, her slick heat enveloping you inch by inch.

Just as you were making progress sheathing yourself inside her, the plane lurched violently, a sudden jolt of turbulence rocking the small room. The unexpected motion drove you completely into her, the force of it pushing past the last barrier. Haewon cried out sharply, her back arching as her hands flew to your shoulders, gripping you tightly. Her cry wasn’t just from pleasure but something deeper, more visceral. You froze immediately, your heart pounding as you registered the slight quiver in her body.

Something felt different—there was a heat, a tightness, an overwhelming sense of newness that struck you all at once. When you pulled back slightly, you caught a glimpse of a faint sheen of blood on yourself. Your eyes widened in shock, and you instinctively met her gaze. Tears shimmered in her eyes, from pain and something softer, more emotional. “Haewon…” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly. “Are you… were you a virgin?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed as she nodded, her thighs still trembling against you. “Yes,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… It's okay. I wanted this. I wanted you.” Her words were firm despite the tears in her eyes, her expression filled with trust and desire. “I knew it would hurt a little, but I didn’t care. I wanted you to be my first.”

Her confession hit you like a wave, a mix of emotions flooding through you—pride, awe, and a deep, possessive protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked, brushing a hand along her cheek, your thumb wiping away a stray tear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled faintly, her hands reaching up to cradle your face. “You’re not hurting me,” she said softly. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Please… don’t stop.”

Her reassurance steadied you, her soft, trusting smile anchoring you in the moment. You leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow but deeply charged, your tongue brushing against hers in a rhythm that matched the gentle rocking of her hips. Her breath hitched as you trailed kisses down her jawline, your lips mapping the contours of her skin with deliberate precision. When you reached her neck, you paused, your breath warm against her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath her skin.

Your teeth grazed the delicate flesh there, and she let out a soft, startled gasp, her hips pressing forward as though urging you on. You closed your lips around the spot, sucking gently, your tongue soothing the faint sting as your teeth pressed into her again, deeper this time. Her fingers tightened in your hair, her quiet whimper sending a jolt of heat straight through you. The small bruise that bloomed against her skin was a mark meant only for the two of you, a memory hidden in plain sight.

She shifted against you as your lips moved lower, trailing across the sensitive curve of her neck. Each press of your mouth drew a soft moan from her lips, her body responding instinctively to your touch. The marks you left were subtle but unmistakable, scattered along the line of her neck with care, the kind of marks that would be easy to conceal yet impossible to forget. She shivered beneath your touch, her skin warm and slightly damp, her arousal palpable in every movement.

“Hold me,” she gasped suddenly, her voice raw and trembling with need. Her arms wrapped tightly around your neck, pulling you closer as her fingers tangled in your hair, gripping you as though she couldn’t bear to let go. The way she clung to you, her nails digging gently into your scalp, sent a wave of possessive desire surging through you.

Her hips began to move with more urgency, grinding against you with an unrestrained eagerness that left you teetering on the edge of control. Each thrust drew her closer, her moans growing louder as the rhythm between you became chaotic, driven by both the unpredictable sway of the plane and the unrelenting heat building between you. Her breath mingled with yours, her cries becoming softer, more desperate, her body melting into yours as she surrendered to the moment completely.

The sensation of her trembling against you, the heat radiating from her skin, and the intimacy of the marks left on her neck—all of it combined to push the tension higher, until every movement felt like a tidal wave, crashing through both of you.

Just as her moans reached a fever pitch, a loud knock on the lavatory door broke through the haze. “Is everything alright in there?” came a muffled voice from outside.

The sudden interruption sent a shock through both of you, and Haewon’s eyes snapped open, wide with surprise. The tension in her body, already at its peak, pushed her over the edge. Her inner walls clenched around you violently, her body trembling as the rush of adrenaline mingled with the overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her head fell back against the wall, her lips parting in a strangled cry.

Her release was sudden and explosive, her moans rising uncontrollably as her entire body shook. “I can’t… it’s too much,” she gasped, her nails raking down your back as her hips bucked against yours. The act of nearly being caught seemed to strip away the last of her restraint, her climax crashing over her with unrelenting intensity. Her wetness flooded over you, her thighs tightening around your waist as she rode out the waves of her release.

“Occupied!” you barked, your voice rough and commanding, echoing in the small space. The sound of it seemed to ripple through Haewon, her body jolting at the force of your tone. Her legs locked tighter around you, her inner walls fluttering as the vibrations of the plane and the moment’s urgency drove her deeper into ecstasy.

Her eyes met yours, glazed with pleasure and slightly dazed, her lips trembling as she tried to catch her breath. “I… I can’t,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. The sight of her—flushed, trembling, her neck marked with faint hickeys, her body still quaking with aftershocks—was enough to push you past the brink. Your thrusts became erratic, each movement driven by instinct as you chased your release. A guttural groan tore from your chest as you buried yourself deeply inside her, your climax hitting with a force that left you shaking.

The warmth of your release filled her, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the chaotic rhythm that had brought you both to this point. Your breaths mingled, the two of you clinging to each other in the aftermath, your bodies still pressed together as the world outside seemed to fade away.

The plane seemed to hum in harmony with the beating of your hearts as you held her close, your forehead resting against hers. The world outside the door ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in the aftermath of your passion. Haewon’s breathing was still uneven, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from the force of your kiss. Her hands slid up to cup your face, her eyes searching yours as a lazy, satisfied smile played on her lips.

You stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness, the intimacy of being completely wrapped up in each other. Outside, the distant murmur of passengers and the steady hum of the engines reminded you that the world hadn’t stopped for your moment, but inside the small lavatory, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies pressed tightly together as you caught your breath. The confined lavatory felt even smaller in the aftermath, the walls seeming to hum with the warmth of your shared passion. Slowly, you pulled back, your hands still resting on her waist as she leaned against the wall, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

Your eyes softened as you took her in—her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips swollen and glistening, and her hair slightly tousled. She looked utterly radiant, the glow of satisfaction mingling with a soft vulnerability in her expression.

“You okay?” you asked gently, your voice low and filled with concern, though the satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your lingering exhilaration.

Haewon nodded, her lips curling into a lazy, blissful smile. “More than okay,” she whispered, her voice still breathless and soft, tinged with the lingering traces of pleasure. Her legs trembled slightly as she shifted, her body still adjusting to the aftermath of what had just transpired.

As her gaze dropped briefly, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing a few strands of her tousled hair away from her face. The gesture was soft and unhurried, your touch lingering as you tucked the wayward strands neatly behind her ear. Haewon’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and when they opened again, they were filled with something deeper—an affectionate warmth that made her cheeks flush anew.

A small, shy smile tugged at her lips, and she couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re so gentle.” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the low hum of the plane’s engines.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering there as if to seal the quiet moment between you. “Only with you,” you murmured, your voice low and filled with meaning.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, her hands resting lightly against your chest as she savored the intimacy of your touch. But as the seconds ticked by, her gaze flicked to the small mirror on the wall, and her expression shifted. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her hand flying to her neck as she caught sight of the faint bruises left by your lips. “Are those…?”

You followed her gaze, your eyes catching the small, dark marks scattered along the curve of her neck. Her cheeks turned crimson, and her hand trembled as she traced the marks. “People will see,” she muttered, her voice rising in a soft panic. “What am I going to do? I can’t—”

“Haewon,” you interrupted softly, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Look at me.” She hesitated, her breathing uneven, but when her eyes met yours, the panic began to ebb. “I’ll fix it. Trust me.”

You glanced toward her flight attendant scarf, folded neatly on the small counter. Picking it up, you unfolded it carefully and turned back to her. “Here,” you said gently, moving to drape it around her neck. Her eyes widened slightly as your hands brushed against her skin, adjusting the fabric with deliberate care. You knotted it carefully, the silk falling into place perfectly.

“There,” you murmured, stepping back slightly. “No one will know.”

She turned toward the mirror, her fingers brushing against the scarf as she inspected it. The marks were completely hidden, and she let out a soft, relieved breath. “Thank you,” she said quietly, turning back to face you. Her voice was filled with gratitude, but there was still a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.

You reached out, brushing your fingers along her jaw, your touch light and reassuring. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said softly, your voice warm but tinged with something more serious. “But, Haewon… earlier…” You hesitated for a moment, searching her gaze. “I didn’t know it was your first time.”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing deeper as her eyes dropped briefly before meeting yours again. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I didn’t tell you because… I didn’t want it to change anything.” Her voice wavered for a moment, but she steadied herself, her gaze unwavering. “I wanted this. I wanted you.”

Her words hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest—pride, awe, and an overwhelming protectiveness. “Are you sure?” you asked gently, your thumb brushing against the side of her face. “I just… I don’t want you to regret this. Not here, not like this.”

Her lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile as she shook her head. “I won’t,” she said firmly, her voice soft but resolute. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted this moment with you. And I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

Her sincerity left you momentarily speechless, the weight of her words settling deep in your chest. You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was tender and deliberate, lacking the earlier urgency but brimming with something far deeper. Her lips parted softly beneath yours, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against hers, your hands steadying her trembling frame.

Her brows furrowed suddenly, and she crouched slightly, glancing around the cramped lavatory. “Wait…” she muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment as her hands brushed over the floor and edges of the counter. “Where are my panties?”

You leaned back against the door, crossing your arms with a teasing smirk. “How could you lose that?” you asked, your voice playful but low, watching her as she searched.

Haewon shot you a quick glare, her cheeks burning brighter. “They were here! They couldn’t have just disappeared!” Her tone was exasperated but softened by the lingering flush of earlier.

Her hands continued to skim over the limited space, but after another minute, it was clear they were gone—lost somewhere in the heat of your earlier passion. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her as she stood, smoothing her skirt down again. Her hands paused against the fabric as she realized there was no time to keep searching.

“I guess I’m going without them,” she admitted in a quiet voice, her cheeks glowing as she avoided your gaze. The mix of embarrassment and exhilaration in her expression made you grin.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured her, your tone warm but teasing as you placed your hands on her arms. “Besides,” you added with a smirk, “it’ll be our little secret.”

Haewon rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She adjusted her hair again with a shaky hand, though your earlier touch had already smoothed it into place. Her eyes flicked toward the door, her nervous energy returning as she cracked it open.

Just as she was about to step out, she hesitated, turning back toward you. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her lips curving into a shy, almost hesitant smile. You reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before leaning in to press a quick but tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, yet filled with warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that lingered as her lips parted slightly beneath yours.

When you pulled back, her eyes softened, the nervous energy in her frame easing slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quiet and filled with meaning.

“Always,” you replied just as softly, your hand brushing against her arm before she turned back toward the door.

She peeked out, glancing left and right to ensure the coast was clear, before stepping out into the aisle. Her stride was careful and measured, though her legs still trembled slightly beneath the polished professionalism of her steps. Her face was flushed, her hair still slightly a mess despite your attempts to fix it, and her lips retained the faint swelling of your kisses. Beneath her composed demeanor, the absence of her panties and the slickness between her thighs teased her with every step, a constant reminder of the intimacy you’d just shared.

You lingered for a moment, adjusting your cuffs and belt before stepping into the aisle yourself. Your gaze immediately sought Haewon, who was already walking ahead with a subtle confidence that belied the faint tremor in her legs. Her eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, a knowing spark passing between you that only deepened the warmth lingering in your chest.

As you resume your duties, the hum of the cabin returns to fill the air, but the quiet connection between you remains, a secret woven into the fabric of your stolen moment in the skies.

-----

After the plane had landed, Haewon moved to her place by the exit, ready to thank the passengers as they deplaned. It was a routine she had done countless times before—bowing, offering polite words, and smiling—but today, every movement carried an undercurrent of thrill. With each graceful bow, she became acutely aware of the warmth between her thighs, the undeniable sensation of your essence still inside her. Each slight pull of gravity as she bent forward sent a slick, teasing reminder of your earlier passion, and she fought to keep her expression neutral.

The sensation was impossible to ignore. As she straightened each time, she could feel it shift within her, threatening to escape, a subtle but constant tease that made her cheeks flush and her steps slightly more measured. The absence of her panties only heightened the awareness, the cool air beneath her skirt brushing against her skin, amplifying the delicious sense of exposure.

Each “thank you” and polite smile was laced with the secret she carried—the memory of your hands gripping her waist, your lips trailing over her neck, the way her body had clung to yours in the cramped lavatory. Her heart raced as the passengers filed past, oblivious to the intimate connection she now carried. The sensation of your lingering presence made her hyper-aware of every subtle shift in her body, each movement a vivid reminder of what had transpired.

Finally, the last passenger stepped off the plane, leaving the cabin quiet save for the soft shuffle of the crew tidying up. Haewon exhaled deeply, a faint sheen of sweat glistening at her brow as she leaned briefly against the wall to steady herself. Her knees still felt weak, her legs trembling slightly beneath her polished composure. She pressed her thighs together, trying in vain to quell the sensation that only seemed to grow stronger in the silence.

You approached her then, your expression calm and professional as always, though the teasing glint in your eyes spoke volumes. As you drew nearer, Haewon’s breath hitched slightly, her body betraying her despite her best efforts to appear composed. The memory of your touch, of the closeness you had shared, was written in every glance, every subtle tilt of your head.

“You did great,” you murmured, your voice pitched low, meant only for her. The rich timbre of it sent a fresh shiver coursing through her. “Though I couldn’t help but notice that extra sway in your step.”

She turned to you with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief despite the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “It’s a bit hard to focus,” she replied, her tone laced with sultry teasing, “when I’m walking around with a little… souvenir from my favorite instructor.”

Your grin deepened, the heat behind your gaze barely masked by your composure. Leaning in slightly, your breath ghosted over her ear, warm and intoxicating. “You’ll have to come back for more lessons sometime,” you whispered, your words curling through her like a spark igniting.

“Oh, I plan to,” she said smoothly, her voice steady despite the fluttering excitement in her chest. Turning away, her hips swayed ever so slightly, a calculated movement that let you know she was fully aware of your lingering gaze.

The conclusion of the episode approached, and Haewon effortlessly shifted back into her on-camera persona. Her radiant smile lit up the space as the crew positioned the camera for her signature closing moment. It was time for her to receive her payment for completing the challenge.

You stepped into frame, handing her a sleek black envelope. The thick paper was cool against her fingers, and as they brushed yours in a fleeting but electric touch, her pulse quickened. Your eyes locked with hers briefly, and the subtle curve of your lips—a barely-there smile—made her heart skip a beat. It was a silent reminder of the secret only the two of you shared.

Turning to the camera with her usual playful grin, Haewon slipped her fingers into the envelope, preparing to retrieve her reward. But as her hand delved inside, her breath caught for just a fraction of a second. Alongside the crisp weight of folded bills was something soft and unmistakable: her panties. Still damp, intimate, and undeniably deliberate.

As she pulled the panties slightly closer, the faint but unmistakable scent of the money mingled with hers, wafting subtly into her senses. The blend of clean linen bills and the warm, musky reminder of her own arousal sent a fresh wave of heat racing through her. Her eyes flicked briefly toward you, catching the faintest curve of your lips, the smallest glint of mischief in your gaze.

She noticed, stuck to the crotch of the fabric, a small sticky note that had absorbed some of her arousal. The faint ink of your handwriting was still visible, the note bearing nothing more than your phone number. Her cheeks flushed deeper, the intimate touch making her heart race, though her composure didn’t falter. With a practiced ease, she slipped the envelope—and its contents—into her pocket, her movements fluid and confident.

“Well, this was definitely the most fun I’ve ever had earning my paycheck,” she quipped to the camera, her voice steady even as her pulse raced.

The crew chuckled at her lighthearted remark, none the wiser to the true weight of her words. She turned back to the camera for her final moment, flashing a grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. “Looks like I’ve learned more than just safety procedures on this flight,” she said with a laugh, her delivery flawless, leaving the audience to wonder what secrets lay behind her words.

As the crew called a wrap, Haewon turned, stepping gracefully down the aisle and off the plane. Her pace was poised, her smile intact, but inside, her mind was a whirlwind. Every subtle movement reminded her of your hands, your breath, and the fire that had burned between you in the cramped lavatory.

Each step was a vivid reminder, the absence of her panties adding to the thrill as the sensation of your essence still inside her teased her with every bow and motion. She could feel it shift subtly, a lingering heat that made her cheeks burn and her chest tighten with the memory of your closeness.

As she descended the jet bridge, she slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers brushing against the damp fabric tucked alongside the envelope. Her fingertips grazed the sticky note, the faint smudges of her arousal making it more intimate than you likely intended. A rush of heat coursed through her at the tangible proof of your connection. She withdrew her hand, carefully adjusting her uniform as she glanced around to ensure no one was watching.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted you off-camera, leaning casually against the cabin doorway. Your calm demeanor belied the glint of mischief in your gaze. When her eyes met yours, you gave her a subtle wink—a fleeting gesture that sent her heart racing all over again.

Once she was alone in a quiet corner of the terminal, Haewon exhaled deeply, her thoughts still spinning from everything that had happened. She glanced around to ensure she had privacy before stepping into a staff lounge to change out of her uniform.

Peeling off the polished exterior of her flight attendant persona, she let the neatly pressed pieces fall away, leaving her bare under the soft light of the room. Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye, her cheeks still flushed, her hair slightly tousled. As she stared at herself, a glimmer of boldness sparked in her mind, her heart pounding at the thought that took hold.

Her fingers brushed over the scarf that still hung around her neck, the same one you had adjusted for her earlier. Loosening it slightly, she let the ends drape down over her chest, framing her bare skin in a way that felt both daring and intimate. The soft fabric teased the curves of her breasts and the line of her hips. The undone scarf added an air of playful confidence, the perfect balance of teasing and boldness.

Reaching for her phone, she pulled out the sticky note with your number, her lips curving into a small smile. Entering the digits carefully, she paused for a moment, considering what to name the contact. After a brief flicker of thought, she added: ✈️🥵.

Lifting her phone, she angled herself in the mirror, capturing every detail. The undone scarf hung loosely on both sides of her neck, framing the faint marks you’d left on her delicate skin. Her bare shoulders, the curve of her waist, and the contours of her breasts and lower section were bathed in the soft light of the room. Her expression tied it all together—a sultry, mischievous smile, her gaze filled with an undeniable spark of boldness.

