#women's only ride sharing

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[muirneach]

btw. toronto is fucking HYPE for rogers cup. we love tennis! and they are running an ad campaign on the subways featuring exactly five players for some reason. it is so lovely commuting to work or whatever and seeing my girls along the way

[punkshort]

The Farmer's Daughter

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader one-shot

Summary: Forced to sell your body after your father's farm went under, you find yourself hand picked to service the Roman army on their latest battle away from Rome. What you didn't expect was to be selected to share General Acacius's room for the duration of the journey.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), heavy talks of prostitution, mentions of SA but none occur, reader is a (new) prostitute, virginity loss (no blood mentioned just some discomfort), descriptions of battle wounds/blood, food and alcohol consumption, one bed trope, enemies to lovers-ish, unprotected piv sex, thigh riding, angst, possessiveness

WC: 10.2K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I know by this point his character is mostly referred to as Acacius in the film but I'm sorry, I can't wrap my head around someone moaning that name in bed. So let's just ignore that, okay?

How did this happen? Why did fate play you such a cruel and twisted hand?

When you were younger, you expected to be married off to be a housewife to a solider. From what you heard growing up, it wasn't a terrible life. The men were gone most of the time which allowed the women to run the household and raise children in peace. Unfortunately, your mother died during childbirth and your father, a humble farmer, passed away too early in life, leaving you and his few workers to keep the farm operating for as long as possible. To make money, you spent much of your time at the market, selling the food you made on the farm and the goods you weaved and molded from the scraps.

It wasn't enough. You lost the farm after a handful of years and you were on the brink of becoming destitute. Already you were malnourished and dehydrated, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't find work.

That was how you found yourself in a long line of women, standing silently with your heads bowed and your hands clasped as you were all throughly inspected by a senior officer of the Roman army. They were choosing their group of whores to hire to accompany the men on their next battle across the sea. You were left with no other option but to sell your only remaining asset. The thought turned your stomach, but the idea of starving to death was worse.

One by one, women were hand picked to step forward and exit the room. All in all it had to have been close to forty whores hired to service an entire army.

The odds were not in your favor if you were picked.

It came as a relief when you ended up not getting chosen. You breathed a deep sigh and lifted your chin, scanning the room of remaining women and senior ranking soldiers. You would make do somehow. At least you wouldn't be spreading your legs multiple times a night for different men after they've spent the day fighting and working up their appetite.

You turned to follow the women back out onto the streets of Rome, no doubt searching for another way to sell their bodies, when you heard a deep, familiar voice call your name. You froze in disbelief, wondering who could possibly know you, and then you slowly turned.

It was General Acacius. The fearless leader of the Roman army, but you knew him from your stand in the market. Whenever he was home from battle, he always found you and purchased more than he could possibly need, feeding you and your farmhands for weeks. He never said much and neither did you, but you had grown fond of seeing his greying curls and dark, smoldering eyes approach your stall, albeit with a new wound or scar to show for his travels.

You did not even realize he knew your name.

His eyes drifted up and down your worn tunic, noticing the stains and rips and your poor fitting sandals. Your gaze flickered nervously around the room at the other men impatiently looking to wrap up their work and begin their long journey, but remained silent, deferring to the general.

"You will come with us," was all he said, his voice booming in the small room. Your blood ran cold and panic seized your throat.

"But the choices have already been made-"

"I am paying. I believe I am allowed to decide how many whores we bring along."

You clamped your mouth shut, brows furrowing in anger. How foolish you were to assume he was a man of honor, a man who wanted to help you when he bought your meager wares in the market. As it turned out, he was no better than any other, only out to seek pleasure between your legs.

At that point, you knew better than to argue. Your fate was sealed. Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to follow after the other chosen women, walking past the high ranking officials who sized you up as you went.

The army was to travel by ship. Or multiple ships, to be exact. The women were counted off and told to stand in smaller groups, one handful of whores for each ship of hungry soldiers. When your group was assigned, you heard that familiar powerful voice come out of nowhere once again, stopping everybody in their paths.

"She is to travel on mine," General Acacius announced. A few men exchanged confused glances and Acacius grew irritated. "That one," he clarified, pointing directly at you. The other men quickly nodded and shuffled you into another group, and you thought that would be the end of it, but then he spoke again as the others began to board.

"She will stay in my chambers."

If the soldiers were surprised, they hid it well, but you didn't. You whipped around and glared at him defiantly, a litany of disrespectful curses on the tip of your tongue. Thankfully, you remembered your place and who you were speaking to and caught yourself before you got killed, but as you turned to board the ship, you noticed an amused smirk play across the general's lips.

A young solider shoved you into the general's quarters, ordering you to not go through his things or they would cut off your hands, then slammed the door shut, leaving you all alone. The rest of the women had gone below deck, most likely to a shared room that was filthy and freezing cold. You, on the other hand, had a beautiful soft bed and a roaring fire to warm yourself by a small wooden dining table. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner and your fingers itched to pull the books out and examine them, but you didn't dare. Instead, you sat on the small cushioned bench next to the only porthole in the room, tucking your knees against your chest protectively while you waited for the inevitable.

Sleep took hold of you at some point while you waited for the general to retire. The last thing you remembered was the open sea and the glorious golden sun beginning to dip just below the horizon. When you awoke, it was dark, the only light in the room coming from the fire. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and unfurled yourself from your bench to look around, then nearly yelped when you found the general quietly sitting at the table pouring himself wine.

Your heart raced violently in your chest, knowing full well what he expected of you. And despite offering yourself up earlier that day as a whore, you had decided you would not do it for this man. Because this man came to your booth in the market under the guise of kindness that turned out to be a lie, and it simply did not sit right with you.

"I will not lie with you willingly," you announced boldly with your arms crossed. The general quirked an eyebrow and took a long sip of his wine.

"When was the last time you have eaten?"

You scowled, body vibrating with energy and ready for a fight only to be met with indifference.

"I am not hungry."

"You will eat or you will die," he said, avoiding your eye and standing to collect a plate of food by the door. He dropped it onto the table and pointed angrily at it. "Eat."

"Why?"

"You need your strength, you are frail."

"You do not like your whores thin, then?" you shot back. Acacius clenched his jaw, eyes still cast down. "You wish to fatten me up so you have something to hold onto when you force my legs apart?"

"That is enough!" he roared, fiery eyes finally finding yours and pinning you with an intense stare that had you trembling. "I will not be forcing you to do anything except eat. Now sit down, do not test my patience."

It was a combination of fear and hunger that made you obey, sinking down into the chair opposite his where the plate of lukewarm food awaited you. Acacius sat down and picked up his goblet, watching you from over the rim as you slowly began to pick at the food. You both remained silent while you ate and he drank, the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the fire and the distant laughter and yells from his men in the galley below.

He was right. You hadn't eaten in days. It was no wonder you fell asleep so quickly earlier. You wanted to express your thanks, but you were too stubborn. Instead, you finished your food and put the plate in the basin of water by the door before looking around the room once again. It was easily the nicest room on the ship. You had to imagine most of the soldiers would be sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of one another down below, but the general had the biggest, softest looking bed you had ever seen in your life.

But there was only one.

He watched you from his place at the table, studying your face as you worked out the mechanics.

"I will not force myself upon you if we share the bed," he said, dragging your attention back to him. He was still in his armor, all shiny and clean from the public celebration that took place prior to the army's departure.

"Why am I here, if not to pleasure you?" you asked. You sounded calmer than before but you were still very much on edge.

"You believe I would find pleasure in forcing myself upon a woman?" he questioned before draining his cup. You thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Perhaps. Yes."

He stared down at his empty chalice, your heinous opinion of him rolling around in his head and making his chest ache.

"Well, I do not," he proclaimed, standing up quickly and causing his chair to almost topple backwards. He began to unhook his heavy armor, dropping it into a pile on the floor until he was down to his tunic.

"If we were to lie together, it would be because you wish it so," he said softly with his back to you. You swallowed thickly.

"What am I to do here, then?" you asked as he began to turn down his sheets. He slid his tired body into bed and sighed.

"Whatever you like. So long as you stay in this room, you will remain unharmed."

You blinked rapidly, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

"That is all?"

"Yes. That is all. My only wish is you are safe and fed."

You couldn't help it. You had to ask.

"But... why?"

But the general rolled onto his side, effectively ending your conversation and leaving you wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

That first night, you did not share his bed. You slept on the bench by your porthole, curled up small, arms wrapped around yourself protectively until the sun rose. When you awoke, the general was gone, but a plate of food was left on the table for you.

The first week on the ship went exactly the same. You stayed in his chambers, staring out at the sea or sleeping until he returned way past dark with some food for you and a tired look in his eye. And every night, you slept on the bench, still far too distrusting of him.