Her heart raced as she typed out a message.

See you soon

She hit send and let the thrill of what she’d done wash over her. With a deep breath, she reached for a soft hoodie from her bag. Pulling it over her head, she felt the fabric settle against her skin. Tugging the hood up, she let it fall around her face, a subtle shield for the marks on her neck.

Satisfied that her secret was safely hidden, she took one last look in the mirror. Her reflection, now casual and relaxed, masked the fire still smoldering beneath the surface.

As she stepped out of the lounge, her strides were steady, every step carrying a sense of empowerment. When she exited into the warm afternoon air, she smiled to herself. The message had been sent, the connection made. Whatever came next, she was ready.

[notyourjaem]

5% tint ☆ c. yeonjun

☆ PAIRING: sugardaddy!yeonjun x collegestudent!reader (f)

☆ GENRE: smut (18+ readers only! dont make me block you)

☆ SUMMARY: you didn't think that doing well on an exam would mean that you would be fucked in the front seat of a porsche; good thing your sugar daddy has 5% tint.

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2K

☆ WARNINGS: gendered terms are used (girl), semi public sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, lots of praise from yeonjun, yeonjun drives a porsche (I think its a valid warning), yeonjun is wearing rings, making out, creampie kink perhaps?, dirty talk, obviously car sex!! lmk if i forgot anything its almost 1am and im an old lady.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: so heres part of the concept that I literally could not stop yapping about if I tried. combining my interests here: a hot man taking care of me and a porsche of my dreams. I am actually considering making this a series, with a backstory and everythingg so lmk your thots :)

a big thank you to @silvergyus @nightlyawnzz @hearts4huening for being my beta readers for this, and I may use your services in the future.

CLICK HERE TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!

walking to the front of your lecture hall, you collected the results from your latest exam. After finding your name in the pile of papers, you could barely contain your excitement when you saw the boldly printed 100% on the front.

Yeonjun would be so happy.

You quickly walked back to collect your things, before pulling out your phone to text him since he was picking you up from class.

you: going to be walking out in a few. I have good results!!

yeonjun: ahh my smart girl. I'm waiting for you out front.

Soon after you walked out through the double doors of the building that you were in, spotting Yeonjun’s gray Porsche parked up front.

Yeonjun had a pretty dark window tint, so you couldn’t see inside that well. You opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat; Yeonjun beaming.

“There’s my girl.” He had the biggest smile on his face. “Look at you, dressed all cute.” He was referencing your plaid skirt and big crewneck sweatshirt that was actually his.

“Did you just come from the office or something?” You asked him, leaning in to kiss him. “You look so nice.” You smoothed your hand over his button down dress shirt, making him smirk.

“Now let me see this test, huh?”

“Okay.” You quickly dug the scantron out of your folder that you had. Handing it over to Yeonjun, leaning over his center console as he examined it.

He was smirking.

“Yeah, one hundred percent.” You spoke with a huge smile on your face.

“Ah, see I knew you’d do well.” Yeonjun put his hand onto your jaw to kiss you.

You hummed against his mouth, pulling him closer by his shirt. “I missed you last night, daddy.” You kissed him again.

Yeonjun smirked against your lips before pulling away slightly. “Yeah? You know I want you to focus on your school too.”

“I know, but sometimes it’s easier to study when I’m sitting on your lap. You know?” You reached down to feel Yeonjun’s cock, which to your surprise was half erect.

“With my cock inside of you? Princess, you know you can’t focus.”

You remembered the time you swore that you would sit still and study on Yeonjun’s lap while he worked. You didn’t last five minutes before you were fucking yourself on his cock.

You pouted as Yeonjun moved to kiss you towards your neck. “But I’m such a good girl for you, Daddy.”

Yeonjun practically choked back a moan; if his cock wasn’t hard before, it definitely was now. “And I always reward you, don’t I?”

He quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, then went to unbuckle his belt to lower his pants. You let out an audible noise when he finally lowered his underwear, leaky, pretty cock out on full display.

“Go ahead and sit on it, pretty girl.” Yeonjun spoke, shuddering slightly when he swiped the tip with his thumb.

You felt a sudden tinge of shyness when you took off your shoes. Yeonjun could practically read your mind.

“The tints are too dark; no one can see you.”

“Okay, help me.” You answered, slightly laughing at the fact that you were going to climb over the console of a car that cost as much as your parents' house.

“I got you.” Yeonjun held onto you. Before you sat down on him, he pulled the fabric of your underwear out of the way.

“Oh my- fuck, you’re so wet.” Yeonjun gasped. “I’ll slip right fucking in.”

You lowered yourself onto him, and it was painfully slow; making you feel every inch of his cock.

Yeonjun was seconds away from ruining his leather with his fingernails with the way that he was gripping onto the passenger seat.

“Daddy…your cock. Fuck.” You sighed, dropping your head into his neck; taking a breath of his sweet cologne. He was fully inside of you, nuzzled up into that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Yeah, baby I know.” His hands were roaming your thighs and ass. Your underwear was cutting into you, but you couldn’t care less.

You slowly started to grind onto him, trying to find a rhythm in the limited space that you had. Yeonjun looked ahead, subtly watching if anyone walked by his car.

“You look so pretty, you know.” He spoke into your ear. “My dick inside of you in the front seat of my Porsche.” He suddenly gripped onto your hips, fucking you onto his cock.

“You’re my good girl, you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer, just let out a whimper of a moan.

“Repeat it back to me, baby.” His grip was so tight you thought his rings were going to make marks in your skin.

“I’m your…good girl.” You nearly choked on your words. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Yeonjun could already tell by the way that you were clenching around him, and he probably wasn’t going to last much longer himself.

Yeonjun turned your face to look at him in one quick movement. “Yeah? I’m so fucking deep in you aren’t I?” His voice was low; you knew what he was doing.

The sounds of your cunt were obscene; Yeonjun loved every second of it. He studied your face as he angled your hips differently, cockhead hitting so deep that your jaw fell slack.

You’ve never looked so pretty to him. Honors student studying biology. Probably going to end up being a doctor. He knew you’d be decorated in cords at your graduation. But now, he was hitting so deep you couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Letting out a rather loud whine when your orgasm finally hit you, Yeonjun kissed you, shushing you. After all, his car only had a tint; not soundproofing.

“Cum in me. Please, daddy.” You were nearly delirious, whimpering expletives. Yeonjun knew you were actually being serious, because you always begged him to. “That’s my reward, right?”

And how could he say no? Not when you were whining, begging as you pulled on his necklace to kiss him.

“You can take it all?” He asked. Stupid question. You always could, even if he had to fuck it back into you.

You eagerly nodded, lips jutting out to a pout before you kissed him again.

“God you drive me fucking insane.” Yeonjun’s last words before letting go of his orgasm that he was trying to hang onto. “You feel so fucking good.”

The fact that he was probably making a mess out of his seat was sent to the back of his mind. He’d deal with that later, because the moan that you let out made it all worth it.

“Fuck.” He was panting. “You have to be quiet.” Grinding his hips with yours; his cock was still inside of you making you slightly wince at how messy everything felt.

“Shit.” You muttered, looking down at where the two of your bodies connected.

“Yeah, I made a fuckin mess.” Yeonjun jokes, his hands roaming your thighs. “We should probably go back to my place….” His voice trailed off like it was a question.

“Hmm?” You were confused. “I thought you texted me earlier that you wanted to go to the Prada store, no?”

“Yes…” Yeonjun bit down on his bottom lip, smirking. “But I don’t think I'm finished with you yet.”

☆ TAGS: @mhasimp666 @yunsbby @sikkkko

(strike through indicates I am unable to tag, please make sure your tagging feature is turned on!)

[a-b-riddle]

Part 8

You had planned to spend Sunday morning nursing a hangover with Mere and Tabitha, but after last night’s events you had decided to catch up on organizing the shop while putting your phone on do not disturb.

You had turned your location services off in hopes that for a few hours the world would just leave you the fuck alone.

A few hours was all you were given before a tapping came on the front door of your shop around noon. Peering through the glass window, you spotted him.

He was holding a huge brown paper bag looking at little worse for wear since the last time he showed up. You debated on ignoring him. He had missed the early morning shower otherwise you really would have left him outside.

Bastard.

"John-" When you opened the door, he entered immediately. No doubt guessing you planned to slam the door immediately after telling him to fuck off.

He would have been right.

"Please," you say flatly before closing the door. "Do come in." After last night, after this week, the last thing you wanted to do was see anybody. Him, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, fucking Meredith or Tabitha. Why was it so hard for a person who had very few people in her life, all of which were on the skirts with her, to leave her alone for a single day?

"Well?" You asked when he said nothing. He cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for a long, drawn out speech.

Instead he handed you the bag, the smell hitting you. Warm and welcoming. Price was the only one out of the four who could cook a damn good meal, which made him extra picky when it came to eating out. “Wanted to check in.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to do with them now. “Simon said you had a rough night.”

You scoffed at the understatement. "Yeah," you hated this. You didn't want to tell John about your shitty night with your even shittier friends. "It wasn't the best night out."

"So you know that bloke who got handsy or was he just some random prick?" Your mouth fell open in shock. You didn't expect Simon to be such a fucking gossip. And how fuckin' dare John for thinking he had any right to know who was grabbing your ass and your involvement to that person.

No. Fuck that.

"We're not doing this," you said putting the bag on an empty display table. Fuck. You need to go ahead and unbox that shipment in the back.

"What?" He asked, oblivious as to what he said that was wrong. You push heel of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the headache that was threatening to form. "Some prick took a feel of ya' and I want to see if-"

"If what?" You cut in. "If I need some comfort at being utterly fucking humiliated at Simon going all caveman in front of everyone and dragging me outside like a child? Or do you want to finish want Simon start with almost killing him!"

"From what I heard, he didn't kill him," John's audacity to correct you as if Simon's restraint was remarkable baffled you. "There's something to be said about that."

"He held him by the neck in the air like a ragdoll. He choked him out in the middle of the pub."

"But," he held up a finger. "he didn't break his neck. He knew you'd be upset."

"You're not seriously defending him right now." You could feel your blood pressure rising. Your lid ready to blow like a fucking kettle.

"From what Simon said it didn't look like the attraction was mutual." That gave you pause. Simon told John it didn't look... mutual. Could Simon tell you were uncomfortable? Did he hear everything Percy said?

Where the fuck did Simon come from anyway?

why the fuck was he at the pub in the first place???

Your mouth hung open for several beats. Any longer and a bug could fly in. But fuck if it didn't feel like cold water had been dumped on you. Why and how did Simon think it wasn't mutual? Why did he care??? Why was he acting like he didn't?

"He-" You began, trying to think of what to ask only to simply screech out "What?" John held his hands up in surrender. Your kettle whistled. You were pissed. More pissed than John had ever seen you and it was still a miracle you hadn't hurled the take out at his head.

"All I'm saying is if he grabbed you without an invitation and Simon saw, the prick is lucky to be alive, much less still walking around with hands."

"Si-" you started. "He-" You clinched your fists so tightly your nails painfully cut into the palm of your hand. "UGH!" You stomped your foot. It was childish, but you didn't care. "I don't need him rescuing me goddamit! I don't need any of you pissing on my legs like a fucking dog and-" you didn't stop. You weren't sure how long you carried on verbally lashing John nor did you give a single flying fuck.

Fuck him. Fuck Simon. Fuck all of them. They didn't get to stalk you and relay information like gossiping fucking school girls. They didn't get to break your heart and believe that you would let them piece it back together. They didn't get to neglect you only to realize you knew your worth. Only giving a shit until you walked away.

You went on and on until your throat ached. You weren't sure what thoughts had left your lips. You weren't entirely sure all what you said. All you knew is that you didn't feel any better. The look on Price's fallen face didn't give you any relief. You took it out on him and you were still hurting.

"Why?" Your voice was hoarse and pleading. "Why won't you guys just fucking leave? You were barely staying in it when we were together? Why now?"

He took a tentative step forwarding. His hands started to reach out to touch your arms before falling back down at his side. He knew he had lost the right to touch you. To comfort you.

"I miss you, Dove." He confessed it as if it would somehow make it all better. "We miss you." You try not to let it phase you, but fuck you were made of flesh, not stone. No matter how angry furious disgusted absolutely devastated you were with everything that happened, with what they did and didn't do, you still, or at least had, loved them. That love didn't vanish over the span of a week. Lord know your broken heart hadn't. "We'll do better."

"It's not that simple." You shook your head, your palms covering your eyes as they began to prickle. You hoped the motion would come across as tired frustration, but John knew. It was your tell. You were close to crying. You always rubbed your face when you were upset.

"It is." He said, finally taking the chance to touch you. Even if it was just to hold your hands in his calloused ones. "We mucked things up, let us fix it. Give us at least the change to be better."

"How?" You asked. "Stop fucking yelling at me for a couple of months until something makes you blow your fucking lid and I'm left feeling like a little kid who's in trouble?" You were surprised not to see him flinch away, but the soft look in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again. "Or Kyle actually showing up for dates? Johnny not treating me like a fuck buddy?"

"We haven't been good to you." He admits and you still don't feel better. Leaving them hasn't made you feel any better. Only angrier. Yelling at him didn't. Fucking Johnny and breaking his heart didn't. Maybe Mer had a point. Just not with Percy. "We all wanted you and slacked off in doing right by ya."

"So what?" You press. "You want to resume where we left off? I just take you all back and work through the fact of how shitty you all were and hope that you make it up to me?

"No," he shook his head. "Not like that."

"Then what?" You asked.

"I'm fighting for me and you. No one else." You didn't know what to say. The four of them had always been a part of the deal. All or nothing. I mean, the fact that you even entertained the idea of being with all of them was the reasoning that if one of them had went down on the field, three more were there to take care of you.

"If the others can get their own shit together great." He shrugged his shoulders. "If I can't and they can, that's fine too." He stared in your eyes and for a moment, you thought about the first time John apologized for getting angry. Not at you, just in front of you. How he had gotten on his knees and told you the last thing he wanted was for you to be afraid of him. To look at him the same way recruits looked at him. "But I think where we failed was all of us was expecting another one to pick up the slack."

That much was true. Where others failed, others thrived. Simon always stayed after sex, Johnny never raised his voice, John was insistent on going on dates, and Gaz was emotionally available... when he was around at least.

"I know I wasn't the man I needed to be. I wasn't the man you deserved. I took things out on you that weren't your fault. I spoke to you in a way that if any other man did, I would knock him right the fuck out." He shook his head before giving your hands a squeeze. "I'll do what I need to do to set things right between you and me. I'll put in the work to do whatever it takes to have you trust me again."

"It wasn't about not trusting you." You counter

"But it is now." He said. "You don't trust me to respect you; to show kindness, patience. And I know I have my own shit to sort out before even thinking about us being like we were. When things were good, I mean."

You don't know what to say, but you can't say he's right. You don't trust him. Not with your heart. Not anymore.

Moments of silence pass before John lets go of your hands and takes a quick survey of the boxes around you. Your background music of Van Morrison still playing softly from the speaker near your computer.

"You seem busy, so I'll let you get to it." He takes in a deep breath. You're expecting another spiel about how he promises to work on it. Just to give him a chance. You're actually worried you'll consider it. "I picked up your usual. Figured things haven't changed that much since we last went to our spot down by the river."

"Haven't been there in a minute."

"You wouldn't." He said. "Closed the place and moved shop. It's over by the park."

"The one with the asshole geese or the one where Johnny and I were flashed by that guy strung out?" That makes him laugh. You can't remember the last time John laughed. The way his eyes crinkled and his smile shifted his whole face into something entirely joyous.

You missed it.

"Asshole geese." He answered before turning and heading to the door. You didn't speak until the chime of the bell rang.

"What if the others don't?" You ask before he had the chance to close the door. "Get their shit together, I mean."

He turned, giving you that signature closed smile that makes him look like a quokka. You told him that once and he had to googling before arguing that he didn't look like the world's happiest rodent. "That's on them. I have my own work to do." His smile dropping into something softer. Something pleading and pitiful. "But, we still want this. We all still want this. Want you."

You shook your head. The threat of tears returning as you realized how wrong he was. Maybe he did. But not all of them. "Simon doesn't." you huffed, arms crossing over your chest. "He's made that much clear."

"That I don't believe." He shook his head. "Not for a minute."

"Believe it." You sucked in air through your nose as if trying to clear it. Price knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn't see you cry. He knew you wouldn't want him to even if he wanted to stay and make up for all the times he was the reasons behind your tears.

"I didn't do what I needed to and I'll do whatever it takes to get you back." He promises. "But if it came down to it... if you want to settle down and just chose one of us to have you, to keep you," he took in a deep breath. The next words like a knife twisting in his chest. "I wouldn't truly love you if I didn't tell you that Simon is the only one of us who deserves you."

"Why?" You knew in that moment Simon hadn't told John about that night. About his cruel words and your realization that he was right. There was never a true happily ever after with them.

"Because he's the only one willing to hide in the shadows and let you live your life," his smile now gone completely. "I'm sorry that I'm too selfish to do that."

[femmeroll]

hiii, could you write something about sevika corrupting a sweet church girl?

your blog is really cute btw <3

omg omg omg !!! i’ve been dying to write something like this, thank you for the request!!

sevika x fem reader

cw: religion, corruption, implied age gap, fingering, semi-public.

you’re a good girl. made good grades in school, good daughter, good sister, kind person. you never miss a sunday service. and if you must, you’ll be at the church for service on monday afternoon. you spend your life being pure, avoiding sin wherever it may rear its devilish head.

no pride or greed or lust. just simple, sweet purity.

that is, until you meet that lady.

every day on your walk home from mass you see her. maybe mid forties, dark hair, and easily six feet tall. she stands outside the deli every morning at 11:45 on the dot for her smoke break.

and every sunday morning she says hello, or good morning, or asks how ‘sunday school’ is going. it’s strange. you always give her a smile, say hello back, but she seems so condescending. like every word she says to you is secretly making fun of you.

you don’t really know her either, which is weird. it’s a small town, everyone knows each other. not…her thought. she’s just an impossibly rude person you see on sundays that causes you to remember the jesus was always kind to strangers.

it’s a cold january morning, sidewalks slick with ice. like clockwork, that woman is standing outside the deli with her cigar.

“careful, virgin mary. don’t want you slippin’ out here.”

okay, rude.

“i’m okay, no need to worry,” you respond, stopping in your tracks in front of her. the gaze she holds on you is almost uncomfortable. she’s staring down at you like she’ll burst out laughing at any moment. like the mere idea of you is just hilarious to her.

“sevika, by the way. my name.”

oh. sevika. okay.

“y/n. it’s nice to properly meet you. i’ve never seen you around outside of…this.”

“i’m not very social” she responds.

you smile. you certainly know the best way for people to find community in town.

“well, there’s a service on mon-”

she cuts you off with a scoff. “not interested. not the place for me.”

“why not?”

sevika leans closer, letting her lips fall near your ears.

“i like smoking, drinking, cursing, fucking. it’s not the place for me, princess.”

you clutch the cross around your neck with a gasp. this is wrong on so many levels. sinful, disgusting, unnatural…and yet you feel your face getting impossibly redder.

sevika stomps out her cigarette. “see you next sunday, princess.”

whether you like it or not, sevika evokes quite a bit of lust in you. her smirk, her piercing grey eyes, her muscles that stretch the fabric of her impossibly tight tshirt…you can’t help it. the forbidden fruit is strong. you suppose it’s all a part of the lord’s plan. send you a taste of homosexual temptation and watch you be a true follower.

you aren’t though.

you entertain her flirting, all her lustful stares, and your church dresses start to come above the knee just to give her something to look at. you don’t know why you like this so much. it’s gross. it’s wrong. it’s against god’s wishes.

but jesus christ, one look from sevika and that all goes out the window. every good christian moral, everything you’ve known to be true disappears the second sevika locks eyes with you.

after a monday evening service, you take your weekly stroll home. it’s dinner time, and sevika is working.

you open the door to the deli, seeing sevika behind the counter. you watch silently as she meticulously rearranges the meats on display.

“i could use some dinner, sevika” you say and she perks up, brief shock replaced with her signature smirk.

“princess. c’mon back, i’ll make you whatever sandwich you want.”

and she does. you’re sitting on a wooden stool in the back of the deli, making small talk. sevika’s presence feels strangely right, like these little moments were made to happen. maybe this was the lord’s plan after all.

sevika steps closer, towering over you.

“you have sauce on your lips. messy eater, huh princess?”

she takes her calloused thumb and wipes the sauce away, eyes never leaving yours. the air feels thicker and your face feels hotter. and without skipping a beat, your lips on on sevika’s.

she stammers a bit in shock, then immediately gaining back control. she wraps her hand around the back of your neck to pull you in deeper. you can feel her smirking against you, prying your lips apart and exploring the inside of your mouth with her tongue.

her lips feel like the missing piece of a puzzle, perfectly slotting against yours in a dance of passion and affection. she’s calculated with the way she kisses, making sure you feel every bit of her tongue gliding against your mouth.

“sevika-” you pant, pulling away. “we shouldn’t, i-it’s not right.”

“shush, princess,” she growls, “gods not watching right now.”

and maybe he’s not. so fuck it. you nod and let sevika pull your blouse off, pushing her head into your chest. she litters your chest in bites, reveling in the sweet moans you let out.

her hands make their way under your skirt, silently asking for permission to pull your slick panties down.

all you can do is nod, desperate and utterly dumb for her touch.

“so soft, princess…” she moans, “so wet. is that all for me?”

another nod.

“you gonna be a good girl?”

another nod.

sevika pulls hand away with an evil grin. “words. or you aren’t getting shit from me.”

“yes, it’s all for you. yes, i’ll be good. please hurry before i remember that i’m a woman of god and stop,” you groan.

her ring finger circles your swollen clit, spreading your folds and rubbing you down to your needy hole. one of her thick fingers is enough to stretch you out, walls tightening around her as she slowly moves in and out of your cunt.

“tight fuckin’ pussy…so pure and innocent, huh? just a good little church girl who likes other women fucking her greedy cunt?”

she chuckles darkly at herself, and at the way you get even tighter at her mean words. so humiliating, so blasphemous, so unholy. and yet every deep, deliberate thrust has you closer and closer to cumming.

“sevika,” you whimper, “i can’t hold it, please.”

“is that right?” she teases.

“you can cum, baby. but make sure to repent after.”

[bestplanogramming]

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[stillmonsterz]

be with her tonight

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: every week, you go to the same coffee shop for their great service and wonderful drinks. but for some reason, the barista has always rubbed you the wrong way. he seems harmless, though.

contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, somnophilia, drug mentions, lying, swearing, johnny is there, mark is there, twitch mention

word count: 5.0k (unproofread)

---

Heeseung’s eyes were shifty, his hands trembling over the paper cups. He plucked one off, a grande, and started to prepare the same familiar order. Despite his quivering hands, Heeseung went through the motions of making the drink with the utmost of effort. A small splash of hot coffee dribbled from the spout onto his hand; he scarcely noticed the pain. 

He set the cup down on the counter and surveyed the small cafe where he worked. Patrons were settled into small wooden tables, the windows were bright, and succulents lined the windowsills. Heeseung tugged at the collar of his black button-up and adjusted his apron. His coworker, Sunghoon, noticed him and smirked. 

“Is she coming again today?” Sunghoon asked while he restocked the croissants in the pastry display.

It took a few seconds for Heeseung to process that Sunghoon was talking to him. “Huh?”

“That girl, what’s-her-name…” Sunghoon conspicuously slipped a small brownie bar into the pocket of his apron.

“Oh,” Heeseung said softly. “I dunno…” Of course you were coming today. You came here every Wednesday and Friday at 2:00 pm, during your lunch break. Your favorite coworker was off those two days, so you ate alone and got yourself a coffee and a pastry. You were coming today. Heeseung had to see you again. 

When 2:00 arrived and you hadn’t walked through the doors with your usual vivacity, Heeseung got nervous. He begrudgingly served some other people whose faces he couldn’t have recalled if he had been paid to do so. 

2:15 and Heeseung’s hands shook even more. Sunghoon was already glancing at him strangely, so Heeseung busied himself by wiping down the counter. Why weren’t you here? He only got to see you twice a week, so he savored the time where he got to drink in your face, to inhale your scent that percolated so harmoniously with the ubiquitous scent of coffee. 

As the second hand slipped to 4, a cold chill spread all over his body and he felt as though someone had forced him to swallow a handful of nails. They sat in his stomach, tearing apart the delicate lining, puncturing holes in his organs, ripping him apart from the inside. It was Wednesday. You were normally here by now. What had happened? 

The drink he had made you in advance was getting cold. 

Had you switched coffeeshops? Had you forgotten about him? What if you hated him? What if you had caught onto him?

Heeseung swallowed hard; he dug his jagged nails into the palms of his hand. “Sunghoon…” he began quietly, “I think I’m going to step outs-,”

The door opened and you stepped inside, waving at Heeseung. The nails melted away and were replaced by spoonfuls of honey, soothing his throat, filling him with golden light. 

“Hi,” you said, pulling your purse out of your wallet. You glanced over at the forgotten drink resting on the counter. “Oh, was that mine?”

“I’ll make you another one,” Heeseung said, far too quickly. He unceremoniously dumped the drink into the sink and started bustling about in the kitchen. Once he was facing away from you, a grin split across his face, and he had to restrain himself from giggling. You hadn’t forgotten him! You had come back. While he pulled himself together, Sunghoon input the order into the machine before wandering away, presumably to take care of more customers. Whatever. 

Heeseung lifted his head up to face you again.”The same as usual?”

You nodded and grinned. “Same as usual. You know me so well.”

If only you knew, Heeseung thought. “You were late today- I mean, you came in later than you, uh, normally, arrive, at the uh, here. Why?” Heeseung wasn’t known for his eloquence on a normal day, but you rendered his vocal cords obsolete, his frontal cortex inoperable. 

“Oh, well, had a long day at the office,” you said, tapping your card on the reader. “Another useless meeting from HR.”

Heeseung wished he had something clever to say, something that could win your heart, make you love him. Instead, all he could offer was, “That sucks.” He bit his lip and got another grande cup so he could remake your drink. 

“It does suck,” you said with a wry smile. “How’s your day been?”

You were asking him how his day was, too? Heeseung nearly dropped the cup as he pumped syrup inside of it, and he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. “It’s been…good. Good. A little busy.”

“Well, busy is good,” you said. Then you cleared your throat. “Hey, I was going to come over on Saturday with a…friend of mine. What time do you think would be the best? You know, so it’s quiet?”

Heeseung carefully pressed the lid onto the cup, scrunching his nose as he thought. “Probably…I’d say 5 pm-ish? Most people don’t really want a coffee around that time.”

“Good to know,” you said, placing your wallet back into your purse. Heeseung admired how confident your motions were, and his eyes lingered on your hands. When his eyes flickered up to your face, he realized that you were looking at him. 

Desperate to seem like he wasn’t ogling you, he stammered out, “Y-your friend…does she work at the same, uh, place as you?”

“He actually works down at the insurance company, the one on Smithson?” you kept talking, but Heeseung couldn’t hear a word. His blood ran cold, and his vision went blurry. Him. He. You were going to have your date here? You must despise him. 

Heeseung thrust the cup in your direction. “Uh, enjoy,” he murmured, looking away from you.

“Thanks, Heeseung! You have yourself a good day,” you said brightly before leaving. 

Heeseung felt Sunghoon put a hand on his shoulder, heard him ask if Heeseung were okay. “I feel sick,” Heeseung whispered. “Could I step out for a bit?” Heeseung didn’t actually hear Sunghoon’s answer, but Heeseung was already leaving, stripping his apron and casting it aside someplace in the little break room. He tugged his worn leather jacket on and went outside. The sun stung his eyes so he lowered his gaze to the ground. Heeseung sat down on the concrete step leading into the back room and fished his lighter and cigarettes from his jacket pockets. 

He took a long drag as he tried to calm down, but it was difficult. Every time he thought about your date with some other guy, he started to feel strange. Beyond his initial panic and feelings of abandonment, there was something else nipping at him. A feeling he couldn’t quite place, but it was harsh and red and ragged. 

Heeseung wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t normal. He knew that his fascination with his pretty customer was irrational, and deep within his heart, he knew that you didn’t belong to him. Yet at the same time, Heeseung knew that you should belong to him. Already, he could read your emotions so well, and that was just after quick interactions twice a week for 3 and a half months. Heeseung would do anything for you, just so he could bask in your sweet glow. 

Normally, the world was cold and boring. Everything was predictable and trite. Heeseung couldn’t remember a time in his life where there had been any novelty. Talking to people wasn’t fun to him at all; navigating the labyrinthine social rules that others seemed to understand effortlessly just made him feel confused and worn. All throughout elementary school and middle school, even into high school, Heeseung had been ignored and ridiculed. He couldn’t decide which was worse. Even at his menial barista job, people purposefully averted his gaze. 

Not you, though. You had given him a bright smile and had even dropped money into the little tip jar. Most importantly, you had awarded him his first compliment. Despite his current misery, Heeseung smiled at the memory. You had sipped the coffee he had made you, your eyes had lit up like a little kid’s, and you had said, “You make great coffee, Heeseung.” When Heeseung had protested shyly, you had continued. “No, no, this is really good. You have a knack for this, you know.”

Heeseung took a long drag off of his cigarette as he sulked. Tears pinpricked his eyes at the thought of you disappearing from his life. Of course, he figured he could always spy on you at work (he had spent hours trying to find your LinkedIn based off of your first name), or maybe break into your house and hide under your bed (he had followed you home from work a few times.) but it just wouldn’t be the same. What made him happy was that you chose to come see him. There were a lot of cafes near your workplace, some even closer than Heeseung’s, but you came to his. Even if it wasn’t for his personality, you liked the coffee that he made. You chose him, but now you were choosing some other guy. And if this date went well, then you might disappear from his life.

Salty tears streamed down his sallow cheeks, and Heeseung swiped them away with his free hand. That feeling simmered within him, festering within him like rot. Angry. That’s what he was. Angry, upset, mad. 

Heeseung couldn’t let you disappear. He couldn’t let you go. 

He stubbed the cigarette out on the step and started coming up with ideas.

Then Heeseung smiled. 

– 

You pursed your lips in the mirror as you applied your red-tinted lip gloss. You had your coffee shop date at 5, and you wanted to look nice. The way you saw it, it was a win-win: you got to get a free coffee and pastry out of a guy, and you could finally subtly let Heeseung down without having to acknowledge his feelings for you at all.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Heeseung felt something for you. Ever since you had complimented his coffee, his dull eyes had developed a shine whenever he saw you. He always made your coffees with the utmost of care, which was one of the reasons why you kept coming back instead of going to another place. And, of course, you’d be lying if you said that his attention didn’t flatter you in some small way. Heeseung wasn’t necessarily unattractive. If he did something about his lank hair, stopped fidgeting so much, and could string together a sentence without stammering, he’d be passable. Even cute. That wasn’t the problem.

It was the same thing you had told your friend and workmate just before she had proposed the date idea. “He’s just…creepy,” you had told her over a shared Cobb salad. “Something about his eyes.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she had said, snapping her fingers. “Like they’re empty, right?”

“Exactly,” you had said, relieved that she understood. “Empty. It freaks me out.”

Your friend took a bite of salad and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “So stop getting coffee from there.”

“No can do,” you had replied. “Gotta take you there sometime. The coffee is amazing.”

“Okay, well, just tell him to back off.”

You frowned. “Technically, he’s never actually said he liked me or done anything or anything, so…”

“Subtly hint that you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m a bad hinter.”

Your friend groaned. “You suck, you know that?”

The two of you had hemmed and hawed over the dilemma before she had offered up a solution: Find a guy from the office, ask him out on a coffee date at that exact place, and make it seem like you were enjoying the date.

So now you were in your bathroom, tucking the front of your sweater into your skirt. As you were posing one last time, you got a text from your date, Mark. He had texted you a succinct “yooooo i’m pulling up 😬”, so you locked up your apartment and walked out. 

When you got to the coffee shop, you were initially worried about Heeseung’s reaction. He looked like a sad little deer when he got upset. You shook your head slightly to get those aberrant thoughts out. You were here to get him off your back, anyways. So that the creepy barista wouldn’t get any ideas and you could keep enjoying some of the best coffee in this part of downtown.

You needn’t have worried, though. Heeseung was kindly towards you and your date. He had even taken your coats at the door and hung them up on the coat rack at the front. He had plied you with pastries, and even stuttered out a, “T-take care of her, she’s a good one” to Mark. When you glanced at the counter, you could see Sunghoon smiling at Heeseung as he brought out refills of coffee and dusted extra powdered sugar onto delicate little desserts. 

Mark looked at you with glee as he dug into his second croiffle. “Nah, this place is dope,” he said, crumbs surrounding his lips. “I see why you come here every week.” You hadn’t bothered telling Mark about Heeseung. It seemed a bit cruel to use a guy  to get rid of another unsavory guy.

You reached out and rubbed some of the crumbs from his mouth, hoping that Heeseung would see you. “Yeah, it’s great. Maybe…” you lowered your voice and leaned in, “this could be our spot, you know?”

Mark gently reached out and took your hand. “Why were you wiping my nose, weirdo? Did I get crumbs up there?”

“Huh? I was wiping your mouth…” you reached out with your other hand to touch his mouth, but your arm started to feel a bit heavy. 

“You okay?” Mark frowned as his eyes scanned your face. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Drink a little more coffee,” he suggested. “It’ll make you alert and shit.”

As you sipped your drink again, you realized that the drowsiness wasn’t going away. Even though you had downed a whole grande latte, you felt like you were about to

–

You slumped over the table and Heeseung had to suppress his smile. This part had to be perfect. He called your name and strode over to the table. Mark was just sitting in his chair, frozen. “What happened?” Heeseung asked, trying to make himself sound worried. His naturally anxious tone actually helped him.

“N-nothing, she just…fell over,” Mark said, staring at you. “I dunno, she must have had a long work week. Or she’s anemic, women are always anemic.”

Heeseung made a show of checking your pulse on your wrist and on your neck. Getting to touch your velvety skin, and not just a quick brush of hands when he handed you a coffee cup, was exquisite. He could already feel himself getting hard, so he had to move fast. 

“I’ll take her to my place,” Heeseung said, already lifting you out of the chair. Mark quickly stood up, blocking Heeseung’s path. Heeseung bit back a groan. 

“Nah, shouldn’t I, you know, take her home? I know her from work,” Mark said, crossing his arms. He looked from Heeseung to you to Heeseung to you as though he were following a ping-pong match. 

Heeseung sighed and attempted to try using that wheedling, condescending tone some male customers had used on him sometimes. “No offense, but when normally, a pretty girl like this passes out on a date, it’s not because of a-anemia.” 

Mark stepped back, holding his hand to his heart. “Ay man, are you tryna say that I roofied her? I’m not like that!”

“Yeah, well…” Heeseung pushed past Mark, carrying you in his arms. “I don’t know you, do I?” Then he paused and turned around. “Tell you what. You give me your number, and after she gets a little more rest, I’ll call you so you can pick her up, okay?”

Mark nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good, thanks.” He told Heeseung his number, and Heeseung carefully repeated the numbers in his head. “I think I’mma head home, thanks for the…hospitality.” Without his jacket, Mark stepped into the cold and ran to his car. 

As Heeseung was leaving, he called out to Sunghoon: “Cover me until I get her some medical help, okay?” Sunghoon gave him a curt nod, and Heeseung left the coffee shop. 

With some difficulty, he managed to get you buckled up in the front seat of his old clunker. Now that he was alone and no one could see him, Heeseung could finally smile. The way you were sitting here, all dolled up, it almost seemed like you and him were on a date. You were going on a drive together after a date at the coffee shop, and you would be going home with him. Heeseung carefully adjusted the car seat so that you were reclining, so it would look like you were just napping. 