The second week, the general brought a game with him at dinner time. Two cups and two wooden dice. The idea was you had to guess what you would roll. If you won, you got whatever you bet on the round. It wasn't that entertaining at first since you had only the clothes on your back and nothing else, but what you did have were stories or songs or a slight of hand trick your father taught you when you were young.

You wouldn't realize until much later that it was his way of getting to know you better.

"You released all the cows from the pasture?" Acacius repeated in disbelief. You giggled and nodded.

"I was only six years old! I thought they were being held against their will!"

Acacius laughed, the sound making you grin like a fool and your cheeks warm.

"Alright," he said once he got ahold of himself. "Go on."

You picked up the die and tossed them into a cup, giving it a firm shake and smiling when he shot you a playful wink.

You clapped the cup firmly over the table and before you raised it up, you announced, "One three and one five."

"What is your wager?"

You nodded towards his bookshelf. "One of your books."

He looked up at you in shock. "You can read?"

You gave him a fake look of disgust and nodded. "Of course I can read."

"And you have been here this whole time without picking up a book?"

"Your men told me they would cut off my hands if I touched what is yours."

His face softened and he sat back in his chair.

"No one will touch you," he told you firmly. You stared at one another, the heavy moment weighing between you, the implication of his words impossible to deny. No one will touch you because you are his.

To break the tension, you smirked and said, "So I suppose that means I do not need to wager the books?"

Acacius grinned and shook his head. "Too late, little one."

You rolled your eyes and lifted the cup, pouting when you saw two six's.

"Your turn," you said, pushing the cup to the side.

Acacius collected the dice and dumped them into the cup, shaking it while looking at you curiously from across the table and admiring the way the light from the fire flickered over your beautiful face.

"You can still take a book."

You perked up but shook your head. "That is against the rules of the game, General."

"I make the rules. Take a book tomorrow," he insisted before slamming the cup down. His large hand gripped the top of the cup, keeping it pressed tightly against the table.

"Your wager?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

He swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. The fear that you would pull away from him again fought against the insatiable attraction he had harbored for you for years. But the wine must have won the fight because he said, "One kiss."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and for a moment, he thought he made a horrible mistake. But then you squared your jaw and narrowed your eyes and said, "Go ahead."

He grinned, pulse thrumming excitedly in his throat when he said, "One one and one four."

But when he lifted the cup, his face fell. A three and a six.

"Ah, well," he said, shoulders drooping. He yawned and stood to collect the dice. "Better luck tomorrow."

Before you could stop yourself, you stood as well and leaned up to peck a chaste kiss against his scruffy cheek. He looked at you in surprise and you gave him a crooked grin.

"For the book."

He smiled and nodded, doing his best to hide his disappointment as you got yourself ready for bed. You had a small pillow and thin blanket to curl up with by the porthole, and it irked him that you wouldn't take more. He feared you would catch a sickness and your malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off an infection, but you were so stubborn that he couldn't convince you otherwise.

However, the third and final week at sea had you shivering on your bench. Acacius could hardly sleep knowing how cold you were. He could hear your teeth chattering from across the room.

"I beg of you, please sleep in my bed," he said one night as you began to make your little nest by the porthole. You shook your head.

"I am fine, I swear it."

"You are not fine. Please, I will not touch you, you have my word."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked over his shoulder at his warm, plush bed. He could see your resolve begin to falter, so he offered to sleep on the bench in your place.

"No, do not be ridiculous. You have an army to lead tomorrow, you cannot be tense as a knot because you slept on a too small bench."

"I will if it means you are safe and warm," he said softly, his vulnerability taking you off guard.

"General-" you sighed, but he cut you off.

"Please. I promise I will remain on my side of the bed. Just stop being so stubborn for once in your life."

You scoffed and propped your hands on your hips. "For once in my life? And what would you know of it?"

He squinted at you and crossed his arms. "I know more than you think. I know you would not quit until you broke in that filly when you were twelve years old. I know you nearly pushed a boy down a well when he tried to kiss you in front of the whole school. I know you argued with your teacher over the correct spelling of amaranth and I know you poured every last bit of yourself into a dying farm just to keep the memory of your father alive."

Your jaw hung open in surprise, taken aback by the way he stored all of the little snippets of your life you had given him over the past two weeks only to end it with his own observation of you at the market.

You could feel yourself growing weak for him, the temptation to give in too much to bear. He had been slowly wearing you down since you arrived and perhaps he was right, perhaps you were far too stubborn because the last thing you wanted to do was go back on the proclamation you made that very first night.

So, you chose to be defiant.

"Fine," you snapped, swiveling on your heel and stomping towards his bed. "If you wish to share your bed with a whore so badly, then so be it."

Acacius rounded the bed and slipped in beside you, making sure to leave plenty of space.

"You and I both know you are no whore."

"Oh, you know so very much about me, I forget."

You tugged the heavy blankets up to your chin and tried not to audibly sigh at how comfortable it was in his bed.

"If you are a whore, tell me then: how many men have you laid with?"

You clenched your jaw, angry that he was able to figure you out so easily. Instead of answering, you rolled onto your side, your back to him, and muttered, "good night."

Acacius grinned and closed his eyes, proud of himself for besting you.

"Good night."

The following morning, you awoke earlier than usual. When your eyelids fluttered open, the first thing you noticed was the ache in your bones was gone. The large, soft bed had been enough to cure you in just one night.

Not something you planned on admitting to the general, of course.

The second thing you noticed when you sat up in bed was that the ship was not moving. It was completely still, and you could hear loud, quick footsteps outside your door and above your head. Men were shouting to one another and the clink of swords and armor were echoing throughout the halls. Then, through the walls somewhere above you, you heard the general's deep, booming voice yelling orders to his men. You threw off the blankets and hurried to the porthole, your eyes widening when you saw land and small boats being lowered into the water.

You had arrived at whatever distant land the emperors demanded Acacius claim for Rome, and the soldiers were getting ready to depart for their first fight.

You chewed nervously on your nail, curled up against the wall and peering out the window for hours until the very last boat sailed away. In the distance, you could see the general's broad back covered in armor, his dark curls fluttering in the sea breeze and his massive sword tucked dutifully at his waist.

He had left for war and didn't even say goodbye.

Why would you care if he said goodbye? Maybe if they all die, you could escape to shore and be free, find a new city and make a home for yourself.

Even you had to admit that fantasy was foolish. No matter where you went, your fate would always be the same. You had no money, no prospects, no skills and no family. Your destiny was already written and it was a miracle your first attempt at prostitution landed you in the cushy quarters of Rome's surprisingly respectful general.

Your nerves kept your feet moving all day. You tidied up the general's desk, sorting his papers and maps. You scrubbed at the dishware until they sparkled and you made the bed, fluffing up the pillows and tucking in the loose edges until you had nothing left to do. The room was as neat as possible, not a single item out of place, and yet you still floundered around looking for something to occupy your busy mind.

When the sun began to dip and his room grew darker, you went around lighting candles to allow for more light. You were in the middle of lighting the last candle when you heard a timid knock at the door.

Nobody had ever come to his chambers the entire three weeks besides the general himself. You swallowed anxiously, wondering who it could be and if you should answer when you heard a woman's small voice from the other side of the door.

You decided it was safe and opened the door a crack to find one of the whores you had boarded the ship with waiting on the other side with buckets of water and a basin.

"For the general," she said softly. You nodded and dragged the buckets into the room, trying not to stare at the bruises and dirt littering her dry skin. Your stomach twisted with guilt after she left and you locked the door. The other women were living like cattle and you were living the life of luxury. Not only was the general not forcing you to fuck him, but you were giving him sass at every turn.

It was a harsh reminder of your fortune, of what your life could be like. The thought of living the life of the women below deck frightened you, so you had decided that evening when the general returned, you would give yourself to him to show your appreciation, as well as out of fear he would soon get rid of you if you didn't give him what he wanted.

You remained at your post, staring out at the dark sea until you could see the bobbing of lanterns making their way across the black expanse, letting you know the men were returning for the night. You rushed to warm up his water over the fire, dumping it into the large basin. You poured some scented oils into the bath just as the door unlocked and opened, revealing a very filthy and exhausted looking general holding two plates of food.

"Good evening," you said, standing obediently. Acacius paused at the door, confused by your formality before closing it with his heel and setting down the food at the table. "I have a warm bath ready for you, General," you added, pointing towards the basin. He nodded tiredly and began to work on the hooks of his armor. You rushed forward to help him, once again taking him by surprise until he was stripped down to his red tunic.

"Would you like to eat or bathe first?" you asked. The general sighed and looked longingly at the bath.

"I will clean myself while you eat," he said. He pointed towards the table and motioned for you to turn around.

"May I assist you instead, General?" you asked with your back turned. You could hear the shuffle of fabric falling to the wooden floor and then a sharp hiss when he sunk down into the warm water.

"Assist me with what? Cleansing myself? I believe I can manage," he chuckled. You turned around to stare at the back of his head, his body now submerged in the water and hidden from view, but you could still see his shoulders and arms. They looked bruised and bloodied.

He didn't notice your eyes on him, of course. He was busy scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin while he looked around the tidy room.

"It is very nice in here, you did not have to straighten up."

It was the least you could do and you knew it but said nothing.

Instead, you shakily lifted your worn tunic over your head and let it crumple to the floor. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you slowly approached him, the general completely unaware as he continued to scrub his skin.

"I can think of another way to assist you," you said nervously as you stepped into his eyeline. His chin tilted up and he did a double take when he saw your naked form standing before him. His cloth dropped into the water and his jaw fell open in surprise, eyes wide and greedily raking over your body.

"Wh- what is this?" he stammered, gaze glued to your chest. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides under his scrutiny.

"I thought I would show you my appreciation for your hospitality," you explained. "I would like to repay you in some way for choosing me to share your quarters."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he eagerly reached forward, then stopped when he registered your words. He looked up at you questioningly, excitement falling from his face when he asked, "What do you mean, repay me?"

You shrugged and took a hesitant step forward, close enough now so he could reach out and touch your cunt if he chose.

"I realized today my fate could have been much harsher," you explained. "I have not been showing you my appreciation and respect, and in return, I wish to give you my body to use as you see fit."

Acacius frowned and turned his head away, searching for the cloth so he could continue cleaning himself.

"I do not want your body as payment, I believe I told you that weeks ago."

"You said we would not lie together unless I wished it so," you protested. "I now wish it."

"You wish to lay with me out of obligation, not desire. That is not something I want."

Embarrassment and confusion flooded your mind as you slowly stretched your arms across your exposed body, trying to hide yourself out of shame.

"I apologize-"

"Get yourself decent and eat," he commanded without looking up. His voice sounded hard and cold and for some reason, it made you want to cry. You did as you were told, dragging your dirty tunic over your head and sat quietly at his table to pick at your food. You were confused and ashamed, sitting in the tense room with him while you tried to work out what he wanted from you. The idea of wanting a man out of desire never occurred to you. You had grown up under the impression women of your station did not get to experience the luxury of desire, and instead came to terms early on in life that you always had one asset to use at your disposal.

Not one time did you ever imagine being with a man out of affection or love.

"I apologize," you tried again after he had dried off and joined you. He had changed into a clean, white tunic and was clenching a similar one in his fist.

"You may use this," he said, ignoring your apology yet again. He thrusted the tunic towards you and you fumbled when you took it from his grasp. "The one you are wearing looks as if it might fall apart the moment you step outside and feel the sea breeze."

"Thank you," you murmured, fingertips brushing over the soft and expensive material in your lap.

"I will also call for more water tomorrow so you may wash yourself," he said before biting into a chunk of bread.

Your cheeks went hot with shame, still feeling guilt over the mercy and generosity he had shown you.

"I do not know what it is to desire someone," you said after a few quiet moments. Acacius continued to chew and kept his focus fixed on his plate. "I never imagined it would be a part of my life. May I remind you we come from different worlds."

He grunted in response but you noticed his shoulders begin to relax.

"I understand. But you must stop treating yourself as a whore. You are so much more than that, I have seen it with my own eyes. And to watch you debase yourself, to think so lowly of yourself, breaks my heart."

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears begin to well up, quickly threatening to spill down your cheeks. How could you have been so wrong? How could you not see the man for who he really was? He was a man who was gentle, kindhearted, protective and most importantly, cared very deeply for you. To what extent, you were unsure, but if he wanted you to desire him and he saved you from being used by countless other men, he certainly must have harbored stronger feelings than you ever thought possible.

"Alright."

His dark eyes flicked up to yours when you spoke.

"I will not debase myself," you said flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked back down at his food.

"Very well. I am pleased that has been sorted," he replied before shoving his plate off to the side and standing to collect the cups and dice. "Shall we play a few rounds before bed?"

You grinned and nodded, gathering up your plates and dumping them in the water by the door to clean later before joining him back at the table. And somehow, the awkwardness from the evening faded away after a few rolls of the dice.

It had been two weeks docked off shore on some foreign land. You hadn't left his room in over a month and you were beginning to feel insane. You told him as much early one morning when he was dressing for battle. It was still dark outside. Acacius had mentioned he wanted to arrive on shore before dawn so that he might get into position under the cover of night.

"When I return tonight, I will take you up on the deck for some fresh air," he promised as he cinched up his armor. "Do not leave this room when I am not here."

"Why not? Are your men not with you during the daytime?" you asked from his bed.

"It is not my men I worry about," he explained, sheathing his sword after lacing up his sandals.

"Then what do you worry for?"

"I worry about everything," he confessed. His hand was on the doorknob poised to leave, but he stopped to turn to you one last time. "I do not trust the soldiers from this city not to try to climb aboard the ships whilst we are gone. It is important the ships appear empty."

You nodded in understanding before burrowing back in his sheets and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you looking comfortable and radiant in his bed.

"Behave, my dove, and we may dine on the deck tonight," he said, making you smile wide. He slipped quietly out of his room and locked the door behind him, fearful if he lingered any longer, he may not leave the ship the whole day.

You spent the afternoon reading and bathing and cleaning the general's dirty clothes in the extra water he had brought up after he left. You weren't sure how it happened, but the two of you had fallen into a life of domesticity amidst war without even sharing so much as a kiss.

What surprised you the most was you enjoyed it. You enjoyed tending to his things and cleaning what you could during the day, and then caring for him at night when he returned all bloodied and tired.

It had not once crossed your mind that he may not return until it happened.

That night, you saw the lanterns bobbing over the water, your signal to begin heating up his water for a bath. Your hair smelled like the expensive oils you poured into his water from your own bath earlier. You smiled to yourself when you thought of smelling like him, and him of you.

Heavy footsteps landed on the wooden floorboards above your head and outside your door. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Acacius usually didn't come to his room right away. He typically visited the wounded soldiers in the infirmary, making sure they were well tended to and fed before doing his rounds, assigning a night crew, and then finally gathering food for you both before retiring for the evening.

But more time passed than usual. You could tell because your stomach began to rumble and his water grew lukewarm. You paced around the room, ears straining to hear the voices from the other soldiers, trying to discern anything from their muffled conversations.

It wasn't until two hours went by that you heard a sharp rap at the door and a man's voice echoing on the other side, announcing he brought you food.

Your blood went cold and you wondered if you should open the door, but then you remembered Acacius told you he wasn't worried about his own men, the underlying message being that his soldiers would never touch what was his. So after a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door.

"Here," a young man said, shoving one plate of food towards you. His face was stained with dried blood and dirt and you frowned before taking the food and thanking him softly.

"Where is the general?" you asked timidly.

"He fell in battle," he grumbled before turning away. Your heart plummeted as you reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking him by surprise.

"What do you mean?" you exclaimed. Fear and adrenaline mixed with something foreign coursed through your veins as you felt your lower lip tremble. The solider shook you off with disgust before stepping back.

"He was struck down. Last I saw of him he was lying still on the battlefield."

When he saw the look of despair on your face, he took pity on you.

"Others were assisting him, his body will return to Rome," he assured you before giving you a firm nod and disappearing down the long hall, leaving you to collapse into a fit of sobs behind the locked door.

The feeling you had in your chest was similar to the way you felt when your father passed, but something was different. It felt like a piece of you went dark, like you may never smile or laugh ever again. Grief consumed every fiber of your being and you found yourself crawling into his bed, face streaked with tears so thick you could hardly see your hands reach for his pillow. You pulled it tightly against your chest and you curled up around it, muffling your wails until your head began to pound and your body felt weak.

You drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning until the room grew cold and the fire dissolved into embers. You stood and wrapped a blanket around yourself, sniffling and shuffling over to the fire to stoke the flames wearing the general's spare tunic he had gifted you. After a few minutes, the fire roared back to life and you sat back with a heavy sigh.

Just as you were wondering what you would do come morning and how you would ever be able to move on without him, you heard footsteps approaching. You whipped around in fear and tightened your grip on the blanket. With the general no longer around to protect you, you had assumed the other men would eventually come looking for you, but you had to admit you didn't expect it so fast.

You curled yourself into a ball on your old bench, staring at the doorknob, expecting to see it jiggle and eventually forced open from the other side, but to your surprise the lock clicked quietly and the door slowly creaked open.

When you saw the general appear, limping and bloodied but still alive, you practically screamed. You jumped to your feet and rushed over, moments away from throwing yourself into his arms before you caught yourself.

"Acacius," you whispered in disbelief, the informality slipping easily past your lips for the very first time. He gave you a tired smile and locked the door behind him.

"I apologize for missing dinner," he said. You laughed as two fresh tears trickled down your cheeks. Your hands hovered nervously over his armor as if you weren't sure where you could touch him.