“Carbs will do that,” Heeseung said sympathetically, rubbing your hand. “Make you tired. You should know better, baby. You come here all the time.” He stroked your warm, soft hand, and he ran his fingers along your sweet little cheeks. The hand that caressed your face slowly fell to your chin, then your neck. “You look so pretty. You always look pretty, of course, but you looked really pretty today. All for me.”

His hand slid all the way to your chest. Heeseung hesitated; he was risking everything, and he didn’t have much time to execute the rest of his plan. Just one kiss, he told himself, just one. Heeseung leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, ever so gently. It made him shudder, the sweet taste of chocolate lingering on your lips. He wanted to keep going, but he would have to wait. 

As Heeseung drove to his apartment, one hand rubbing your thigh, he congratulated himself on his ingenuity. It hadn’t been easy to coordinate this plan. 

–

First, he had had to figure out who you were cheating on him with. That wasn’t hard; you had foolishly Tweeted: “sooo excited for Saturday!” and “onyour_mark” had replied with a devil emoji. A cursory flick through his Twitter account offered Heeseung an informative, if not somewhat nauseating, look into Mark’s life. Heeseung found out that he worked the same hours as you, but he was on a separate floor. He lived with a Twitch streamer, Johnny “suhcondem” Suh, who streamed on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. As he scrolled through Johnny’s Twitter account, Heeeung found that Johnny had once complained about his fans sending them dildos, pizzas, and other “weird ass shit.” Perfect. 

After that, Heeseung had searched for Mark’s Instagram. Thankfully, Mark had posted a picture of his outfits in front of an open window. Utilizing a combination of Mark’s own descriptions of his neighborhood and Google Earth, Heeseung had found Mark and Johnny’s apartment complex within three hours of tireless searching. He could extrapolate the floor from the basic positioning of the tree, and after scouring Mark and Johnny’s social media accounts for more descriptions of their living space, he had narrowed their apartment to a potential unit. 

Now came the more difficult part. Using Tor browser, Heeseung was able to access a site where he could purchase some Rohypnol. It cost a pretty penny, but Heeseung wasn’t about to experiment with other roofies and potentially ruin his chances of having you. He ordered it on Wednesday, and on Friday he had two packages sitting in front of his door, one small and unmarked, the other a lettermail package. Heeseung used gloves to pick up the white package and take out the white box. He couldn’t have his fingerprints on it, after all. The other package held precious cargo: a used Papa John’s uniform with a pizza carrier.

Next, he had to plant evidence in Mark’s room. On Friday, he begged Sunghoon to cover his shift, citing violent diarrhea. Heeseung knew that Mark would be working, but Johnny would be streaming all day. Heeseung changed into the Papa John’s uniform, threw his jacket over it, ordered a meat lover’s pizza from Papa John’s, and drove a few blocks away from Mark’s apartment complex. No way was he going to risk people seeing his car. 

Heeseung placed the pizza inside of the carrier and headed to the apartment. He was nervous about getting inside, but thankfully an older couple let him inside. With a tremulous hand, Heeseung pressed the button for Mark’s floor. If he screwed this up, then Mark would get to have you. The thought alone spurred Heeseung on to keep going. 

He walked to Mark’s door and rang the doorbell. After a full, heart-wrenching minute, Johnny opened up and gave Heeseung a slow once-over. Johnny was wearing a baggy hoodie that said “I ATTENDED SUH CON AND I GOT THE LONG JOHN” with sweatpants. 

“Uh… meat lover’s pizza for Johnny?” Heeseung said tentatively. 

Johnny groaned. “Dumb ass chat gotta stop buying me pizzas,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Heeseung asked, shifting his weight between his feet. 

Johnny shook his head and waved dismissively. “Sorry man. I uh, I stream on Twitch, so a lot of my fans like to send me shit. I didn’t order this.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said contritely. “Well, I can’t exactly keep it…” 

“Why don’t you eat it?” Johnny asked, leaning his arm on the doorframe. 

“I’m vegan,” Heeseung lied. 

Johnny chuckled. “I can tell. You skinny skinny.”

Heeseung laughed awkwardly. “Right, yeah.” He shifted again, and he could feel sweat pooling under his armpits.

“What, you gotta piss?” Johnny gestured at Heeseung. “You’re dancing like you gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah,” Heeseung said, trying not to appear too eager .”I drank too much, uh, soylent.”

Johnny stared at Heeseung like he was an idiot. “Whatever. You can use the bathroom. Use the one in my buddy’s room, actually. Don’t need chat to hear someone piss.”

As Johnny stepped aside to allow Heeseung to enter, Heeseung fought to keep himself in check. The apartment was as sparsely decorated as a Twitch streamer and male office worker’s living space could be. Which is to say that the only notable decorations were Johnny’s streaming awards that were strewn on the walls and Mark’s bible on the living room table. 

“You can just put the pizza down there,” Johnny said, pointing at the kitchen counter which was already littered with a variety of take-out boxes and greasy bags. “Down the hall and to the right for Mark’s room. Make it quick. Mark gets weird when people go in there.” Johnny retired into his own room, and from the clattering noises he made, Heeseung figured that he was going back to streaming. As Heeseung hurried into Mark’s room he heard Johnny say, “Chat, you’ve been very, very bad…” 

The first thing Heeseung did was take some rubber gloves from his pocket and tug them on. Then he scoured Mark’s room to try and find condoms. They weren’t in the bathroom, they weren’t in his nightstand, and they weren’t under his bed. Heeseung searched desperately for them, before he found them behind his pillow, along with some lube. Just how much fucking does this guy do?

Heeseung inspected the box and was pleased to find that him and Mark were actually the same size: Mark used Trojan larges. Then Heeseung frowned: him and Mark were the same size. Heeseung had always been proud of his size, but now it didn’t feel so special. No matter, Heeseung thought as he removed a condom from the pack, I’m the one who’ll fuck her. He slipped the condom into his pocket and made a note to purchase the same brand of lube. Heeseung went into the bathroom and pulled out the flattened Rohypnol box from a Ziploc bag he had kept in his pocket. He placed it inside of Mark’s trash can and covered it up with some tissues he found in there. As Heeseung searched, he found a tissue coated in Mark’s dried semen. Couldn’t hurt to have it. Heeseung put it in a spare Ziploc and kept it for later. It was nasty, disgusting work, but it would pay off. 

Finally, Heeseung did actually use the bathroom. All this stress made him piss a river. 

When he left the apartment, Johnny didn’t even notice. Heeseung had actually done it. 

– 

Now Heeseung gently carried you into his apartment. It was still early, so thankful there weren’t a lot of people milling around. 

He laid you onto his bed, and your head hit the headboard as he lowered you. “Sorry,” Heeseung said apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby.” Heeseung kissed your forehead. He could wash your forehead, but for the next part, he figured he should put on some gloves. Rummaging around in his nightstand, he found more latex gloves and tugged them on. 

Now that he finally had you, he didn’t actually know what to do. Should he take off your clothes first, or his? He decides to disrobe first, so he could take his time with you. Quickly, Heeseung tossed off his work clothes, throwing them into his dirty laundry pile. His room was about as bare as Mark and Johnny’s living room had been, but once you were his, he would decorate it however you wanted. 

Heeseung forced himself to take his time as he popped your skirt buttons, one after the other. It was the kind of skirt that opened from the front, so when he was done, he could part the skirt off of you, admiring your panties. 

“You wore this just for me?” Heeseung asked softly. God, he wished he could touch you, skin on skin, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He ran his finger along your clothed pussy, and he trembled from the white-hot flames he felt licking at his cock. Patience, he told himself. Patience. Your sweater came off next, and Heeseung folded it up into a neat square and set it to the side. 

Heeseung pulled the condom he had filched from Mark’s room onto his cock,wishing he could just go in raw. At least Mark used ribbed. Then, he got the lube from his nightstand and slicked his cock with it,making sure it wouldn’t be too hard to slide in.

 He couldn’t believe it. There you were, so pliant, so vulnerable, so his. Of course, now that he was hovering over you, he couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt he felt. As he tugged your panties down, he kept whispering apologies. “Sorry,” he said as his cockhead tapped your entrance. “I’m so sorry,” he said while marveling at the way his thick cock bulged your stomach. 

Heeseung moaned so loudly he thought for sure the neighbors would hear. But he didn’t care, even though he should. How could he care? He had never experienced anything like this. Your pussy was gripping him so tightly, its walls enveloping his cock so warmly, he couldn’t care about anything else. With some effort, he pulled out of you and drenched his cock with even more lube.

He plunged back inside of you and gripped your hips, admiring the way your tits jiggled as he fucked into you. As he took your pussy, it dawned on Heeseung that he wasn’t being very romantic about this. “Sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Heeseung pulled out of you and used his gloved hands to put you in a more sensual position. He would just have to wash the places where your bodies touched. He put you on your side and crawled behind you, so that he was spooning you. 

He groped at your tits as he slid inside of you again. This much was much better. Ever since you had told him that you were going on a date, Heeseung had been edging himself for hours so he could last longer, just for you. He did it all for you.

Heeseung started going faster, pounding your cunt harshly. A part of him was sad that you wouldn’t remember this. No, you would wake up scared, wondering why Mark had done this to you. You wouldn’t even know that Heeseung had given you the most passionate fucking of your life. His headboard smacked against the wall as he pushed himself into you from behind. Using his gloved hand, he turned his face towards his. Your face looked so peaceful, and seeing it only made him go faster. The bed creaked as Heeseung relentlessly thrusted in you. He could feel you getting looser and wetter, accommodating his dick. 

Heeseung felt himself bottom out, hitting the firm muscle of your cervix. He couldn’t stop now. Heeseung gripped your tits, loosening his grip when he remembered that he could leave handprints, and thrust up and down. He could have spent all day in your pussy, but he didn’t have much time left. 

His balls smacked into your thighs as he felt his orgasm approaching. It was unlike any other orgasm he had had; he had never felt so in-tune with his body, and the sensation burned. Heeseung grunted and pulled out of you before he came inside the condom.  Heeseung rolled off of the bed and laid on his carpet, panting. 

Soon, he would get up, wash himself off, then wash you off. Then, he would call Mark and say that you weren’t waking up. While Mark drove to his place to get you, he would use the cum he had extracted from Mark’s tissue, wet it with water, and smear it in your pussy. As soon as Mark had gotten you, Heeseung would dispose of the used condom and wash his sheets. After half an hour, he would call Sunghoon and say that you and Mark had forgotten your coats. 

Undoubtedly, Sunghoon would find the bottle of roofies that Heeseung had planted in Mark’s jacket. 

Heeseung sighed, completely content. After this, you wouldn’t trust men again, let alone Mark. Except, of course, for the man who had taken you home, tried to take care of you, and had called the police on Mark, the man who had assaulted you. 

Heeseung couldn’t wait for you to wake up.

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[kombuuuu]

hii i really enjoyed ur miles 42 fic, was wondering if u could write something about reader and miles meeting for the first time? who was interested first🤭?

For the Soul (and the Heart)

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, i’d say”. “Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

AHHH meet cute x simpy miles we LOVE

Miles getting comfy w reader and reader getting progressively more combative the more time they spend together bc they luvvvvvvv each other? perfection

please don’t read if you get uncomfy with suggestive content, nothing too bad but still suggestive!

The morning was still. An odd occurrence for a Saturday. The winter chill had settled the night prior and seeped into ever cracked windowsill.

Streets coating in a thin layer of snow and trees dusted with the same. And acknowledging this freezing weather, obviously you decided to go for a walk. Snow crunched under your feet as you followed street signs, the only thing telling you where you were going was which street looked prettier.

Eventually you stopped, hugging your scarf closer to your nose and looking for a stall or shop that caught your eye.

Eventually it did, a quaint cafe stationed between two clothing stores, relatively small and pretty empty. The outside was decorated with white Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers, flower beds filled with the pretty things. Contrasting to the deep Mahogany of the wooden shop. Which looking into the wide window, seemed relatively the same. Deep furniture with white accents and a soft yellow light dancing along shiny hardwood floors.

Swirling cursive words cut into the wooden headboard swinging from a chain outside the door. “Morales Coffee.”

There looked to be seven or eight people in there currently, for how inconspicuous it tried to look, the amount of patrons at such an odd time (10:42 AM, not morning but not afternoon either.), You’d assume that coffee has to be amazing.

The door bell chimed sweetly at your entry, Barista turning to greet you.

The sweet woman gleamed over at you for a moment, turning back to her current customer while he pulled out his wallet. You lined up, looking at the pastries lining the glass displays. The ones catching your eye a Raspberry Danish and a cute baby blue Lunch-Box cake.

The man had moved away, leaving it your turn to order. The woman smiled at you and for once, approaching someone in costumer service didn’t feel as scary as it should’ve.

“Hi, What can I get for you today?” The curly haired woman had a twang of an accent curving her words. And a motherly vibe about her.

“Hey,” You smiled back at her “,Could I get a regular Mocha—.” You paused to let her punch it in. “.—A raspberry Danish and your blue cake.”

You pointed vaguely towards where the blue cake would be to her side of the display. “Yes, of course! That’ll be $18.40, thank you.”

Whilst you pulled out your purse to pay and she began to retrieve the items. She spoke up again. “Someone’s birthday?”

You laughed, not expecting her to speak so suddenly.

“Oh, no!” A chuckle left your lungs “Just want some cake recently. Saw your shop and its cakes. Thought may as well get it while i’m here.”

She laughed along with you, snorting a little as she boxed the small cake in the cardboard lunchbox. “Seems reasonable.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed your danish and placed it on the counter, putting the cake in a bag and handing it to you.

“Thank you, again.”

“No worries, your mocha will be out shortly!” The bouncy lady turned around, going close to the back of the counter and opened a door you hadn’t realised was there, talking into it.

“Bebé, hay una chica linda ahí afuera que quiere un Mocha. Ve a hacerlo para ella. Y no la riegues.”

"Baby, there's a cute girl out there who wants a Mocha. Go do it for her. And don't mess it up."

Miles glanced up in confusion.

“¿Pero porqué me dices a mi?”

“Why me?”

“Pues es linda, y parece de tu edad.”

“She’s pretty, and around your age.”

“Ma, porfavor.”

“Ma, please.”

“Go.”

“Fine, fine.” He raised his hands in defeat and Rio kissed his cheek on the way out.

You found a seat with a cute view of the street outside and waited patiently for your coffee, people watching to pass time.

There was always a fear of crime in your neighbourhood. The lack of supposed ‘good guys’ coupled with the city being run down by anyone who wanted to escape trouble. Once news broke out of the first robbery in Brooklyn, where no one was caught. It was immediately put on the radar for any criminal looking to live somewhere safe.

The Prowler had been changing that. Little by little the Panther-esc.. Anti-Villain was scraping through the streets of Brooklyn and letting his blood stained claws drag over those in his way.

People feared him, the violence he brought with him.

You thought he was the closest thing to a hero you were getting, so who’s got room to complain?

If he’s not going to do the dirty work, who will?

The chatter of other people in the cafe had gotten slightly louder, four more people walking in while you sat.

“Miles, la chica linda de ahí.”

“Miles, That sweet girl over there.”

“Sí mamá, ya sé.”

“Yeah mama, I know.”

The smooth baritones accent of a boy around your age caught your attention. The way his letters curled giving you a rush of something down your spine. You looked up when you heard feet approaching, seeing probably the most ridiculously handsome man you have ever met bring you your coffee.

The way his jawline sharpened at a point, braids lying on his shoulders just below it. His lips that seemed awfully soft for someone who probably doesn’t even know what chapstick is. Lashes fluttering prettily over his high genes cheekbones, accenting his golden eyes. Jesus christ he’s pretty. His lips curled into a smirk at your face, your doe’d eyes gleaming up at him. He had some sharp canines.

“‘S one’s yours, Miss.” He placed the steaming mug on your table and you smiled. “Thank you!”

“No worries, Hermosa.” He looked at you a moment longer before the sweet lady called him back to make another order.

“Coming, Momma.” He called back to her, turning back to you for a second time and adding.

“I’m Miles, by the way.”

“Miles.. that’s a cute name.”

His lips upturned again at the compliment.

You gave him your name, which he hummed at, repeating it and rolling it around his tongue. His accent was gorgeous.

“Hope to see you ‘round, [Name].”

You choked out a pathetic affirmation, “Mhmma.— Yeah, yep.”

He laughed lightly and dragged his fingers along the table as he left.

Like claws.

—

Two days later you were back. It was some of the best coffee you’d ever had. And the desserts were the same, most of the cake still sitting boxed in the fridge.

Also there was an added bonus, being the coffee house owner, and her son.

The boy was interesting enough to keep your attention, sweet to you but held a sort of curiosity about him. Like he was hiding something but felt no shame in doing it, that it was righteously excused.

And to be real, you were dying to hear his voice again. Two days and all that had been playing in your head was the way he’d said your name, let the word travel down to his lungs and breathed life into it. A longing into it.

Miles was about the same, probably worse.

You saying his name was cute was probably his new lifeline. The way you had said it so innocently, sweetly to the likes of him. A twisted, wretched man. You had him swooning faster than he deemed safe, his body was going into overdrive. He had watched you while in their cafe, having never met someone so.. untainted by the world. Someone so sweet who carried nothing but a childlike innocence in their curios nature. Nothing done out of bad faith or in vain. You were nothing like him, he adored that.

So when you came wandering back into his Mommas cafe, he hoped to every universe it would be something you didn’t stop doing.

“Ah! Miss, You’re back!” His Ma greeted her, watching as the girl told Rio her name, and his Mom in return.

You guys chatted idly for a moment, your expressions clear as day. He could read you like a grown man could read a picture book, so easy it would be insulting to present him with it, if the content wasn’t you. The brightness and easy nature of you was something refreshing, he would say his Momma was easy-going, but times had been hard lately and his family needed a cheering up. You seemed like the perfect candidate.

Sweet, bubbly and looking at him right now- Oh. He waved at you, shivering at the eye contact and watching as you smiled at him and waved back, hands shaking. He likes how nervous he makes you.