"Apology accepted," you replied before gingerly unhooking the armor around his shoulders. He groaned with relief when you lifted the heavy metal off him and set it against the wall by the door to polish another time. When you turned back around, you gasped at the blood that had seeped through his tunic, staining the yellow fabric a dark red.

"You are hurt," you whimpered, then hurried around his room for clean cloths, healing oils, and salves he kept in his desk. "Take that off and sit down. Allow me to tend to your wound."

He wordlessly lifted the ruined tunic over his head, wincing slightly when the wound at his side pulled, and he sat down at the table just as you instructed. You collected some of the unused water from his bath and set it over the flames to warm up before scooping up some more and setting it on the table next to him.

"They stemmed the bleeding on the boat," he explained. "It just needs to be cleaned and perhaps -"

"I will handle this. You just rest and eat," you told him, pushing your plate of uneaten food in his direction. His eyes fell onto the food and he frowned.

"It is untouched," he said, "why did you not eat?"

"How could I when I thought you were dead?" you snapped as you brought a soaked rag to his side and began to gently pat at the nasty looking gash.

Acacius took a bite of food, the flavors melting onto his tongue and making him groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, he had eaten all of the food except for the grapes. You were leaning across his lap, bandaging up his wound with intense focus. He sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth from the fire and the soft touch of your hand on his skin. He could already feel his strength beginning to return.

"That should hold," you said, sitting upright to inspect your work. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at the neat little bandage you had adhered to his wound.

"You did a very good job. Where did you learn such things?"

You shrugged and began to clean up the salves and oils. "On a farm, many accidents happen. You learn quickly how to tend to a wound."

He smiled and sipped from the wine you had poured for him while watching you move around the room, disposing of his soiled clothes and rags and then bringing the bucket of warm water over to the table with a fresh cloth.

When you pulled the other chair closer and sat, fitting your legs between his knees so you could reach him, he began to protest.

"You do not need to -"

"I want to," you said, cutting him off with a warm, wet cloth on his aching shoulders. His eyelids fluttered with a groan, leaning back into his chair and giving in. It felt so wonderful to be washed by your hand, to have you so close and safe while tenderly caring for him. It was all he had been dreaming about for years, ever since the first day he saw you at the market.

"So many scars," you whispered, swiping the cloth down his broad, strong chest. His breathing stuttered when you reached his stomach and he tensed.

"I have been in many battles," he murmured with his eyes still closed. You hummed to yourself and continued to work, diligently and carefully scrubbing away the layers of blood and grime until you cleaned everything you could see.

"Can you lean forward, General?" you asked, "I would like to cleanse your back."

He nodded and with a grunt, sat upright so he could lean forward. You stood from your chair and positioned yourself behind him, taking great care with every swipe of your cloth, afraid of unearthing a new wound under all the filth.

"Back to general now, are we?" he asked.

Your hand paused on his shoulder blade. He sensed your confusion and he chuckled.

"When I first arrived, you called me Acacius," he explained.

"Oh," you breathed before continuing your work. "That was disrespectful, I -"

"No, I quite liked it," he said before you could finish apologizing. "You may call me Marcus when we are alone, if you prefer."

Your eyes widened and although he couldn't see you, he could tell you were surprised.

"That would be highly irregular," you finally said softly, putting down the wet cloth and picking up a bottle of perfumed oil. You sprinkled a few drops into your palm and you rubbed your hands together. "That name should only be used by those closest to you."

He opened his mouth to respond but when your slick hands found his shoulders and your fingers began to dig into the knots in his muscles, he moaned and felt himself go lax.

"Oh gods, that feels incredible," he rasped. The deep timber of his voice sent a wave of arousal right to your core. You continued to work on his back and shoulders, privately marveling at his broad frame and firm muscles under his scarred, bronzed skin. He was truly something to behold. So strong, handsome, and fearless. Yet also kind and gentle. The proximity of his body and the ricocheting emotions you had experienced that evening had you reacting to him in a way you never had before. It was confusing and strange yet also exciting, and the noises you were drawing from his mouth with every roll of your thumbs was causing a dull ache to form between your thighs.

You blinked and cleared your throat, trying to shake the heavy curtain of lust that clung to you.

"What happened out there? One of your men informed me you were dead."

Marcus sighed and sat up straight, the angle causing you to drop your hands from his tight shoulders. One of his massive hands reached back to take yours so he could lead you to stand in front of him, between his knees.

"They had called a truce. They requested to discuss terms of surrender, so I called off my men and went to speak with their king," he began, his hand still engulfing your own as he gazed up at you with his soft, dark eyes. "It was a trap. They ambushed me when I got out of range. It must have been twenty of them," he continued solemnly, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he spoke. "I slayed them all, one by one, but once I took down their final solider, an archer took aim from the wall. I was able to dodge the arrow but I was not quick enough," he chuckled and looked down at his wound. "I am not the young man I once was."

"I cried for hours," you admitted quietly. His eyes darted up to yours again, holding his breath as you spoke. "I had never considered you would not return to me at the end of the day. However, when I got word you had died-"

You paused when a sob got lodged in your throat. You knit your brows together, hoping to stave off your tears while Marcus patiently waited. Eventually, you gave him a watery smile and lifted your free hand to cup his cheek.

"I felt a grief I never thought I would feel again," you said, voice shaking. His eyes searched your face, watching the way your anguish rolled through you at the memory. He swallowed tightly and, with his other hand, gently gripped your waist.

"Tell me," he whispered, "did you feel these things only because you feared for your safety if I was not here?"

You shook your head as one singular tear trickled down your cheek.

"No," you breathed, "it was because I felt like a part of me died, too. Because I could not imagine my life without you."

When you saw the joyful look in his eye, you quickly closed the remaining distance between you, leaning down the rest of the way and slanting your mouth desperately over his. He moaned and dropped your hand so he could cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer so you were forced to straddle his lap.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned amid kisses that were growing increasingly messy as the heat between you grew. "How badly I want you? How long I have waited?"

Your mind was blank. You couldn't think of a single thing to say, but Marcus didn't give you a chance to respond, anyway. His tongue slipped past your lips, greedily swirling in tandem with yours and forcing your jaw to open wider. The hand on your waist dropped to flatten against your lower back and he pressed you forward so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak between your bodies.

Underneath your gifted tunic, you were bare. When you joined the other whores all those weeks ago, they told you there was no use for undergarments, that the men would just destroy them if you bothered to wear any, so just like all the others, you never did. It had never been a problem until that very moment, when Marcus had you writhing in his lap, hips stretched wide and cunt free to rub against his thigh. When you first made contact with his leg, the firm muscle brushing against your sensitive clit, you jumped in his lap and moaned into his mouth.

"Tell me, sweet thing," he murmured when he finally broke the kiss. You were panting heavily, eyelids drooping with need as you gazed down at him. "I know you have not sold yourself to a man, but have you ever laid with one before?"

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. His lips brushed up against your throat and he began to suck on the sensitive skin there as both of his hands fell to your hips. Gently, he rocked you back and forth, sliding your slick, bare cunt over his thigh. He heard you sigh and smiled against your skin when your head dipped backwards in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes," you whispered, voice raspy and thick. "Oh, yes, it feels... heavenly," you told him with a sigh.

"Good," he grunted, "keep going. Do not stop until you come. I will need you soft and wet before you take my cock."

"Yes, General," you replied obediently, making his cock jump behind his thin loincloth.

Marcus tugged at the back of your loose tunic, stretching the material across your breasts so your hardened nipples poked through. With a low growl, he lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around one, cloth and all. His teeth added a surprisingly tantalizing amount of pressure that had you gasping for air as your hips quickened their pace over his thigh. You must have been leaving streaks of arousal all over him but something told you he didn't mind.

"You desire me, yes?" he questioned when he switched his attention to your other breast. You nodded feverishly, face tilted towards the ceiling as you chased your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasped, "yes, Ge- Marcus."

He groaned so loudly you thought he might wake up the whole ship.

"Fuck, say that again."

You smiled and circled your hips faster, grinding down onto his thick leg. You were so close, you could taste it.

"Marcus," you whined, "oh, Marcus. I cannot wait to feel you inside of me. I just know you will make me feel so good, will you not?"

Suddenly, his hand was back on your neck and his mouth was pressed tightly against the underside of your jaw, not unlike a wild animal pinning his prey against his sharp fangs. You could feel his hot puffs of air fanning across your skin and his teeth scraping your throat. His intensity might have frightened you if you weren't on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm.

"I will make you feel so good, you will never want to take another lover again," he said darkly. The hairs on your arms stood up but you continued to rut yourself as fast as you could against his thigh, your own chest heaving as you fought for air. "And if I have it my way, you never will," he added.

His words were what tipped you over the edge. You cried out his name and clutched at his shoulders for support as your orgasm rolled through you, covering him with your slick.