You sniffled a little from the cold, dripping your hand as his Mom room your attention again. She handed you a cinnamon scroll and you paid quickly, dropping twenty bucks in the tip jar and quickly finding your way back to your seat.

“Miles! Un Mocha regular porfavor.”“Miles, regular Mocha please.”

He nodded to his mom, like he hadn’t remembered from last time. Like he hasn’t watched as you enjoyed something he made you.

—

“Bienvenida de nuevo, Chiquita.”“Welcome back, Chiquita.”

Sitting in the same spot as last time, staring at the idling passer-by’s, the light of a Winter morning danced off the snowy ground and highlighted your face, leaving a soft glow in your eyes.

You turned to him, paying him your whole mind.

“Thank you, Miles.” He placed your coffee in front of you, slightly leaning over you. He raised his eyebrows and hummed. You inhaled quickly, breath caught in your throat. Now realising the proximity between the two of you. Not only that, but there was a sweet smell that followed him around, coffee and cinnamon. How fitting.

His voice had gone deeper, smoother.

“I’m glad to see you back here—,” He leaned back again, hand dragging the same way it had two days prior. Your slow blink and parted lips made a deep rooted part of him begin to blossom once more.

He wanted to protect you the way he knew no one else could, wanted to lay his Soul down for you. Let you trace the veins imbedded in his skin with your teeth and take as much from him as you could. Run him dry, let him owe you his life so he can die protecting yours.

The speed his infatuation was growing probably wasn’t healthy.

“Really?” Your sweet, breathless inquiry silenced that though.

“Of course, Mami.”

“I—,” You paused, picking at you fingernails for a moment “,—I like it here, a lot.”

You leaned a little forward in your seat. Pressing your forearms against the wooden tabletop and leaning on them. He watched your back drop into a small arch, and for his own health, decided to ignore it. “‘S very cozy.” You glanced towards the window again. Watching another lad and her dog pass. He watched you.

“Mm, it is.”

“And you’re here.”

He sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to him once more and he held it.

He let his hand drift to your shoulder, rubbing it slowly while he peeled himself away from the table.

“I gotta go, Mami, but enjoy your time.”

“You too, Miles.”

“I’ll be working,” He smiled at you, a small thing.

“I’ll be here. So pretty fun, I’d say.”

He hummed.

“Guess you’re right, Chiquita.”

—

It had been around four Months since Miles had met you. And he was in over his damn head, not that he wasn’t at your first meeting. But progressively, over time, he’d fallen deeper and deeper for you.

Everything you did had him in a chokehold. The way you were so sweet with his Mom, or how even uncle Aaron liked you when he’d stopped by the cafe.

How you offered to help around with no pay, generosity basically leaking from your heart. When you would come over just to see him because you “missed his voice”.

Or would sit in his room and wait for him. If he ever came home late, injured from things you had no business knowing, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You stayed quiet, and patched him up. Let him rest his head on your collarbone while you softly rubbed his shoulders. Trying to lighten the weight of the world off of them.

Every little thing.

He was done pretending like it didn’t affect him. He could barely go a single day without you on his mind constantly, as if.

He knew you felt the same.

Still just as readable as your first meeting. He knew the frequent outings between the two of you were more than just friendly meet-ups to you. To him.

And when your gazes would catch one another, he’d try and tell you. Express without so much as a word how you were the only person he could do this with. The only one he felt comfortable to walk down the street with, and let you chat his ear off about any new movies you’d seen, books you’d have read.

He would let you sleep in his bed, bring little things into his room and give the bland walls life.

You had made a home in him. Cracked chips in his walls on by one until you’d found a single loose stone and happily let everything he’d built up fall just for you.

—

Miles had texted you around mid-day that he’d wanted to see you, in which you’d giggled at your phone dreamily.

Laying on your bed with your stomach down, kicking your legs like a girl gone stupid.

It hadn’t even been much to fret over, just a simple:

Can you come over later?

He had phrased it rather questioningly, but for no good reason. He’d known full well the moment he even insinuated you being with him, you’d jump at the chance.

And you did, swiftly replying;

okayyyy !!

I’ll pick you up at 7.

six…?

7, [Name].

>:(

Don’t be childish.

i’m nvr childish, see u at 6 C:

You got up, threw your phone somewhere on the bed and checked your, admittedly already-packed, overnight bag. Making sure nothing was missing before putting it at your door.

Your phone pinged again.

See you at six.

You smiled.

You spent the rest of that afternoon anxiously waiting for him to pick you up.

—

He showed up at your door five minutes late, greeting you at the door with a soft apology about the tardiness.

“Sorry, Mami. Took a wrong turn.”

“Don’t apologise, Miles.”

You smiled at him, stars in your eyes. He looked away for a second, a bit guilty for lying to you, but he feels it’s worth it.

“Grab your bag, ma. Let’s go.”

You hummed an affirmation, rushing to your room to grab the pink duffel bag.

You grabbed your phone off your night stand and did a double check for everything.

You walked out again, closing the door behind you. Miles was leant up against your doorframe. Forearm pressed on the wood and his torso stretched. A small sliver of his skin had peeked from under the fabric, you thanked the warming weather. Quickly averting your gaze, you noticed him watching your stare in intent, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“You good, Chiquita?”

“Uhuh—, yep. Fine.”

“Mmhm.”

You huffed out, pouting and pressing your palm to his chest, his very toned chest, and pushed back lightly.

“Get outta my way, lame-o, I gotta lock the door.���

He resisted for a moment longer, gazing down at you in humour. He trailed his hand up your arm slyly and pried your hand off his chest by sliding his thumb up from under your wrist onto your palm. Slowly pulling you off him.

“Maybe ask politely.”

You gave him an unimpressed stare and flipped him off.

“Miles.”

“[Name].”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s just a ‘please’.”

“..-Please, get the fuck outta my way.”

“Of course, Hermosa.” He snorted as he did.

You turned around, Miles still close to you in the cramped hallway, and locked your door.

You turned around, noticing his eyes glance up from where they were before and shot him a questioning look. He turned around and led you through you hallway, dismissing the look.

—

He opened the steel door to the cafe. The scenery of a rooftop garden with the same Lilly-of-the-Valley flowers up here as there were out front of the store.

Shrubbery lined the rooftop edge and the string lights hung from the veranda created an atmosphere that seemed almost cinematic.

“Jesus, Miles. This is beautiful.”

“Mm, thought you’d like it.”

“I do, so much.”

You stated in awe at the mural painted on a buildings wall behind the door. A man who stroke a resemblance to Miles painted surrounded by colours of any.

The moonlight basked against the neon colours, accenting the man’s features.

“My dad.”

Your gaze snapped up to him beside you, brows furrowing in a frown.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S cool. Nothin’ you coulda known, Ma.”

He sighed at the image of his father, wishing him well rest.

Turning to you, he wasn’t surprised to see the greif in your eyes. He was, though, surprised at the lack of pity.

He was so used to having his far family whisper behind his back at how his soul had died with his fathers. How the light in his eyes had gone missing the day his hand had been forced, unable to get to his dad in time.

There was no escaping his death.

So to feel the understanding coming from you—. The confidence in your sorry but knowledge that pity would do no one any good, it was refreshing. Everything about you was.

He turned away from your watchful eyes, the intensity being unusual for him.

“Come sit, vida mía.”

You followed him dutifully, loyally. Like you had since the last Winter. Like you would continue for the next to come.

A set of pillows had been placed in the middle of the veranda. White wood covered in lively vines and the aforementioned string lights.

There was a layout of his pastries (which you had learned he was the baker of) laid out on a cotton blanket.

You sat on one of the pillows, legs crossed. Miles following short after.

“Oooh,” You begun to tease him “,This a romantic dinner date?” The tone of your voice was in jest, but when he had failed to answer— Your heart rate sped up and your face went hot to the touch.

“Miles? Y’know I— I was just jokin’—“ “If you want it to be.”

You stood stupidly for a moment, not quite reeling in his words like any other person would.

“Wh—.”

It was his turn for unsurity now, eyes dancing nervously between you and the skyline.

“No pressure, though. Just think it’d be nice.”

“It would.”

He refocused on you again, finding you already watching him owlishly. “Yeah?”

“Mm, we could—,”

He anxiously started picking at the blanket. Who knew someone usually so calm could be this nervous asking out the most harmless girl he knew.

“Try. We could try that, together.” You mumbled a bit, seemingly playing it off. “If you want, or something..”

“I do.” He gained some leg to stand on, finding it easier and easier as you spoke, your nerves somehow calming his own.

“I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“Oh good, cause—“ You placed your hand in your lap, cracking your knuckles. “—Me too, so. That’s good.”

He grinned at your awkwardness, knowing your lack of experience in the relationship aspect of life, this mutual agreement, instead of one asking the other out, probably hasn’t been an experience of yours yet. He liked he was the first.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You puffed at him, punching his arm lightly.

“I’m never shy, that’s for dumb stupid lame people. And I am none of those.” “Oh, sure.”

“Wh— Sure?! Which one are you ‘sure’-ing? Dumb, stupid or lame?!”

“Uhuh.”

“Miles!”

“Keep saying my name like that, mami.”

“Oh my goodness!”

—

And when you both finally got into his bed, you’d slept tangled together like you had dozens of times before. But this time, Miles would grab your waist and pull you closer. Settle his face in your neck and trace his nose down the length of your shoulder, peppering a kiss on every inch of skin he could find, and you’d both finally felt sure.

Maybe people were right, maybe Miles’s soul had died with his father.

But meeting you, something new, something rejuvenating—.

It left him with a light he could search for, a new soul. A whisp of a being you’d taken from your own heart and placed in his. It left him breathless with life.

—

YIPEEE!!!!! another one 🗣️‼️

thank you to my translation helpers (bbgs) @kissmxcheek and @millyswife

(oh, wrong Miles! oops! 🤗⬇️)

[calumfmu]

all in your head, but I want nonfiction.

You knew who you married to at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for everything and more you could've wanted. Everything except his time.

You were the woman of the house, responsible for the affairs over here. And the tattooed man lingering in the yard was the perfect thing to start with.

or; Steddie x reader. (business man!Steve, worker!Eddie, stay at home wife!reader) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (female and male receiving), fingering, back shots (yes pls), creampie, nipple sucking, threesome, mutual masturbation, slight hair pulling kink, use of the nickname Stevie, brief mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse, (7.7k+ words of pure smut)

It was three months this time, he had been gone. Six total, if you didn't count the two weeks that he was home in between trips. You were really starting to miss your husband, craving his presence, beginning to feel the emptiness of the house you were in.

"Greece is good this time of year," Steve commented, face blurred on the FaceTime call. You hummed, swirling the glass of Cabernet in your hand.

"Yeah, I wouldn't know," you teased, smacking your tongue against your teeth. A quirk of his eyebrow thrown in your direction, the screen lagging slightly as his mouth moved before the words could come out. You often did this, poked fun at the situation, but as of late, the truth has started to leak through the cracks of your words.

"Babe, you know I have to-"

And in that second, the call ended in three abrupt beeps, 'Called Failed' appearing in his place. With a sigh, you threw your phone aside, used to this type of instance occurring. As much money as your husband made, you could barely get the time to speak to him during this time of the year, his service always being the worst or calls being rushed or interruptions always happening.

You knew who you married at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for the roof of the mansion over your head, making you a stay at home wife, supplying you with everything you could ever want without even having to voice that. Everything except his time. In the mean time, you’ve buried your time with drinking, book clubs on top of book clubs, expensive dinners alone, and loads of ogling at the men in town you could look at, but not touch.

Seeing your husband, touching your husband only a total of three times in the past half year was an aching feeling, loneliness creeping in at the worst times of the day. Time passed so slowly, it was hard to imagine even seeing him again some days.

You started at the window, gripping the wine glass at your hand as you reached for the decanter perched on the window sill. The sound of the alcohol pouring into the glass filled the room, your wandering eyes searching through the yard for anything to entertain you.

Bingo.

A tall man, curly hair long and pulled back into a bun. Short sleeved, white shirt tight against his frame as he paraded through the grass, boots stopping every now and then as he glanced at the plants in the garden. Your brow furrowed as the confusion set in, wondering who this man was in your yard and yet so interested in learning who he is.

You tapped on the window loudly, knuckles rapping against the pane of the glass as you tried getting his attention.

“Hey!” You called, waving your arm in the air in between knocks.

The man in your yard heard something, his own face turning up as he looked around himself. His eyes searched the grass area before glancing up, settling on your figure displayed through the glass.

“What are you doing?” You shouted, aware that there wasn’t a chance he heard what you were saying. To confirm your suspicions, his hand rose to shield his eyes, the sun glaring down at him as he stared up at you.

He mouthed something, shrugging his shoulders as the two of you held eye contact.

“What are you-” You cut yourself off with a huff, turning on one heel to march downstairs, intent on swearing up a storm, telling him to get off of your property before your husband has something to say about it. And even if the likelihood of getting said husband even on the phone was low, this stranger truly didn’t have to know.

The silk robe you wore flowed in the air as you made yourself way down the stairs, one hand still gripping your wine glass, the other pinching it closed, lounge wear not exactly appropriate for the interaction you were about to have. The four minutes it took you to trek through the house and out the door had you praying he had disappeared, become a figment of your imagination by now.

Double doors swinging open, you stepped out onto the porch, your own hand raising above your eyebrows to block out the UV rays.

To your luck (or despair), he was still there, crouched down as he looked at the array of sprinkler systems.

“What are you doing?” You accused, stepping out further of the house as he shot up in your direction. Surprise was written all over his face, deep lines appearing on his forehead.

“Hi, ma’am, I’m—”

“You have about three seconds to get off of my property,” you tightened the robe around your chest, noticing the way his eyes dipped to explore the expanse of your chest shown.

“Ma’am, I’m—”

“My husband’s going to be home any moment,” A lie. And you both knew it by the way his eyes squinted a little. You doubled down. The wine was starting to take effect. “And he’ll have you arrested. We know the chief.”

An amused smirk passed on his face, smugness oozing from his features. He waited a beat, eyes twinkling with humor.

“Are you finished?”

Your mouth dropped open, shock written all your face. The mocking, you definitely weren’t used to it. You hated to lean into the spoiled stay at home wife trope, but you were used to people folding at you, kissing your ass based on the family that you happened to marry into.

“Excuse m—”

“I’m friends with Steve,” he spit out, smiling even wider at the wide eyes you gave him. “Eddie. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

His hand shot out to shake yours, dropping slowly as you just stared down at it. You could drop the act now, realizing that this man had to have been telling the truth. You hadn’t heard anyone call your husband by his first name in years, ‘Harrington’ being the only calling card.

You took a sip of the dark alcohol in your grasp, glancing away from him as you rested a hand on your hip. His eyes chose to linger over your body, cleavage exposed through your lounge wear. Huffing, you pulled the cover up closed once more, warmth tinging your cheeks.

“And your business here is? If you knew Steve, you would know he doesn’t just invite friends over.”

“Oh, uhm,” Eddie took a step closer to you, standing side to side as he began to point over the yard. You suddenly noticed the clipboard and phone in his other hand. “I’m the new groundsman, taking over the landscaping, plans for the new yard, the whole lot.”

Ah. That did sound somewhat familiar, mentioned somewhere between the bottles of Dom Perignon you and your best friend shared the other week over a FaceTime call with Steve.

He turned towards you again, his eyes wandering for the thousandth time. You couldn’t tell if the heat was making your robe slip a little looser or if the wine was truly getting to you.

“You must be the wife,” Eddie smiled, toothy grin settling over his face as he held eye contact. In the length of this interaction, the sun has began to dip lower in the sky. You got a good look at him, not seeing any obvious similarities on how he would be friends with your husband, in any universe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Define a lot,” another sip of your wine down the hatch. The double pour was nearly gone by now.

“Woman of the house.” He took a step closer to you, pushing the clipboard down in front of him. “Takes care of things for Stevie over here.” The tone of his voice shifted. “Could get terribly lonely sometimes.”

The concept of looking and not touching was getting a little harder for you. Gasping, you turned towards the house, downing the last of your beverage.

“I’m going to get more.”

You took a few steps towards the house before briefly turning your body to him. He was watching your movements, head tilted to the side slightly as he stared down at the sway of your hips.

“Are you coming or not?”

He was quick on his feet, tracking you on your heels as the two of you made your way up the grand entrance. The coolness of the house, covered in marble and white instantly taming the heat taking over your body. Eddie let out a low whistle, his neck craning up to stare at the high ceilings, chandelier hanging above the entry way. Everything about the place was pristine and huge, money screaming even the gloss of paint covering from the walls.

The sound of his boots were loud following your bare feet, making his way into the kitchen behind you.

“Nice one, Steve,” Eddie laughed to himself, shaking his head. You went over to the wine rack on one end of the kitchen, ripping off a bottle without even glancing at the label. Another crystal glass followed, you placing it in front of the man before you.

His finger was running along the marble countertops, his eyes wide as he studied the detail. Just as you went to pour a glass for him, his hand shot out.

“Oh no, hun. I can’t do wine,” he rushed, a smile on his face. You ignored the nickname, hand paused as the bottle was tilted in the air. Staring up at him, your face was emotionless.

“Sober?”

He opened his mouth to speak, cutting himself off with a laugh. “Not exactly. Just makes me… a little reckless,” he finished, placing the clipboard down on the counter.

A smirk of your own crossed your lips before you poured the glass anyways, sliding it over to him once a hefty serving was in front of you. He shook his head as he reached for it despite his own words, swallowing down a gulp.

The two of you stood in silence, devious looks in your eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in the white shirt he wore, how it hugged him just right. It felt wrong, thinking of your husband’s friend like this. It had been so long since any type of male interaction, you couldn’t help but feel tempted.

“Babe?”

You jumped where you stood, your topped off glass fumbling in your fingertips. Your best friend appearing around the corner, her loafers sounding out through the corridors.

“Robin, Jesus Christ—”

She stopped just as she rounded the corner, eyes darting in between the two of you. The look she gave you made you speechless, her all knowing eyes saying everything she needed to.

“And you are…?”

Eddie put down his glass, a glance thrown in your direction once more before he took a few steps towards Robin. She squared up her shoulders, amusement on her face.