Your body was still trembling in his arms when he lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You blinked rapidly in response, poised to argue with him about potentially reopening his wound, but before you could get a single word out he had tossed you onto the sheets and climbed on top of you, caging you in.

"Before I ravish you, my sweet, what do you know of coupling?"

You scoffed. "I am no fool, I know how it works."

Marcus chuckled at your snark and sat back on his heels to peel your tunic over your head, exposing yourself entirely to him. A groan rumbled through his wide, bare chest as he stared down at you hungrily, all spread out and ready for him.

"I cannot lie. Ever since you first stood before me naked, your beautiful body has consumed my every waking thought."

"It shows incredible restraint, then, for you to share a bed with me each night," you teased, eyes dancing playfully as he stripped himself of his loincloth.

"You have no idea," he growled, falling back onto his forearms. The tip of his nose nudged against yours affectionately. "I have waited years for this, my sweet."

The idea of any man pining after you, let alone the mighty General of Rome, was a strange and foreign concept.

"I am just the daughter of a poor farmer," you muttered, fingers brushing his peppered curls behind his ear.

"Your station means very little to me," he replied, looking down between your bodies so he could notch the thick head of his cock at your opening. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Your pulse quickened when you felt the slight bit of pressure he applied. Knowing how it worked was one thing, experiencing it for the first time was another.

"I-I was told it may hurt," you said meekly. Marcus's eyes found yours and he tenderly cupped your jaw.

"Yes, that is true, but I promise it will not last long," he assured you. You swallowed and nodded before spreading your legs wider and hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Tell me if it is too much," he murmured. He pressed your foreheads together, lips hovering above yours, ready to soothe you from the pain.

"Go on, then," you said bravely.

Slowly, he breeched your opening and sunk one inch inside of you. You gasped and dug your heels harder into his thighs, but Marcus held steady.

"Speak," he demanded after a few seconds of listening to your heavy breathing.

"It stings," you admitted, "but it is not... unpleasant."

He nodded and pecked a chaste kiss against your lips before giving you another inch. You whined and squirmed a bit but once you settled, he took it as his cue to continue. It went just like that until he finally found himself fully seated inside of your tight heat.

"The worst is over, my sweet," he told you.

You wiggled underneath him, moving this way and that until you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands wrapped around the backs of his biceps and you stretched your neck so you could bite and nip playfully at his prickly jaw.

"I enjoy being full of you," you admitted shyly, eliciting a grunt from the back of his throat.

"Good," he grumbled before drawing back his hips and slowly easing himself back inside your warmth. "Because I intend on having you full of me as much as possible. I fear I will never have enough now that you have given me a taste."

Your jaw dropped open when he began to move faster, gently and steadily working you open, carving a space for himself inside of you forever. The only thing you wanted was to have him as close as you could, so you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his neck, molding your bodies together as one.

"My sweet girl," he panted, mouth hunting for yours. "You feel better than I ever dreamed. So fucking tight and wet. I cannot believe my fortune, that you would give yourself to me. I wonder if I did indeed die in battle and have ascended to the heavens."

The stretch was divine, his heavy length dragging in and out of you and nudging against a spot that made your stomach clench and your head grow fuzzy.

"Do not say such things," you scolded him breathlessly. His hips stilled for a moment, waiting for you to continue. "Do not jest about your death. My heart cannot handle it."

His eyes softened and his mouth crashed against yours with a groan, overcome that you would feel so strongly for him. He began to roll his hips again but kept his mouth latched onto yours, swallowing down your whimpers and moans.

"I will never leave you," he whispered against your lips. His thrusts grew quicker but he tried his best to be careful and not drive himself too deep for fear of causing you pain. "I will always return now that I have you waiting for me. I shall be invincible in battle."

You laughed lightly, dragging your mouth down his throat and tasting his freshly perfumed skin.

"Was that all it took for you to become immortal?" you teased.

"Yes," he hissed, "a cunt as snug and perfect as yours is all a man needs to give him purpose."

His hand slithered between your back and sheets, pressing his palm firmly against your spine so you arched underneath him. His knees spread wider so he could get better leverage, and he began to roughly snap his hips. You gasped and grabbed onto his hair, giving it a sharp tug and making him groan. It was lewd yet somehow romantic, hearing the sound of your skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.

"Does it hurt?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.

"No," you whimpered inbetween the soft moans he drew every time his cock slammed back into you. "Oh gods, Marcus, please-"

"What do you need, my love?"

He sounded breathless, his voice slightly strained, and your chest burst with pride. You loved the idea of being the one who made such a strong man so very weak.

"I- I am not sure," you admitted truthfully. "It feels so wonderful, but it is different than before."

As it turned out, you didn't need to figure out what you needed because Marcus knew. Somehow, he managed to know your body better than you. He knew how to make it sing and thrum just for him.

His hand snuck between your bodies and the pad of his thumb found your clit. He rubbed firm, slow circles over the sensitive bud, and his name instantly flew from your mouth, loud and wild. You likely could be heard from shore, but Marcus never shushed you. In fact, he smiled and worked his thumb faster, drawing out more delicious moans with every stroke.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured while sucking a mark into your neck. He could feel your lower belly begin to tense and heard your breath waver, so he circled his hips faster, cock greedily plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, chasing his release with reckless abandon now that he could feel you were close.

"I have obsessed over you for years. Dreamed of having you all to myself, just like this," he continued. He could sense his words had a great effect on you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him when he admitted his deepest secrets, so he kept talking.

"Long nights spent on the cold ground in the middle of war, I would dream of you. I would wonder what you would be doing back in Rome. I would pray you did not find a husband while I was away."

Marcus gasped when your cunt gripped around him so tightly that it took his breath away. "The thought of you belonging to another was enough to drive me insane," he groaned before capturing your lips with his.

"I am yours," you rasped when he pulled away, and when your eyes locked, he could see the adoration he felt for you reflected right back. "For as long as you will have me, I am yours."

Marcus's eyes slid closed in bliss after hearing the words he so longed to hear. "Come for me, my love. Come for me and when we return home, I shall make you my wife. I will take care of you. I promise you will never go hungry again."

Your hands grappled with the back of his head, fingers threading through his unruly locks as you pulled him down for a searing kiss. He muffled the sounds of your orgasm, cries of his name dying in your throat while your body bucked wildly beneath him.

It only took a few moments before he joined you. With his hand roughly squeezing your hip, he yanked you towards him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to shake.

Marcus flicked the sheets so he could toss them over your trembling bodies. He planted kisses along the side of your head and jaw, then brushed the hair away from your face until your breathing leveled and your eyes reopened.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I am tired."

Marcus withdrew his hips, sliding his softening cock out from your clutch. You cried out in pain and he instantly jolted out of bed to soak a clean rag in some leftover warm water, then hurried back to press it between your legs.

"Better?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Thank you."

He gave you a quick kiss and slid back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so he could nuzzle your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear.

"Must you leave me in the morning? Can you not spend just one day recovering from your wound?"

Marcus kissed your bare shoulder and shook his head.

"The war is almost done. Tomorrow, I will make them surrender so we may sail home and start our life together."

You grinned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Did you mean that?"

"What is that, my love?"

"When you said you would make me your wife," you said sheepishly. "Or was that just your mind getting lost to desire?"

"No, I meant every word," he said before rolling over and snuffing out the candle next to the bed. "When we return to Rome, I will make you my bride. You will bear my children and I will watch them play in the garden with you by my side."

You hummed and closed your eyes. "That sounds lovely."

You had very little idea of the politics in Rome and how the highest ranking general of the Roman army could possibly announce he was going to wed a poor farmer's daughter, but you knew deep down if Marcus wanted it, he would somehow make it happen. You knew this because his determination always won, on and off the battlefield.

After all, you were living proof of it.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bruce Wayne fucked his partners through the mattress—and it depended on who and why. If you know he’s Batman, then he’d fuck for stress relief, to uncoil the sickening knot in his belly. However, if you’re unaware of his nighttime activities and believe you’d just lucked up meeting Bruce Wayne, then he’d fuck for ego. He’s got a point to prove: all those years as a recluse hadn’t dulled his ability to grant a lady a good time; that the stories of his youthful adventures are true. (Though his ego bleeds over into Batman as well since he wonders if he’s too old to still be the Dark Knight. If he’s lost his edge).

Bruce’s stamina is insane. He’d have you spread on your belly while he drove his cock into you. One hand enclosed around your throat, the other encircling your waist, and his lips grazing over your ear. Warm gusts of air caressing your cheek with each huff and grunt. The faint scent of his cologne lingering within the atmosphere, though it had been toppled by the aroma of sweat and sex. “Fuck,” he gritted out,” so tight f’me, doll. Only for me. Mine, aren’t you?” There was pride in being the one to undo Bruce Wayne, to make him cuss and grunt like a caveman, to draw out his Gotham accent. He was usually so put-together and driven.

Time warped and melted whenever Bruce had you beneath him. Despite his age, (don’t let him hear that) he could fuck for hours, content to drive his cum back into your hole until he came again. In fact, he enjoyed the slickness. There was something about keeping you beneath him that soothed the territorial monster caged within him like Mr. Hyde. Rarely could you lure the possessive, emerald eyed, envious beast out; Bruce was old and had dealt with his fair share of women seeking an emotional response. But with the perfect concoction of circumstances could you shatter the manacles binding the dominating, jealous, spiteful side of him—and it was wonderful.

Dick Grayson (Dixon’s version) preferred to let his lover work for it. There was a tantalizing element to gazing at his partner while she straddled him, and attempted to sink down into his cock. Dick wasn’t girth-y like Jason or Bruce (nor as unshaven). No, Dick was slim and long—and pretty. Dick was shaven and trimmed, smooth and hairless if he could help it. He never liked to offer up unshaven goods; he thought it was rude.

“God, you. . . you ride like a pro,” he breathed out, nigh gasping as though he’d run a race beside Usain Bolt. A sheen of sweated coated his toned physique, and a scarlet blush left a fiery trail from his cheeks down to his neck. “Don’t stop till I say.” Dick is more selfish in bed than Jason. Unlike Jason, Dick knows he’s cute—pretty, even. He’s confident both in himself and his ability to be selfish and still make you cum. . . hard. He won’t hesitate to assume control if he’s not liking your rhythm, or if he just wants to be a little shit and knock your orgasm off kilter. “Oh, were you going to cum? Sorry. Didn’t notice.”

Speaking of orgasms, Dick cums beautifully, even when he’d rather be described as ‘’manly’’ and handsome. He couldn’t restrain the tremble of his muscular thighs, or quell the furnace roaring inside his belly, or freeze the stars bursting behind the paleness of his eyelids. “I know, pretty baby. I know. Tight, aren’t I? Let it out for me,” you cooed, caressing his sweat-slick, inky black curls. Dick nodded quick and desperately, coal black lashes falling over his oceanic eyes. “Yes. Yes. That’s it. Gonna cum again. Just keep going.” The power he’d stolen returned with a vengeance. He’d gone limp beneath you. Fucked out, his breaths tremulous and stuttered. Naturally, Dick’s palms found purchase upon your breasts, pinching and flicking your nipples before he exerted the last of his strength to lean forward and suckle one into his mouth.

(There’s hints of a mommy kink if you squint hard enough).

Jason Todd loved to see his partner deep-throat his cock. It’s a personal pleasure of his, the one time he allows himself to be selfish during sex. He’s not sure why it’s fascinating to him. Perhaps the sheer primality of watching you struggle to swallow his thickness intrigues him, excites him, causes the hairs on his forearms to stand at attention and the nerves within his body to buzz like a million bees trapped beneath his skin.“That’s right, baby, keep going. Till I see tears,” he murmured, as his large hands slithered up into your nape and tightened in your hair.” Show me how much you love me, baby.”

“What a beauty.” Jason’s chocolate smeared irises tipped backward, his slender hips bucking upward into the warm cavern of your throat, his cock spewing viscous ropes of pearlescent cum. Jason’s frame fell slack against the sofa. Sated. Only you could loosen the tautness in his shoulders like a ball of yarn. Boy, did he adore you.” I hope you can go all night. Cuz I got some steam I been needin’ t’ blow off.”

[pinkmoonastro]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[bbokicidal]

Not a Need, but a Craving | Loser!Perv!SKZ

Warnings: Chris is lowkey a creep here lol, Perverted behavior; Panty stealing, slapping of tits/ass/face, hair pulling, up-the-skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom?Jeongin Pairing: OT8 [individual] x Fem-implied!Reader Genre: Suggestive but not smut (well.. sort of. 18+) Notes: Based loosely off of this perv!skz post I did a while ago. <- read this first!

방찬

Relation: Trainees

❥ Chris tells himself he'll delete these pictures every time he takes them, but he always ends up adding them to the the album specifically curated towards you and your -- well, the panties he deemed so cute and so sexy, enough so that he needed the pictures on his phone or he'd die. It was the only thing that he could get off to at this point; Women just didn't ever seem to want to come home with him so he could actually get some pussy, so...

❥ He's almost... proud of himself with how slick he's gotten; Taking pictures up your dress at the club when you're dancing against him, sneaking a photo or two up your skirt on the train while you wait to get off, or even up your nightgown when you're in the kitchen making breakfast for him after he stayed the night because the ride home was hours long and you had too big of a heart to let him go so late in the night.

❥ And of course he knows you can never find out. You're pretty, popular amongst the trainees and he's -- yeah, he's been there a long chunk of time but he doesn't have a ton friends or go out with people like you do. If you found out, if anyone found out, he'd be kicked out of the company and he'd never see you - or your pretty pussy and cute lacy panties - ever again...

리노

Relation: College students

❥ Minho is always touching you. When he can, at least.

❥ It started all because you sat next to him when studying. He was there to help you, but you insisted on moving closer to look at the textbook he was gesturing to and the moment your thigh brushed against his own it was all over for him. He'd tensed up and choked on every word that tried to leave his throat, ears bright pink. He could even smell your perfume from where he sat.

❥ He knew almost immediately he needed more, so as he came over more often to help you with classwork - because that's all he was to you, a tutor - he would let you sit close or even ask you to come sit beside him instead of across the table so he could have you right there. He would think about it later, too; The way your hand lingered on his arm when you patted it and bid him goodbye that evening, the way your fingertips brushed over his own as you eyed the textbook together.

❥ Maybe he was a bigger loser than he thought, getting off just from the simple touch of a pretty girl he shares a class with. (Not that he'd ever admit to you that sometimes he comes in his pants when your thighs touch his own under the table...)

창빈

Relation: Gym buddies

❥ Changbin was... still shameless.

❥ But even less so, now. He'd begun asking you to come to the gym with him all three times of the week he went - his schedule a bit busier than normal these days - and every single time he would go home and right away hop in the shower to tug on his cock.

❥ He'd started doing this... thing. He swore it was so that at the end of the year, you could create a video that showed your progress over every day you spent together at the gym working hard - but really, Changbin took photos of you two together at the end of your workouts just so he could use them while he got off later that evening. The sight of your hair all messy, you in slightly damp workout leggings and a sports bra, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat...

❥ He knew it was a little gross, using your body to get off like that. Especially when you were sweaty in all of the pictures - But he preferred it that way. He could hear your heavy breathing in his ears even hours after you'd parted ways, the way your chest bumped his arm as he flexed and you held up a playful peace sign and smile. Call him gross all you want - He knew what he liked, and what he liked was you.

현진

Relation: Friend of a friend

❥ The collection was growing day by day and Hyunjin was getting more and more bold with every move he made. He never got the real thing because girls just weren't interested in him with his long hair, glasses, and pretty round eyes; so this was the best he'd get.

❥ He'd started sleeping over more often, using Felix as a reason to even be there in the first place. You two were close, he was close with the Australian - so he was automatically invited too, right? Right! And when he was over at your house and you were distracted playing a game with Felix, well - what was Hyunjin to do but go through your drawers and find something to take home with him?

❥ He's got favorites, of course. Anything pink is by far at the top of his 'I want this' list, stealing a lacy pair the first time he came over - then two more pair, one set seamless and the other covered in cherries, the next time he visited. Luckily for you, he doesn't stay the night at your place too often, or you'd be running out of underwear constantly with how he's stealing them left and right.

❥ But Hyunjin swears he's seen you stealing glances at him here and there, so... maybe if you knew he was using them to jerk himself off every night or sleeping with them curled up near his face so he could rest with your scent right beside him, you'd be more open to just handing him a pair to keep.

❥ It's only a matter of time before he starts taking the used ones.

한

Relation: College Roommates

❥ Jisung can't help the way he's just so... submissive? Around you?

❥ Let me explain. Jisung's developed a real bad habit of acting like he needs help from you when you're around because if he needs help, you'll touch him. He'll eat messier than normal so you'll wipe his lips clean for him - and yes, he'll practically come in his pants at the feeling of your thumb so close to slipping in his mouth - or he'll almost act as if he doesn't know how to do something so you'll hold his hands while you explain or hold onto him as you help him learn how to do something. Even if he's just faking being a bit of a himbo so you'll help him.

❥ And one of the reasons he gets away with this ^ so easily? Is because he's a known loser around campus and he's constantly teased for it. And you..? Well, you're the pretty girl who takes pity on him.

❥ His favorite is when you come to check on him at night or peek in to see if he's sleeping before you shower. He'll hum out that his head hurts or that his back aches from training all day or working out - and you'll comb his hair through your fingers or rub your hands down his back until he's falling asleep under your touch. And while, yes, it does help him sleep in the long run - it also makes him rock hard. The moment you leave the room after he 'falls asleep' he's rutting his hips down against the mattress and whimpering your name into his pillow.