“Leaving,” he smiled, passing her. You and the other girl in the room watched him making his way over to the main corridor. He turned to you one last time before disappearing. “Mrs. Harrington, it was a pleasure, hun.”

He disappeared, a wink thrown in your direction. Your breath caught in your throat at his last move, shaky hands bringing the glass of alcohol to your lips.

“Hun??” Robin questioned once the front door slammed behind him. She came to your side, eyebrows raised behind her wispy bangs. “Hun!”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed the fingers away from you as she pulled on the hem of your robe.

“Rob—please.”

“Uh uh, babe. We’re going to talk about this,” she laughed, taking the glass from your fingertips. She took her own swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

A dead pan look covered her. “All I’m saying is Harrington better watch out. He’s got some competition.”

You laughed bitterly at her words, taking a seat at one of the bar chairs. It was cool against your exposed legs, the heat from the moment finally drifting from them.

“Well, Harrington,” you mocked the last name she used, the both of you realizing if anyone had the right to call him Steve, it was her. “Was the one who hired him, new house job or whatever.”

“Consider that a gift,” she shrugged, laughing loudly as you shoved her shoulder. Heat pooled at your cheeks (and between your legs).

“Robin!”

“I’m just saying! He probably put an ad in the paper or something: Lonely Housewife Looking to Fuck.”

You dropped your head in your hands, laughter bubbling out at her words. She couldn’t get more ridiculous than this. A gasp left your mouth, your eyes peaking between the spaces of your fingers as you looked at her.

She was looking at the clipboard he had forgotten, a scrap of paper on top of the various items.

“I’d dust off the cobwebs, babe,” she giggled, sliding over the board to you. You peaked down at what was written, your heart racing at the scribble next to his number.

‘For the lonely wife. We could talk business. xx Eddie.’

It had gotten interesting the last few weeks, the second story window becoming your favorite spot to watch Eddie work in the yard. The sweltering heat was your best friend behind the AC of your home, choosing to enjoy the way Eddie looked in the Indiana heat. Tight tank tops, tattoos exposed, hair pulled to the back of his head with loose curls framing his face.

He barked off orders to his crew, always cracking jokes with them, teeth bared in a grin. He was clearly a joy to be around, spreading humor to even you from yards away.

It was a cat and mouse game you could call it, Eddie clearly showing off his muscles and sex appeal while you played the other side, risking just how little of clothing you could get away with inside the comfort of your own home. You passed in front of windows, dropping the shoulders of your silk robes as you pretended to get distracted, bending over to grab ‘forgotten’ items on the floor.

You knew he knew what you were doing. He was aware of it the entire time, his own smiles thrown in your direction as you began to push your limits of what could be acceptable for looking, and not touching.

The shrill ringing of the FaceTime call brought you out of your observations, Steve’s contact appearing on screen. You slid open the call, smiling brightly when his face appeared, styled hair, button down open, exposing that silver chain and his chest full of hair.

“There’s my handsome boy,” you beamed, blowing a kiss to the screen. Steve smiled brightly, pressing his lips to the camera.

“And my beautiful wife,” he cooed, holding up the camera wide to give you a view of him. He was on a coast somewhere, Mediterranean. The view was beautiful, waves crashing as the sun was nearly gone from the sky.

“What are you up to, my love?”

You glanced out the window at Eddie, noticing his crew was gone. He stood alone in the center of the yard, taking a look at the landscaping design prints.

“Just… relaxing,” you let the camera show you resting against the window seat in your room, lingerie on display. The camera only showed a flash of your cleavage before you brought the camera back up, a shy, yet devious look on your face.

“What do y—oh.”

It was quick, the way Steve moved. Your phone screen showed a blur of Steve’s clothing, the sound of his footsteps, and the sliding of a glass door before he was shown again on the screen, his hair fanning out on a pillow on a bed.

“Tell me more.”

From the angle, you could tell that Steve had began to touch himself at the thought of you. You showed more of yourself, manicured hand beginning to run down your chest, trailing down your stomach to rest on the front of your panties.

It had been months since you last did this over the phone, the timing always so wrong or one of you not in the mood or always something.

“Thinking of you, Steve.”

It couldn’t be a lie if you were omitting part of the truth. He didn’t need to know you were thinking about Eddie as well.

“Fuck.”

The phone dropped against his chest, showing black before he picked it up again, a flushed look on his face. You giggled slightly, spreading your legs against the window bench as you showed more of yourself. Your hand slipped down the front of your underwear, teasing slightly as you ran the pads of your fingertips against your clit.

“Wish I was there with you, baby,” Steve sighed, eyes closed as slick noise began to be heard through the phone. You brushed your clit harder, whimpering as you thought of your husband touching himself to the thought of you.

Glancing out the window, Eddie was still distracted, back turned towards you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you dipped a finger lower, entering yourself.

“I miss you so much, Steve,” a whine left your throat. He let out a shuddered moan.

“You miss me, baby?”

Nodding, you pushed in another finger, the sound of your own slick filling your eyes. Pleasure began to course through you, an ache settling at your core.

“What do you miss the most?”

His tooth was dug into his bottom lip, a fucked out look on his face from his own hand. You could only imagine how he was feeling, achingly hard across the world from his wife who just looked so tempting.

“I miss your—fuck Steve—I miss your cock,” a whimper fell from you, your chest heaving as your fingers crooked against that spot deep inside you. You weren’t going to last long, this feeling had been building inside you for weeks.

“Oh my G—”

Steve’s side of the phone fell once again, a loud groan heard before the call dropped, the dial tone loud in the room. Tears pricked in your eyes as you tossed your phone to the side, leaning your head against the window as you looked down in the yard once more, fingers moving swiftly in and out of your wetness.

You had an audience now.

Eddie was staring up at you, look of shock on his face as he held the plans in his hand. A look from him alone was all you needed before coming, pussy throbbing around your digits, legs squeezing shut.

It was the most intense orgasm you had in a while, your body tensing up with release as pleasure washed over you. It took a moment before you came to, fingers leaving your core as you brushed once, twice more over your clit, riding out the feeling.

You didn’t have the nerve to look outside again, shame washing over you as you realized what had just happened.

Phone ringing once again, your shaky hand reached over the grab it, answering it to see Steve, face flushed and lip bitten red on the other end.

“I’m sorry, baby—This fucking service over here, I’m sorry,” he rushed, eyes apologetic. That puppy dog look you fell for was staring at you, grainy as his phone struggled to keep up. “Did you—”

You barely nodded, eyes hooded while you came down from your high.

“Babe, it’s okay.”

“No, I just—I’m sorry.”

“Steve,” he cut off his rambling as you gave him a stern look. You really did run things around the Harrington home. “I’m okay, really.”

“I love you.”

You smiled, blowing him another kiss. “I love you t-”

A male’s voice called from his end of the phone, immediately distracting both you and your husband. Sighing, you knew what was coming.

His face was sincere as he turned back to you, lips fixed in a pout.

“I gotta—”

You waved him off, sitting up slightly as you closed the silk around your frame. “Yeah, yeah, go handle business, Harrington.”

That’s why he loved you. No matter how much this truly did affect you, and how much you wished you could have more than a 10 minute call, you always were so supportive. He did support the lifestyle that you always dreamed of, even if it did come with certain circumstances that weren’t ideal.

“I love you, baby.” He moved to hang up the phone, pausing before ending the call. “Tell Ed I said hey, by the way.”

You swore your heart stopped beating in that moment as he left.

You had resorted to staying inside, avoiding Eddie and his crew that occupied your lawns during the day hours. The deep insides of your home without windows facing them became your isolation points. It was everything and more for you to avoid him, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach.

You'd even gone as far as avoiding Robin and her prying eyes. She had known something was going on with you, felt it deep in her soul. That woman knew you like the back of her hand, could recognize every shift of emotion you'd experience, knew something had gone down between the two of you even if touching wasn't necessarily involved.

("Is there something wrong, babe? You've barely touched your Pomerol." The eye roll you gave her could win awards.)

It was like something shifted in the air, grey clouds pulling in and thunder rumbling so hard, you could feel it in your chest. The next time you happened to pass in front of the foyer window you had seen that Eddie and his crew were quickly gone, not expecting the change in weather events.

Relaxation began to sag its relief at your shoulders, no longer feeling like a prisoner in your own home. It was a long time coming, you hadn't felt this much relief in your system since that after that Hargrove heir you briefly dated back in '06.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, Robin's image immediately popping up into your mind. It was probably time for her to finally confront you, bring Steve into it somehow and blame the Benzos for acting the way you had been lately. (It had nothing to do with it.)

You threw open the door, the weight of it slightly swinging your body. Your eyes didn't meet the person at first, an infamous eye roll already on the verge, "Rob, I don’t want to t—Oh."

It was Eddie in all his glory, T-shirt glued to his body from the rain that began to pour, curls beginning to hang loosely from the bun he wore, cheeks red and flushed. He breathed heavy upon seeing you, a smile ghosting his lips.

"Hi, hun," his voice was low, a slight hint of something in it.

You didn't know what to say, glancing behind you as if there was anyone to catch you for even thinking terrible thoughts. His eyes followed yours.

"Well, can I come in?"

"Oh." You swung the door a little wider, cringing at the way his work boots tracked in water from outside.

He shook out his hair like a dog, the droplets dampening you from afar. You didn't have the nerve to say anything to him, gobsmacked from the fact he was in front of you like a Greek God, beautiful as ever, but tempting in the worst way possible.

"I got stuck outside... truck wouldn't start," he explained, looking around the house as if it were the first time that he was in here. The realization of the scene in front of you finally caught up, you rushing to action to try and be the welcoming host that you always were.

"I think... here, come, Steve should have something you could change into," you said, beginning to lead him upstairs. You stopped at the base of the spiral staircase, pointing at his boots. "You better not."

He beamed at your words, quirking his eyebrow at you as if you said the funniest thing ever. Toeing them off quietly, he then followed your lead to your upstairs bedroom. He stared at you all while doing it, the tension in the room growing even at the thought of him undressing even slightly.

The track there felt like you were walking the green mile, Eddie close behind you as you lead him to the walk-in closet. He was silent, the only sounds of his breathing giving him away.

Back to him, you opened the panel hiding Steve's lounging clothes, rows of white and creme and pastel materials appearing. You felt his presence behind you, something like a predator creeping on its prey.

"I think he's—what are you, a size f—" Your breath hitched on your throat as you felt his fingers touch your forearms, guiding your hands down from the clothing.

His lips brushed the cartilage of your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him finally touching you.

His hand trailed up your arm, snaking around your exposed neck, a light kiss being pressed to the skin in front of your ear. You leaned your head back against him, a cut off groan leaving you as you relished in this moment.

"I've been waiting on this, hun," He whispered, reaching one hand down to your waist to pull you flush against him.

You gasped at the feeling of him against your backside, his body just as firm as you expected. The other hand cupped against the bottom of your chin, tilting your head back even further so his lips could press into the junction of your neck.

"You've looked so good," he continued. "So tempting."

Your hands reached up to grab at his arm, your ass pushing even further into him. He walked backwards with you in his grasp, falling against the large ottoman in the center of the closet. It was big enough to seat the two of you, his large frame sprawled in the center of it while you sat petite in his lap, legs on either side of his, back pressed into his chest.

"I can't believe Stevie leaves you here. All alone. So vulnerable."

A whimper left your mouth as he leaned back slightly, pulling you with him. The hand that was once around your waist snaked down to your front, dipping down into the front of your silk sleep shorts.

"Eddie." You whimpered, his name coming out in a choke as he ghosted over your clit.

He was teasing in his movements, bringing you right to the precipice of pleasure. The second he got close to pressing down firm and just right, he would remove his touch, only to ghost down lower to tease your dampening hole.

"What do you need?"

You groaned, spreading your legs further as he continued in his movements. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you wanted to refuse to give in, refuse to have yourself beg for him. But it had been months after all, the only human touch you'd experience was from yourself.

"I need you."

It was a quiet whine into the room, almost inaudible behind the heavy breathing. That one word was all that he needed, his hand fully pressing into your cunt, swirling your clit in a way that had your head spinning.

The choked sob that left your mouth earned a groan of his own, loud and just as wanting as your own. Your head was leaned back against him, your neck exposed, mouth wide open and turned towards the ceiling.

Eddie's mouth was sucking and licking along your neck, his heavy breathing tickling at your spine as he dipped a finger to press into you, thumb circling your clit. The digit stretched you wide, wetness pooling down onto his hand.

"You get this wet just for me?"

Your hips were grinding against his hand, wanting more from him as he finger fucked you.

"Eddie please."

"I know, hun, I know." He removed his hand from you, standing you up and off his lap. You whimpered at the loss of contact, squeezing your legs together as he was sprawled in front of you.

He reached his hands towards you, stopping at the hem of your tank top to pull it up and over you, exposing your naked breasts to him. A glimmer of arousal appeared in his eyes, his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he stared at your chest, hand reaching up to cup at the globes. Leaning up, he took one nipple into his mouth from his seated position, licking and sucking at the hardened nub.

It was like you found yourself in heaven, sudden pleasure finding you all at once. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pulled him into your chest even further, whining at the contact of his mouth on your skin.

He traded onto the other nipple, squeezing the abandoned one between his fingers. He moaned in between the loud sucking, making a show of how much he loved the taste of you.

Pulling away, his fingers found the hem of your shorts. The material pooled down at your feet, your stark nakedness becoming apparent in the giant room against his clothed body.

He drank you in, his eyes roaming your body as you stood in front of him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief.

He reached down to his pants, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding down the zipper ever so slowly. It was torture, watching him undress himself, the slide of his jeans down his legs, dropping down to his ankles with his boxers to follow.

He pulled his shirt over his head, spreading his legs wide as he leaned back on the ottoman. His cock was fully free, springing to full attention as he took a hold of it. Dropping your eyes down to ogle at the sheer beauty of it, head dripping wet with precum, long and thick with a vein running down the middle.

Eddie smirked at your fascination, ushering you closer to him with the curve of his finger.

You took a seat on his lap, legs caging him in as you settled over his cock, head pressing at your entrance. As he pressed in slightly, your eyes bulged slightly, realizing that in no way you were not prepared for his size.

His lips pursed into a shushing motion, "Shh, hun, it's okay."

He guided your hips down onto him, pressing deep into you. The feeling of his cock split you wide open, a strained moan pouring out of you. Your fingers wrapped around his neck, gripping at him to ease the stretch you were feeling.

Giving you only a second of breathing time, he gripped at your waist, urging you up and down on his shaft, thrusting into you shallowly.

He hit you deep, hitting every spot you forgot was inside of you, pleasure creeping through your body.

"F-fuck Eddie," your moans were load in the room, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass growing louder as he became more brutal in his movement.

Pulling you against him, he slotted his lips with yours, harshly nipping at the skin, sinking his teeth into your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth. You were lost in the pleasure, soaking wet around him as he fucked into you.

His fingers were splayed across your hips, dipping onto the curve of your ass as you bounced on his cock. Your orgasm was approaching quick, a lot quicker than you had imagined.

"You wanna cum for me, babe?" He mouthed against you, lips not leaving yours as your vision began to fog.

The curve of his cock hit your spongey wall repeatedly, urging completion suddenly. Your body began to tense up, legs shaking as you approached your high, cock-drunk on this feeling.

"Eds, I'm go—"

Your orgasm washed over you, tensing your spine as he fucked you through it, clit throbbing as it brushed that thatch of hair as the base of his cock. He was quick to follow, pulling out just in time to come over you, painting white over the bottom of your stomach.

It was messy, dripping over the two of you as the come down approached you. You took a moment, breathing deeply as your eyes briefly shut, head falling against his shoulder while you relaxed into him.

He was breathless, wrapping his arms around you to settle into your lap.

"I've been waiting on this a while," he admitted, sighing deep into your neck. You nodded at his words, agreeing, yet speechless for the mind-blowing orgasm you had just experienced.

He leaned back, pressing a small kiss to your mouth before looking into your eyes, head leaning against your own.

"Round two? I could use a shower."

He laughed at your words, shock evident in his eyes at your boldness, but jumping at the opportunity, throwing your body over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

As the dreary weather settled outside, you couldn't be more thankful for the turn of events. There was a long night ahead of you.

The morning light crept through the drawn curtains, your naked body sprawled out against the white sheets. Drawing slowly into consciousness, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, reaching beside you.

The bed was cold, Eddie's figure obviously missing from your side for who knows how long.

Memories of last night came flooding back to you, the positions that he had you in bringing out the soreness in your body. There were visions of you propped up against the shower wall, your legs thrown over his shoulders, pressed to your chest, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, until you couldn't give any more.

Draping the bed sheet around your naked body, you sat up in bed, perking up at the smell of fresh coffee brewing. There was a skip in his step as you heard him coming down the hall, energy coming back to you as you imagined what was to come, breakfast in bed, getting bent in between courses.

Your smile dropped from your face as you saw him, large cup in hand as he made his way into the room. Steve.

His perfectly styled brown hair, that charming smile as he stared at you, raising his eyebrows as he saw you relaxed in bed. Your nakedness seemed like a lot, even in the privacy of your own shared bedroom.

"There's my girl," he smiled, placing the mug down on the bedside table before leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. Your hand subconsciously came up to cover the side of your neck, dark purple bruises had to have been there from the events of last night.

"S-Steve, what are you doing here?"

He fake pouted, a scoff leaving his mouth. "Three months, and that's all you got?"

The sudden realization that your husband was right here hit you, a smile crossing your features as you wrapped your arms around him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing loudly as you attacked him with kisses, your lips covering every inch of skin that you could find.

"Relax, relax," he cackled, pressing his own kisses to you in between attacks.

Pulling away, he took a good look at you, the most loving smile covering his face. Guilt found you, pooling deep in your chest and the pit of your stomach. Your loving husband, being away to support you, only to come home and find his wife in this position, a classic case of infidelity.