필릭스

Relation: Best friend's brother

❥ Felix is affectionate with everyone he's close to. But you -- you're beautiful, and soft, and your tits are just so...

❥ Call him a loser if you want - he knows it's what he is. A desperate, shy, sweet angel who's booksmart and tries way too hard to be cool, who hangs around the pretty, popular girl because she's his sister's best friend. Just the precious little brother who sees that gorgeous girl once or twice a week at his home and takes it as an opportunity to hang around her; Hugging onto you, burying his face in your neck, cuddling up close during movies.

❥ And you let him cling to you because 1) He's hot, and 2) You know it's the only touch from a woman he'll ever get. And you suppose you don't mind the way his hands wander over your body when he swears he's just cuddling close and getting comfortable. You're pretty sure he doesn't realize you know he's feeling you up and groping every curve of your body, but. Ignorance is bliss.~

승민

Relation:

❥ It starts as an accident.

❥ Seungmin's hand caught in your hair when he laid it on your back and as he pulled away, his ring caught and pulled. He'd moved away so fast it had been enough to make your head lull back, a gasp and yell of pain and laughter falling from your lips as you reach to push his arm away.

❥ And Seungmin... -- God. He's weak in the knees. He spots the way your mouth falls open, your nose crinkles and eyes close at the feeling of your hair being pulled. And he knows in that moment that he needs to see you like that again.

❥ So he does it as a joke; subtle and cautious about it at first. You'll play fight or bicker about anything and Seungmin will pull your hair, fingers fisted tight in the strands until his hand was so close to your scalp that he had full control of your head. On one instance he had pulled you close until his face was inches from yours, cocking a brow and listening to you whine about how tight he was holding onto your hair - and another, you'd dropped forward into his lap in laughter while he was still holding onto you and he swore he almost shot a load in his boxers. That was the closest a woman had ever been to his hips - And if you didn't feel the way his cock twitched against the side of your face, it would've been a miracle.

아이엔

Relation: Close friends

❥ Jeongin loves being a little mean to you because you're the only woman in his life who will let him get away with it.

❥ You're one of his closest friends, even if he's kind of lame and everyone looks down on him for being the youngest in his group - and you're the one who openly bickers with him, teases him, and he does it all back to you and you take it, which surprises him a little bit. You let him pull on you and wrestle with you or cling to you when he's tired, even if he's all sweaty and gross. But sometimes the wrestling or bickering turns to pushing and pulling on each other until you're both on the floor and he's holding you down while you're kicking to be free.

❥ The first time he spanks you, all he remembers is the way you cry out and feeling of your ass against his palm. He plays it off by laughing because that's what you do, completely disregarding it and brushing it off before spanking him as well in retaliation - and he lets it happen. Not because he's into it, but because he's too distracted with trying to figure out how to hide the fact that he's so hard it hurts.

❥ He's going to need more of that feeling in the future. He knows he does - so he does it again to test the waters and when you, once again, laugh at it and take it as play-fighting, he dares to go further. These days the two of you are always slapping at each other's arms and thighs and ass - but if he's feeling really bold he'll slap your tits and sometimes, your face. Gently, of course, little taps here and there when it comes to your cheeks. And each time you take it in stride with giggles and slapping him in return, while he gets off to it later that evening in the bathroom stall after practice, remembering the way you feel under his palms when he spanks you.

❥ And that's how Jeongin discovered his impact play kink.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @felixleftchickennugget @byeon-bae

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, “I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.

➺ INCLUDES: wakasa imaushi, haruchiyo sanzu, hanma shuji, shinichiro sano, ran haitani (all of legal age, timeskip or bonten) x fem!reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | this post contains explicit porn links!! you may need to have a twitter account or change your privacy settings to be able to see them. The women on the videos are white-skinned + please do not interact if you are under 18.

➺ NOTE | tokrev version !! again, the links will probably disappear after a little while but i'll do my best to replace them or find similar ones when that happens!

➟ WAKASA

Wakasa knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows it. The look on your face along with those sweet, pathetic little sounds you make as he pounds into you tells him everything he needs to know. He's only been fucking you for a couple minutes and you're already moaning, babbling and begging him to go harder, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

↳ LINK ↲ [updated!]

➟ SANZU

Sanzu could spend hours playing with your pussy before even thinking of touching you with his cock. He’ll have your back pressed flush against his chest, fingers rubbing your clit in fast, frantic circles, his hard cock poking your lower back as he watches you squirm and whimper for more.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ HANMA

Hanma fucking loves your tits. It doesn't matter what size they are, he'll have his hands and mouth on them every time you ride him, sucking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it while his free hand gives equal attention to the other breast, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his index finger and thumb.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ SHINICHIRO

Shinichiro loves giving more than receiving, and he’s not afraid of letting things get messy. He’ll greedily lap up your pussy while he fingers you, his index, middle and ring fingers buried deep in your cunt as his cum leaks out in thick loads, trickling down his hand as he pumps it out of you.

↳ LINK ↲

➟ RAN

Ran has fucked you on every flat surface in every room of your shared house, but his favorite place to fuck is the bathroom. He’ll have you laid on the counter, one leg lifted and propped against the sink while he fucks you from behind, your moans echoing off the thin, definitely not soundproof walls. (Bonus point if you're in front of a mirror)

↳ LINK ↲

[sugugasm]

୨୧ ˗ˏˋ OTAKU HOT GIRL ! | suguru & satoru x yn “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass.” ꒰ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ! ꒱ this is me being delusional srry, but thinkin ab gojo & geto fucking tall, curvy! reader after she begs them to watch her favorite anime with her . . like ugh rn. also forgive me if this is pure degeneracy. i was bein a horn dog n’ there’s no plot rlly :/ inspired by the one n only stallion ofc, we luv u mama

꒰ 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 ꒱ : blk fem reader, uses she/her pronouns, usage of pet names like cocksleeve, love, baby, babe, sweetheart, etc. positions included such as doggystyle, double pen, themes such as choking, bratty reader, dom! satoru & suguru, rough sex ??, oral fem recieve, oral male receive, dirty talk, mentions of a size kink, lots n lots of cum, mmm yum so gross — 5.3𝑲 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕

“hurry up, boys! m’ gonna’ be mad if you miss the intro. it ruins the whole experience of watching for the first time!”

“we’re comin’, woman. calm down.”

both satoru and suguru scurry around in your shared kitchen, gathering the rest of whatever horrid snack combinations they could find before jogging lightly to make their way over to you on the couch. with your feet positioned criss-crossed n’ a warm bowl of popcorn sizzling down in your lap, the only thing really missing were the two imbeciles of men you mistakenly decided to roommate with around a year or two ago.

you roll your eyes fondly as satoru and suguru finally plop down on either side of you, their arms laden with an assortment of junk food. satoru’s got a family-sized bag of cool ranch doritos tucked under one arm and a jar of peanut butter in the other hand, while suguru’s juggling a pack of oreos, a can of whipped cream, and what looks suspiciously like . . ew, a jar of pickles. what?

“are y’all for real right now?” you laugh, eyeing their haul with a mix of amusement and disgust. “ we’re about to watch anime, not enter a county fair eating contest.”

“hey, don't knock it til’ you’ve tried it,” satoru grins, ripping open the doritos and the peanut butter simultaneously. his gaze dips briefly to your chest, taking in the way your soft pink lace cami clings to your curves. “besides, we’ve gotta’ fuel up. you said this show is, and i quote, ‘a cultural reset that will redefine our understanding of feminism and body positivity in media.’ i don’t know man, that sounds intense.”

suguru snorts, unscrewing the oreo package. his eyes briefly lingering on the bare expanse of your thighs, the flimsy matching shorts riding high as you curl your legs underneath you. “pretty sure she just meant it’s got a lot of ass shakin’ and women empowerment. still, sounds pretty lovely.”

you chuck a kernel of popcorn at his head, giggling when it bounces off his nose. “excuse you, that’s a very tiny observation of ‘megan - sama : twerk hero for a new generation.’ s’ a journey of a woman’s adventure to self-love and confidence in a world that constantly tries to tear her down. she uses her sexuality as a form of power. she like, challenges the male gaze and double standards with, well . . every clap of her ass.”

satoru blinks at you, a glob of peanut butter sliding off the dorito he’s holding halfway to his mouth. “that . . was surprisingly deep, yn.”