"Steve," your voice fell short as you stared into his auburn eyes. His brow furrowed, his thumb coming up to swipe at your eyebrow, smoothing the crinkled skin.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I just—" Cue the dramatics. Tears began to well in your eyes as you processed the situation, he didn't deserve this. There was nothing he could do to calm you down, the hitching of your breath in your throat, the choked sob leaving your mouth as you struggled over the words to say.

"Did you miss me that much?"

You choked even harder at his words, pulling you into his arms as your vision became blurry. It was getting even worse for you.

"Baby..." There was a warning tone in his words, his patience growing thin as you wouldn't let up. You brought yourself together, hiccuping slightly as you stared up into his eyes. Your mouth opened and closed, the words to say leaving you.

You didn't need to say anything as his eyes finally decided to trail lower than your face, noticing the dark bruises forming along the side of your neck. His eyebrows raised slightly as the rest of his face remained emotionless, his thumb tracing over the skin.

"I don't know what to say," you said, hanging your head away from him. You couldn't look him in the eyes as he studied the hickies left behind from Eddie.

"I see you got my present," he whispered, running the pad of his finger over your neck.

Your head shot up to look at him, eyes wide and confused.

"You-what are you...? Steve—what?" You didn't know what to say to him, confused on what was even happening right now. He was so stoic, you couldn't read him. His eyes found yours, humor in his eyes.

"Eddie. My present."

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words, memories of the past few weeks knowing the mentioned man passing through your mind. Realization hit you, knowing that this man in front of you was so calculated, everything had to have been him.

"Why didn't you say anything!" You wanted to kill him, but wanted to kiss him at the same time.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he shrugged, smirking at you as relief crossed over your face. You wiped the hot tears that had streaked your cheeks, embarrassed of the thought you could even betray him.

"How did you even—are you sure this wasn't a test I just failed?"

He laughed at your words, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I promise, baby."

You sighed in relief as he kissed you, fingers underneath your chin to pull you closer into him. Kissing this man felt like a dream that would've never came true, a surprise of your life time brought to its fullest extent.

His mouth was as soft as you remembered, taste as sweet as the last time. All those months of anticipation were worth the wait, feeling like it was truly nothing.

He leaned over your body, pressing you down into the mattress as the sheet began to fall away from your body. With your fingers pulling open the button down he wore, his chest became exposed, firm muscle rippling underneath your touch.

"You beat me to it, Stevie."

A gasp left you as you pulled away from your husband, head craning towards the door. Eddie stood in the frame, white bath towel draped loosely over his hips, hair dripping wet from a shower. He took in the sight of the two of you tangled on the bed, Steve's shirt hanging half off of him, the sheet gone from your body.

Glancing up at the man above you, you saw the smirk he was giving Eddie, canines exposed. It was like you were looking at someone completely different from the man you've known for years, an evil, sexually driven person in front of you.

"You going to stand there, Munson or...?"

With a smirk of his own, he was headed over to you two, towel dropping from his body. His cock was already hard and heavy between his legs, dripping with anticipation as he threw himself on the bed. Immediately, his hands found your body, headed straight towards your hard nipples with his mouth quick to follow.

A strangled moan escaped you as the shock settled over, Steve leaning up on his knees to get rid of his pants.

The belt was thrown across the room, his eyes not leaving the two of you once as he undressed.

"Wait—" You breathed, pushing Eddie off of you. The two men stared down at you, scared of your next move, that you would end whatever this was right now. You looked towards Steve, eyebrows raised. "Are you okay with this?"

Steve's eyebrows raised as he glanced in between the two of you, his hand pulling his dick out of his boxers, pushed down to his thigh. Your eyes dropped down to take view, mouth watering at the sight.

"Let's just say... we have a history of sharing."

He winked at Eddie before diving between your legs, nose immediately pressed to your cunt. You didn't have time to even think about what he said, figuring that it was a topic to explore at a much later time.

His tongue quickly found your clit, circling the nub before licking up the length of your slit. Your thighs squeezed the side of his head, a whine filling the room as Eddie sat up to stare at the show. His own hand tangled in Steve's mane, pulling him closer to you as he sopped you up. The groan he let out vibrated against your core, urging another wave of wetness out of you.

"F-fuck Ste-"

You couldn't even get the words out as his finger pressed at your hole, pushing in a single digit. It curled against your wall, pressing into your pleasure point. Your head was thrown back into the pillows against the headboard, white hot pleasure tingling at your spine.

Eddie leaned down to lick at your nipple, eyes intently watching Steve suck at your cunt, chin growing more wet from your juices.

"Baby-please-"

He nodded, glancing up to make eye contact with the two of you. Not moving, he inserted another finger into you, moving at a faster pace. You whimpered even louder, spreading your legs wider to get him deeper inside of you.

"You want to share?" Eddie laughed, sitting up to stroke at his hard cock. A pearl of white beaded at the tip, squeezed out by the cuff of his hand.

Steve smirked around your clit, pulling away at the retort as he pulled you up to meet him. Turning you around, you were maneuvered to your hands and knees, ass pressed into the air. He ran the head of his cock against your hole, dragging it up over your ass and back down to your cunt, pressing at the sensitive hole.

Hissing at the feeling, you were still sore from the multiple rounds you went with Eddie the previous night.

"You had her all night, 's my turn, Munson," Steve breathed, pressing to the hilt in a smooth motion. The two of you groaned as he fully pressed into you. He paused in his movements, hand pressed to the small of your back as you both adjusted.

Eddie shrugged, moving in front of you with his legs splayed wide open, hand stroking his shaft.

You knew what to do, leaning down onto your elbows to take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking at it. His hand gripped the back of your head, pushing you down farther than you expected. The gag that left your mouth filled the room, catching Steve off guard as his hips stuttered inside of you.

"Watch it," he hissed, pausing only slightly before pulling out and pressing back in all the way. His cock had a curve in it, damn near pressing into your cervix as he fucked you.

Eddie was smirking, hand still on your head as you began to bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

You were so filled on both ends, you were seeing stars. Both men in your presence were making you feel like you had lost it, the heavy alcohol consumption over the past few months maybe had really gotten to you.

Your hand trailed off of Eddie's dick, dropping down to cup at his balls, rolling them between your fingers. Eddie's head fell against the headboard, his hips stuttering as you took him into your mouth.

With every thrust of Steve's hips, you were rocked into the tattooed man in front of you, choking down further and further. It was all becoming a little too much, both holes being filled beyond your limits.

"Just like that, baby, fuck," Steve moaned, hand inching up your spine to rest at the top of your spine. He leaned over, forcing your legs a little wider so his cock pressed even further into you. His hand found the base of your neck, pushing your head even further onto Eddie.

The motion had Eddie groaning, hips suddenly spilling as he came, warm liquid spurting down your throat. It had you choking, pulling off of him in time for it to spill out of your mouth, dripping back down onto him. The entire moment was so dirty, so filthy, it caused a chain reaction, Steve pressing into you once, twice more before cumming deep.

You pulsed around him, squeezing tight as your own orgasm took over you. For a split moment, you think you passed out, vision blurring, going black briefly before you came to, laying down on your stomach, legs shaking.

Your hand came to wipe at your eyes, tears pooling at the corners from the high you just experienced. There was no way you were coming down from this, the purest form of pleasure you think you'd ever experienced.

Eddie was leaning against the headboard, cock swelling down after his spend, his hand running over your skin as you leaned against his thigh. Steve was half way on you, his own breath catching from the high.

"You okay there, hun?"

Eddie's voice was raspy, his eyes wandering over you and your husband. Nodding, you threw him a shaky thumbs up, not finding the words to even utter a syllable.

Steve laughed, running his hand over your spine. It found the base of your spine, squeezing the globe of your ass.

"I think she will be after a few more rounds."

nothing more. all I have to say on this. hope you guys enjoyed this lengthy piece of pure smut. lol xx

masterlist. <3

[hgfictionwriter]

Discretion

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Vacationing with Jessie’s family is great, but it has drawbacks as well. When Jessie and you just want some ✨ Quality Time ✨ together, frustrations and tensions build and you both try to find relief.

Warnings: Smut. Sexting, edging, fingering, possessive language/sex, service top!Jessie.

A/N: Tension. Wanting. Needing. And not being able to do anything about it until you’re desperate and lose control. Emotional and loving though.

“Morning, baby.”

You stirred from your sleep as you felt Jessie’s weight partially on top of you and her lips on your cheek.

“Good morning,” you mumbled as you awoke. You blinked, seeing her face framed by the rays of light flowing in from the hotel window.

“Time to get up,” she told you gently as she continued to lay soft kisses along your face. “Elysse is just finishing getting ready.”

You nodded, closing your eyes once more as you wrapped your arms around Jessie. She was fully clothed and ready for the day. It was her off season and you were on vacation with her parents and sister. They were lovely people, however sharing a room with her sister had its drawbacks.

“I was just having a good dream, too,” you told her as you squeezed her to you. You moaned quietly as she kissed along your jaw.

“Tell me,” she urged, now intrigued, as her hand settled on your hip and her thumb snuck under your sleep shirt to idly caress your waist.

The scenes from your dream immediately flooded your mind. As they did, a lazy smile crossed your face as you pulled Jessie into a kiss and grasped her hand, intertwining your fingers before slipping her hand into your shorts and underwear.

You grinned as Jessie’s body tensed over you and she let out a low gasp, her breath hot on your face.

“Jesus, babe,” she whispered. She shifted over you, her fingers slipping easily through your slick folds. “You’re so wet.”

“Hint enough?” You teased as you rocked your hips up into her. She let out another small grunt.

"Not at all. I want to know more now," she said as she continued to stroke you. Her fingers settled on your clit and began to rub small circles, drawing a light gasp out of you.

"Baby," you whispered as you tilted your head into her, your lips brushing against her skin. "We shouldn't - your sister's going to be out soon."

"You started this," Jessie replied, a smirk in her voice as she moved her hand down and dipped a finger inside of you, then two. Your head fell back into the pillows as she kissed your neck slowly, but greedily. "Tell me more, baby."

“I-”

Your words died in your throat and you both stilled as you heard her sister finishing up. Jessie growled into your neck.

“Mm. Sharing a room sucks,” she grumbled, slowly pulling out of you. She exhaled heavily as she sat back, cheeks rosy already as she looked down at you. She gave you an affectionate shake of her head.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the bathroom door hadn't opened. Turning back, she locked eyes with you and slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking you off of them, steadily holding your gaze as she did so. Your mouth fell agape and your center pulsed at the sight.

She gave you a wink. "Tell me more later?" You bit your lip.

"I promise."

-----------

The group of you were walking through an exhibit at the local natural history museum. Jessie was in her element, taking keen interest in numerous displays, thoroughly reading descriptions and reciting facts for you as you wandered through.

You were interested, sure. But frankly, you were distracted. You couldn't get this morning off of your mind. You did your best to be engaged, but it was hard to focus when Jessie gestured with her hands and all you could think about is how good it would feel to have those fingers inside of you instead.

When you found yourself checking out a separate display from the Flemings you couldn't help yourself. You opened your messages with Jessie.

"You and I were at a private beach. Your skin was sun-kissed and freckled and you were laying back on a day bed. I was straddling you. You looked and felt so good under me, I'd soaked through the bottoms of my bikini as I ground myself onto you. You must've had a strap on - or, who knows - because even though your hands were gripping my hips, you were suddenly pressing up into me through our swimsuits. I was begging you to fill me. You pulled my bikini aside - it felt so fucking amazing when you sunk into me - so hard and thick, my legs shaking as you started to pump into me."

You glanced over at Jessie with her family, taking a quick breath before sending it.

You rejoined them and watched Jessie carefully out of the corner of your eye. She was chatting with her mom when she opened the message. You watched as her voice faltered mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on the screen. It took her a second, her mom inquiring, before she snapped to attention and tucked her phone away with a quick laugh and a tight smile. Her face was red.

You were still watching her when she fell behind the group and locked eyes with you. Giving you what someone else might have interpreted as a glare. You gave her an easy smile.

You were leaving the museum when you got a text from her.

"Baby girl. WTF. I want to be mad, but the way I'm pulsing for you right now is distracting me. God, I wish I was inside of you right now. I'm still thinking about the way you felt around my fingers this morning. You were so wet and tight. You feel amazing. Wish I could've had you cumming on my fingers, into my hand and making a mess of those sheets."

At lunch, you returned from the bathroom, taking your seat across from her and catching the lingering look she gave you. She must've gotten your text.

"My panties are soaked, babe. You fucking me in my dream, your thick fingers inside of me this morning, your text. God. I need you so badly. I need you stretching me tight around you - your fingers, your cock - I love them both. I just need you inside of me where you belong. I'm so wet and ready for you."

You conversed happily with her family over the meal, biting back a smirk at how you could feel Jessie's eyes boring into you between discussions. Her stern expression breaking into a friendly smile as soon as someone turned to her.

You were all walking through a city park after, Jessie lagging slightly behind when your phone vibrated.

"It's like you want me to pin you to the wall of the nearest bathroom stall and take you. God, what are you doing to me? I feel like I can't even walk properly because of how hot I am for you right now. I can't even stand near you because I want my hands and my mouth all over you. Sitting there charming my family while you have me absolutely throbbing for you and driving me feral."

The day went on like that. Teasing, wanting, and hungry texts flying back and forth between you with increasing frequency and intensity. Longing, lustful but mostly fleeting glances between you two as you both played your parts to act normal and unbothered around her family. Your face felt flush even though she hadn't laid a finger on you.

"I'd be moaning your name. Cum dripping down my thigh and onto your pants while you fuck me. I swear I can feel your hands on me. I know your touch so well. Your hands, your mouth, your everything. God, I need you."

"Baby. What I wouldn't give to be knuckle deep inside of you. I can imagine how easily I'd slip inside, your slick pussy pulling me in and gripping me. I'd love your cum staining my pants - let everyone know how much I turned you on. Babe. I'm so wet for you right now."

"Oh my God. I can't concentrate. All I can think about is having you deep inside of me. Your body on top of me. Me begging you to make me yours again and again."

"Fuck, babe. You know what that does to me. I love making you mine. Reminding you of who you belong to. You whimpering and moaning beneath me, so needy for me. I wanna wear your scratches down my back."

Finally, you found yourselves back near the hotel after a late dinner. You had one more stop for the day, but Jessie had other plans.

“Hey, my head is pounding. I’m getting a migraine. I think I’m just going to call it for tonight. Get some rest,” she said.

After some quick notes of concern from her parents and a generous, selfless offer from you to take her back, Jessie and you were leaving together. That’s when Elysse piped up.

“I’ll come too,” she said, already walking towards you. “I’m beat.”

You felt Jessie physically tense up next to you and saw the way her jaw clenched, but you both obviously had to play along.

Back at the hotel, you and Jessie got ready for bed and climbed in. You almost would’ve believed Jessie wasn’t feeling well with how quiet she was and the frown she wore. Elysse announced she was showering and retreated to the bathroom.

A heavy sigh came from Jessie the moment her sister locked the door.

“Well that backfired,” she muttered in frustration.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you said as you laid next to her and ran your hand up and down her thigh.

“Mm,” Jessie voiced, discerning eyes flitting over to you. “The way your hand is moving I don’t think you’re very sorry.”

“It’s hard to be next to you and not touch you, especially after today,” you said in a hushed tone, turning onto your side, lifting a leg to rest over hers and kissing her neck. “I mean, when I start my morning with your fingers inside of me, how can I not want more?”

She puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled and looked up at the ceiling.

“God, you’re not making this easy,” Jessie said, her gaze dropping back down to you.

“You make that seem like a bad thing,” you teased as your hand played with the waist of her shorts.

“Fuck, babe,” she said, hips already lifting off the mattress in search of relief. She closed her eyes momentarily before gently cupping your face. “You’ve had me aching for you all day. I cleaned up before I got into bed but I’m soaked all over again because I can’t stop thinking about being inside of you.”

Your mouth fell open in want as she rocked her hips up into you again before shifting and rolling you onto your back, all while looking deep in your eyes.

“God I want you so bad,” she said, her voice almost weak as she rolled her forehead against yours and ground her hips into you. "I’ve been picturing fucking you on nearly every surface we’ve seen today. You have no idea how desperate I’ve been for you all day."

"So do something about it," you urged teasingly as you kissed her and ground your hips up into hers. She moaned low into your kiss.

"You have to be quiet. I'm serious."

“I’ll be quiet,” you said quickly.

“Baby girl, I know you’re anything but quiet when my fingers are deep inside of you,” she whispered.

You bit the inside of your cheek - hard - smothering a moan in your throat. “I’ll be quiet tonight. I promise.”

“I should be able to control myself more,” she said softly and kissing you. “I don’t know how you do this to me.” She rocked her hips into you and her hand held the back of your head, fingers digging in slightly.

“Don’t you want to feel me come undone around your fingers?” You leaned in and whispered in her ear. “You can’t tease me all day and leave me like this, aching for you and unsatisfied.” You spied a look. She was crumbling. “I thought I was yours, baby.”

She grit her teeth together, hips subtly grinding against you. “You are mine,” she ground out.

“Then show me,” you pleaded softly. “You said you’d take care of me.”

She growled deep in her throat, but it didn’t hold an ounce of anger. You knew it well. Her fingers found the band of your shorts tugging them down roughly and discarding them before running two firm fingers along your slit, the outside of your panties slick with your arousal.

“Fuck, baby,” she ground out again as her hips pushed her hand harder against your core. “You’re so fucking wet. God, I’m so weak for you. I’d do anything you want me to.”

“Take care of you,” she growled again as she pushed your legs further apart with her own and breathed heavily into your neck. “Of course I will. Anything for you.” You ground your hips up into her fingers as she continued to stroke your swollen lips through your underwear. She spoke softly. “My pretty girl. You’re mine. I’ll always take care of you.”

She pushed your underwear aside and sunk inside of you as she finished speaking. Both her mouth and yours fell agape at the sensation. You stifled a moan, and she pressed her lips to your cheek to lull you.

“I know, baby. I know,” she cooed as she curled her fingers inside of you. She then rest her forehead against yours and you wrapped your arms tightly around her shoulders, desperately so. “It feels good for me too.”

She drew her fingers back and pushed them back inside again, the motion effortless with how wet you were.

“God, I could cum right now with how you feel around me,” she whispered in awe. “You have no idea how incredible you are.”

Another moan threatened to escape you, and she muffled it with a kiss. She continued to pump in and out of you, slow, but purposeful. You broke off the kiss and leaned into her ear.

“How do you expect me to be quiet when you fuck me as good as you do,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at your lips as you felt her body shiver.

“Need to make sure my baby is satisfied.”

“I’m always satisfied with you.”

“You weren’t a moment ago.”

“That’s true. That’s your fault for getting me so worked up to begin with. And you’re the only one who can fix it.”

Jessie grunted lightly into the kiss. “That’s right. Only me.”

“Forever,” you told her. Her back arched into you at the response and her breathing quickened.

“Gonna make you my wife,” she declared into your kiss as she stroked your cheek while she continued her deep, slow thrusts.

You released a moan into her mouth and she tightened her grip on you, causing you to dig your fingers into her back.

“I’ll take your name.”

“Please. I want everyone to know you chose me,” she said. “You’ll wear my ring.”

“Always.”

Jessie grunted softly over you as she gently rocked you into the mattress with each stroke. She kept kissing you deeply.

“I want to give you everything,” she proclaimed as she continued to her curl her fingers inside of you and her thumb circled your clit.

Another moan was escaping you as the shower turned off. You both stilled, eyes locking on each other, her fingers still sheathed by your fluttering pussy.

The stillness only lasted a few seconds before her thumb started to rub your clit again and you tightened around her fingers.

“I can’t stop fucking you,” she said, voice low. “You feel too good.”

You pushed your head back into the pillows as she began pumping in and out of you again, somehow feeling even deeper this time.

“Need to feel you cumming on my fingers." She arched into you again, her voice breathy in your ear. “I can’t sleep if I know I didn’t give you what you want and need.”

Your wet sounds, though muffled by the blankets, still filled her head.

"Hear how much you missed me, baby? I can feel you dripping onto the sheets, my love. Wish my head was between your legs, tasting you. I want you in every way. I'd make love to you all night," she told you as she rocked you both gently, but firmly into the mattress once more.

You adored when she was like this. She was so reserved and not a naturally flirty person, so to hear the words pouring out of her mouth all day and night just for you, combined with the way she was moving in you and over you, sent you to your peak. Your jaw fell open repeatedly as you were tempted to cry out. It came out a strangled whimper that she sealed with her lips in a hard kiss. Your core tightened and your gripped her desperately as she held you close.

Your body had just started to relax and she was tenderly kissing your neck when the bathroom door unlocked. Jessie was off of you in a flash and swiftly settled next to you. You took a few deep, quiet breaths and a few seconds later the door swung open.

"Oh, you two are still up," Elysse commented lightly as she came around to her bed. She glanced at you and a light frown crossed her face. "Are you getting sick? You look really flushed. Do you want the AC on tonight?'

You ignored how Jessie's fingers sunk into your hip.

"I'm okay, thanks," you told her, your voice initially hoarse and dry, much to your chagrin.

"Alright, well you just let me know. Happy to turn it on."

----------

The next morning Jessie and Elysse were talking in the room as you got ready in the bathroom.

"You're feeling better?" Elysse asked.

"Yeah, much better. Thank you," Jessie replied, offering her sister a smile. Her smile faltered as her sister's look of concern switched to a teasing smirk.

"I'll bet. Sorry to crash your party last night. If you wanted privacy, you should've really just said so. I am happy to give you two your space so I don't have to hear that again."

[bangchansdirty-slut]

"We've only just begun."

Paring: Top GP!Yunjin x Maid Bottom!Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Yunjin just had one of the best room services of her life.

More: Masterlist

A/n: Bro Yunjin's solo part during MAMA 2023 makes me feel thingz, anywayz requests are opened.

Yunjin had been looking forward to her vacation at the luxurious hotel by the beach. It was a place where she often came with her family to create memories and escape from the hectic life of being in the spotlight. As she stepped out of the car, a warm breeze caressed her face, carrying the sweet scent of the ocean. She glanced around, taking in the breathtaking view of the crystal clear water and the white sandy beach, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

After checking in and dropping off her luggage, Yunjin made her way to her hotel room. As she unlocked the door, she was met with the familiar scent of their family's favorite perfume. It was a comforting aroma that instantly made her feel at home. She walked over to the balcony, opening the doors to let in the fresh sea air, and gazed out at the ocean once again.

The next morning, Yunjin woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. She stretched lazily, enjoying the warmth of the sun against her skin. As she lay there, she heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was probably just the maid, she called out, "Just a moment!" and rolled out of bed. She slipped on one of her comfiest dresses and went to answer the door. To her surprise, standing on the other side was the hotel's maid service, who seemed to be looking for her.

"Oh, hello!" Yunjin said, opening the door wider. "I'm Yunjin. How can I help you?"

The maid, a young woman with shy eyes and a name tag that read "Y/n", hesitantly stepped forward. "Um, I-I'm here to clean your room, miss. I just… I wanted to make sure you were awake." Her voice was soft and sweet, with a hint of nervousness.

Yunjin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, okay. Well, I just woke up, so I'll give you a few minutes to finish getting ready." She gestured for the maid to enter the room. As Y/n walked past her, Yunjin couldn't help but notice that she was wearing the shortest maid outfit she had ever seen. The top barely covered her chest, revealing her perky breasts and a hint of her black lace bra, while the short skirt barely covered her hips, leaving her panties on full display. She had never seen anyone wear such revealing clothing in public before.

Intrigued, Yunjin decided to explore the room while Y/n cleaned. As she walked around, she noticed that the maid seemed to be taking extra care with her bed, fluffing the pillows and straightening the sheets. Suddenly, she felt a strange sensation between her legs. It was almost as if she was aroused. She couldn't believe it; she had never experienced anything like this before.

Curious, she followed Y/n into the bathroom. The maid was busying herself with the towels, her back turned to Yunjin. Yunjin hesitantly approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Um, Y/n?" she said softly. The maid jumped slightly at her touch and turned around, her face flushed.

"Oh, hello miss Yunjin. Did you need something?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Yunjin couldn't help but stare into Y/n's big, expressive eyes. They were so innocent and beautiful.

"No, no, it's nothing important. I just… I felt something strange in my chest. It's nothing serious, I'm sure. Maybe I'm just nervous about being in a new place," she lied, hoping that Y/n wouldn't notice her heart racing.

Y/n nodded, looking relieved. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay here. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask." She offered a small, shy smile before turning back to her work.

Yunjin couldn't help but feel drawn to Y/n. There was something about her innocence and vulnerability that made Yunjin want to protect her. As she watched Y/n work, she found herself growing more and more aroused. She felt guilty for having these thoughts about someone who was only doing her job, but she couldn't deny the intense desire welling up inside her.

Finally, Y/n finished cleaning the room and turned to face Yunjin. "Well, I'm all done miss Yunjin. If you need anything else, just give me a shout." She bowed her head respectfully, her hair falling over her shoulders.

Yunjin cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "Um, Y/n? There is something I wanted to ask you." She hesitated, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. "How did you know to wear such a… revealing uniform?" She couldn't believe she had just said that out loud.

Y/n's face flushed even deeper, and she lowered her eyes. "I-I'm sorry, miss Yunjin. I shouldn't have worn it. It's just… the manager said it would be more… 'entertaining' for the guests." She bit her lip, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No, no, it's not your fault. I just… I'm not used to seeing something like that. It's quite… alluring," Yunjin admitted, feeling her heart race as she spoke. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with the maid.

Y/n's eyes widened at her words, and she took a step closer, her chest heaving slightly. "A-alluring?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "R-really?"

Yunjin nodded, unable to take her eyes off of the maid. "Yes, really. You're very… attractive." She swallowed hard, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. "I've never seen anyone quite like you before."

Y/n's face lit up at her words, and she took another step closer, her chest brushing against Yunjin's arm. "T-thank you, miss Yunjin. You're very kind." She bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between Yunjin's face and her chest. "I-I'm sorry if my uniform is making you uncomfortable."

Yunjin felt a shiver run down her spine at the maid's closeness. "No, it's not that. It's just… I've never felt this way before. You're so beautiful, and your uniform… it's very alluring." She reached out and gently traced the collarbone visible beneath Y/n's thin blouse. "I want to see more of you."

Y/n let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into Yunjin's touch. "M-more of me?" she whispered. "You want to see me… undress?" She bit her lower lip nervously, her breath coming faster.

Yunjin nodded, her heart racing in anticipation. "Yes, please. I want to see everything you've got." She reached out, slowly untying the sash that held Y/n's hair in place, letting it tumble down around her shoulders in a curtain of red. The maid shivered slightly at the contact, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she drew in deep, shaky breaths.

As Y/n began to unbutton her blouse, Yunjin's eyes traced the line of her collarbone, then down to the lacy black bra that Y/n wore beneath. She couldn't help but marvel at the maid's perfect figure, wishing she could touch and taste every inch of her skin.

"Take off your blouse, Y/n," Yunjin whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. The maid hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling as they fumbled with the last button, before slowly pushing it free. Her blouse fell to the floor in a silken pool at her feet, revealing her bra and the supple curves of her breasts.

Yunjin's gaze was riveted to the sight before her, and she couldn't help but reach out to touch them. Her fingers brushed against the soft, warm skin of Y/n's breasts, causing the maid to shiver and moan softly. "Oh, miss Yunjin…" she breathed, her hips moving involuntarily against Yunjin's touch.

Y/n's bra followed her blouse to the floor, revealing her perfect, bare breasts to Yunjin's hungry gaze. They were even more beautiful than she had imagined, with stiff nipples that hardened even more at the touch of Yunjin's fingers. The maid arched her back, pressing her breasts against Yunjin's hands, and let out a soft, pleading moan.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n," Yunjin whispered, her words thick with desire. "I want to see everything." She moved her hands down, tracing the line of Y/n's ribs and over her flat stomach. The maid shivered violently at the touch, her hips bucking forward as she tried to draw closer to Yunjin.

As Yunjin's fingers brushed against the cloth of her skirt, Y/n's breath hitched in her throat. "O-okay, miss Yunjin," she managed to choke out, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. She reached down and slowly began to untie the sash that held her skirt in place.

The moment Y/n's skirt fell to the floor, revealing her black panties and the smooth, toned legs beneath, Yunjin felt a wave of heat wash over her. She reached out and cupped Y/n's breast, squeezing gently as she drew the maid closer. Y/n moaned, arching her back as she pressed herself against Yunjin's touch.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n," Yunjin breathed, her fingers tracing over the soft, warm skin of Y/n's stomach. "So perfect." She moved her hands lower, sliding them between them, feeling the soft, warm flesh of Y/n's thighs. The maid let out a shuddering breath, her hips moving restlessly against Yunjin's touch.

As Yunjin's fingers brushed against the fabric of Y/n's panties, the maid let out a soft moan, her head falling back against Yunjin's shoulder. "M-more, miss Yunjin," she whispered, her body trembling with need. Yunjin smiled, her heart racing as she pulled Y/n's panties aside, baring her to the touch. The maid's wetness glistened in the candlelight, and Yunjin could feel the heat emanating from her core.

With a shaking hand, she reached out and touched Y/n's clit, circling it gently at first, then with increasing pressure as the maid arched her back, moaning loudly. Y/n's hips bucked wildly, her fingers digging into the sheets as her orgasm built, and then Yunjin removed her hand from Y/n's clit, sliding her cock inside Y/n, "Oh my god! I-I never felt a girl's c-cock b-before 's good"Y/n moans.

Yunjin felt the tightness of Y/n's entrance as she thrust deeper, her hips meeting the maid's in a rhythmic dance. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, and Y/n's moans and gasps filled the air. She moved with a frenzied urgency, lost in the sensation of being inside Y/n, of feeling her body move in perfect harmony with hers.

As they continued to fuck, their breathing grew ragged and their skin glistened with sweat. Yunjin reached down and pinched Y/n's hard nipples, eliciting another moan from the maid. She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against Y/n's, and bit down gently on her neck, drawing a thin line of blood. The taste of it sent a shiver through her, intensifying the pleasure coursing through her body.

Y/n arched her back, her fingernails digging into the sheets as she felt the sensation of being filled by Yunjin. Her hips bucked wildly, meeting each thrust, her orgasm building with every passing moment. "I'm close," she gasped, her voice strained. "I'm close, miss Yunjin."

Yunjin's breath came in ragged gasps as she felt the tightness of Y/n's body begin to give way. With a final, brutal thrust, she let out a long, shuddering moan, and says"Me too Y/n. I can't wait to feel you up to the brim with my load and watch it pour out of you."

Her words sent a shockwave through Y/n, pushing her over the edge. Her body arched violently as her orgasm crashed over her, her scream echoing through the room. "Yesss!" she cried, her fists clenched in the sheets as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Yunjin felt the tightness of Y/n's channel finally give way, allowing her to thrust deeper, her hips slamming into Y/n's body as she emptied herself inside of her. Her orgasm was intense, shuddering through her body as she let out a long, satisfied moan. She collapsed on top of Y/n, their sweat-slicked skin sticking together, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of their labored breathing, interspersed with the occasional soft moan. Then, as Yunjin's breathing began to steady, she reached down between their bodies and gently stroked Y/n's soft, spent clit, eliciting a gasp from the maid.

"Is that… is that it?" Y/n whispered, her voice still shaky from her orgasm. Yunjin smiled and kissed her, tasting the saltiness of their sweat on her lips. "Oh, no baby," she said, her fingers still moving in a teasing circle around Y/n's sensitive nub.

"We've only just begun."

[bellasfortuna]

butcher!simon has been on the brain so have a small brainworm i've been sitting on

TW: implied dark thoughts, implied kidnapping, creepy Ghost and leering Johnny, slightly NSFW

When the door to the butcher shop opened, the first thing she noticed was the lack of a chime or bell; instead there was only dead silence and the smell of coppery tang and cleaning solution. The shop wasn't completely silent, there was a small table, only two men, in the very corner of the shop, barely visible from the window outside, crammed in the corner. Their bodies seemed almost too large for the shitty metal chairs they were hunched in, talking amongst themselves.

What drew her eye next was the incredibly large and hulking form of the butcher behind the counter; the man was mammoth sized, blood stained apron around his middle, shirt slightly stained (what was the point of wearing the apron at all if he wasn't going to wear it completely?, she thought absently), sleeves rolling up his biceps unwillingly from the stretch of the muscles and veins there. As she drew closer to the counter, to the hulk of a man, could she even call him a man? his face was covered by a surgical mask and his hair was shaggy and unevenly cut like he'd shorn it himself, dirty blond and messy, a scar peeking out from the corner of the mask to his cheekbone, his form seemed even larger, more imposing.

But what caught his attention, no visual indication or warning, was how utterly uncaring she seemed, having just walked into a butcher shop in a rather seedy part of town, that was well known for how unfriendly the butcher was. Simon had seen the reviews (not that he cared, wasn't his business if whatever tosser passing through thought his service was shite and his shop wasn't friendly, his regularly knew his product was good and his cuts were prime), reviews that should scare off birds that looked like her, that wandered around looking too fragile and soft.

She seemed more interested in looking through the glass case, perusing the cuts he had on display, and for now, Simon was content to just leave her be, she wasn't loud or obnoxious (unlike Johnny in the corner who'd parked his ass there with Garrick for the better half of the morning), and she'd yet to ask any inane questions that would require Simon to have to speak. Just as she looked up, eyes connecting with his, her soft brown eyes colliding with his darker irises, the door to the shop opened again, more forcefully, her mouth shutting and stalling whatever question she'd been about to ask.

If Simon hadn't felt mildly annoyed before, he was certainly annoyed now; he wanted to know just how ignorant the bird was, but his annoyance flared into something darker when the newcomer opened his mouth. While Simon stayed silent as the two argued, he gleaned some information from the brusque conversation. The girl wasn't from here, at least her accent was foreign, as was his, so Simon surmised they were either visiting or had just moved nearby. He hoped it was the former concerning the scrawny shit that was now standing in his shop.

The boy made some comment about how she shouldn't be here alone, he had offered to come with her, yet, she brushed him off easily and said she was more than capable of coming to a butcher by herself and getting what they needed for 'the get-together', as she called it, turning back to look at the counter, saying she had been to more than enough butchers to know what cuts she needed, she hardly needed a second, lesser informed, shadow. Simon doubted this but he found it amusing to hear.

Simon watched with disinterest, the annoyance at the squabble going on before him still festering, but standing with his arms crossed over his chest, muscles tight, hoping they'd be done quicker and his shop would return to peace. For such a soft looking thing, she apparently had a backbone, though Simon would have been far more rude and unwelcoming, if someone hadn't listened to him; he didn't care much when the boy made a comment about his shop being unsafe, how these parts had unsavory people, he wasn't entirely wrong but the world wasn't kind to weak people who avoided all conflict. The boy looked like he'd snap in half if Simon leered at him too hard.

What did catch Simon's interest, was the quickness of her hand shooting up and smacking the boy upside the head, the sound cracking through the butcher shop. "Were you raised in a damn barn?" she barked, face unamused as she glared at the boy. "You don't say shit like that." While the boy looked rather nonplussed and incensed, Simon was definitely very interested now, eyeing her delicate small hand, the sound it had made connecting with his head, the wince it had caused.

He wondered how it'd feel against his face, his cheek, if he could fuck away the anger in her face afterwards, his hands pinning her delicate wrists above her head as he sank into her plush body. She didn't seem to notice his darker gaze as the boy left and she made her order in peace, her voice soft again and cordial. She did at least know what she asked for, not using generic shopping terms,so Simon assumed she was being truthful earlier, and that made something writhe inside him. She'd known what she wanted and she had come to his shop. She didn't notice when he gave her a nicer cut of the deli meats and trimmings she'd requested, a little more than she'd asked and paid for, taking the paper wrapped package with a small smile.

She definitely didn't notice when, as she left the butcher shop, package in her tote bag, Simon nodded his head at Johnny before sharply inclining his head towards the door, the shaggy mowhawked man following behind her obediently. Afterall, a butcher needs the best and what better way than sending his dog.