“mmm, that's our girl,” suguru says proudly, throwing an arm around your shoulders. his fingers skimming over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “beautiful, brilliant, and able to find meaning in the most unlikely places. like a twerking anime.”

you elbow him playfully in the ribs, warmth blooming in your chest at the casual praise even as heat prickles across your skin at the contact. “you’re jokin’ but m’ serious,” you whine, “it celebrates a body type that’s so often shamed and or fetishized, like i dunno’ . . she faces some of the worst - but she never gives up, and that self-love is what ultimately gives her the strength to change the world around her in the end . .” you keep gushing, waxing poetic about megan’s badassery and the show’s powerful message. the boys listen attentively, nodding along, but you don't miss the way their gazes keep drifting south, tracing your figure with barely-concealed appreciation.

you hated to go on your fourth tangent of the week right now, but god, representation really did matter. it was practically rare to see your body type in entertainment — let alone that exact body type standing at a whopping 5’10. this was . . like you said, a real cultural reset.

a comfortable silence then settles as they finish taking it in, the low murmur of the anime’s opening theme — otaku hot girl, now filling the room. you sneak a glance at satoru out of the corner of your eye, surprised to find him looking thoughtful rather than skeptical like any other guy your age would.

“i can dig it,” satoru says slowly, popping a peanut butter dorito into his mouth. “more representation of different body types in media, s’ important. and i mean, objectively speaking . . .” he rakes his eyes over your form, lingering on the swell of your hips and ass. “i like a tall woman with a nice, big ass. ain't nothin’ wrong with a little extra somethin' to hold onto, y’know?”

you raise a brow, something playfully bold and a little reckless brewing in your chest. “is that so? didn’t know y’liked your girls thick, gojo.”

satoru swallows, adam's apple bobbing as his gaze snaps to yours. “no, yn. i love, my girls thick,” he says, voice pitched low. “well that and, exploring your sexuality n’ confidence in general is jus’ sexy . . as hell.”

“hmmm, i see. getou?” you turn to suguru, head cocked. “any thoughts?”

suguru’s smile is slow and devastating, dark promise in his eyes. “he’s not wrong. m’ sure you know that though. body like . . yours, s’the kinda canvas i could spend hours worshipping. takes an incel to not appreciate it, honestly.”

“oh please. all that bravado, but i can’t you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.” you shimmy your shoulders, drawing attention to the truly tremendous amount of cleavage your cami isn't concealing. “you'd probably bust in your boxers if you so much as touched this ass. thank youuu.”

but even as you say that with all the confidence in the world, you can’t help but to think . . ‘what if?’ what if they could? what if you were talkin’ straight out of your ass right now just to have it be thrown in your face later on? — no, never, couldn’t be.

and later on, as the end credits of the final episode roll, you stretch languidly, you’d forgotten about the thought, feeling pleasantly buzzed from two pretty drinks the three of you had earlier and the easy camaraderie of the night. satoru and suguru have been the perfect viewing companions, cracking jokes and providing commentary that had you in stitches more often than not.

but all in all, underneath the lighthearted banter, you can feel something else tiptoeing - a tension, an electricity that’s been building all night. it’s in the way satoru’s gaze lingers on the curve of your throat as you tip your head back to laugh. it’s in the heat of suguru’s palm on your knee, his thumb rubbing absent circles that inch higher and higher with each passing minute.

“so . .” satoru drawls as the autoplay timer counts down to the next season. “that was . . actually enlightening annnd i just followed megan on instagram. so, when will she be mine?”

“mhmm, told you,” you laugh, feeling loose and languid from the warmth of the alcohol in your veins and the solid press of their bodies on either side of you. “and i dunno, join the club. she’s a fuckin’ queen. knows what she wants and goes for it, she’s inspirational, and an overall bad bitch, duh — i want her too.”

“kinda like someone else we know,” suguru muses, a sly curl to his lips as he turns to face you. his eyes are dark, heated in a way that makes your breath catch. “ain’t that right, yn?”

you swallow, pulse picking up speed as you meet his loaded gaze. “oh? and who might that be?”

“you,” satoru says bluntly, shifting to angle his body towards you as well. the movement brings him close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the firm press of his muscular thigh against yours. “talkin’ all that shit earlier, bout’ how we couldn’t handle you. you think that, babe?”

oh . . so maybe you were wrong.

and they had planned on it proving that to you.

there’s a challenge in his tone, a dare that sends a frisson of anticipation skittering down your spine. you lick your lips, noting with a thrill how both their gazes zero in on the movement, “maybe i did,” you say, pitching your voice low and breathy. “what’re you gonna’ do about it?”

suguru makes a rough sound in the back of his throat, fingers flexing on your knee. “oh, well since you asked . . we can give a little demo - show you exactly what we’re gonna’ do about it. ain’t that right, satoru?”

“damn straight,” satoru growls, a wicked gleam in his eye. “whaddaya’ say, sweet thing? why don’t you go ahead n’ show us what makes you a hot girl, yn?” he finishes.

heart pounding, skin prickling with goosebumps, you lift your chin in clear provocation. “tch, whatever. bring it on then, bitches. show me what you’ve got.”

of course you’d challenge them. why wouldn’t you? you quite literally had the power of god and megan on your side.

twin groans meet your bold words, suguru’s hand tightening convulsively on your leg as satoru’s eyes blaze with intent. “don’t mind if we do,” satoru rasps, voice gone low and gravelly with want. “been fuckin’ gagging for it all night, watchin’ you all curled up and cozy in this tiny ass pajama set, lookin’ good enough to eat . .”

“gonna’ fuckin’ devour you,” suguru vows, already shifting to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. “gonna’ put this bratty little mouth to good use, fuck, been dyin’ to feel these pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

you moan, head tipping back to grant him better access even as your hands come up to fist in satoru’s hair, dragging him down for a filthy, biting kiss. he groans into your mouth, licking past the seam of your lips to tangle his tongue with yours, one large hand palming roughly at your breast through the flimsy lace of your cami.

“fuckin’ tease,” he pants when you break apart for air, fingers already working at the tiny buttons holding the top closed. “prancin’ around in this scrap of nothin’ all night, like a slut. y’knew we wouldn’t be able to stop thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“why don’t you tell me?” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant need in their faces, the desperate flex of their hands on your body. “c’mon, boys, use your words. what’ve you been thinkin’ about doin’ to me all night, huh? how’re you gonna’ shut me up, put me in my place?”

“jesus fuckin’ christ,” suguru swears feelingly, wrenching himself away from your neck to stare at you with wild, hungry eyes. “keep talkin’ like that and i’m gonna lose it, i swear.”

“then lose it,” you purr, hooking a leg over his hip and using the leverage to grind yourself against his straining erection. he hisses, hips rocking forward to press the thick line of his cock harder against your aching center. “c’mon, sugu baby, show me how bad you want it. show me exactly what this bratty little tease does to you.”

“fuck, you fuckin’ - get her naked,” suguru snarls to satoru, already fumbling with the tie of your shorts. “fuckin’ get her naked right goddamn now, i can’t - i gotta’ taste her, gotta’ get my mouth on this sweet cunt before i fucking explode . .”

satoru doesn't waste any time, practically ripping your cami open in his haste to get at your bared tits. you cry out sharply as he latches onto one straining nipple, suckling hard and grazing the sensitized bud with his teeth. “oh fuck, oh god, yes!”

your shorts and panties are yanked down your legs, the sudden rush of cool air on your heated flesh making you gasp. and then suguru is shouldering past satoru to find his way between your thighs, pushing them open wide and burying his face in your dripping cunt with a guttural moan of satisfaction, “i call first,” he mumbles into your pussy.

satoru scoffs an agitated, “not fair, but whatever,” and you can’t help but to giggle at the sheer fact that they were quite literally bickering over who was gonna’ eat your pussy first.

“shut the fuck up — ”

“aht, aht! hey, all my munches get along so . . y’all about to argue all day or what?” you mutter, and as if they were being scolded back in their early sourcerer days - they hush, and then, “holy shit!” you whimper, back arching clear off the couch as suguru goes to town, licking and suckling at your clit like a man starved. “o-oh my god, sugu, you’re s’good . .”

“mm, y’like that, sweetheart?” satoru husks, sucking and then pulling off your nipple with a lewd pop. his hand palms roughly at your other breast, plucking at the stiff peak, drawing high, breathy cries from your throat. “like the way he eats this pretty pussy, fucks you with his tongue? gonna’ make you cum so hard you scream, baby, gonna’ make you fucking flood his mouth.”

“y-yes,” you gasp, fisting your hands in both their hair as suguru goes even harder, slipping two fingers into your clenching hole and pumping them in time with the relentless suction of his lips around your throbbing clit. “yes, fuck, m’gonna cum already, gonna’ come on your face sugu, please, fuck, m’ so close . .”

“that's it,” satoru coaxes, pinching your nipple viciously, making you yelp. “give it up, yn, fucking come for us like a good girl, wanna hear you scream . .”

suguru crooks his fingers just right, rubbing mercilessly against the spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and you shatter with a raw sob of their names. your cunt clamps down vise-tight on his thrusting digits as you gush around them, release flooding his chin and dripping down his wrist.

he works you through the aftershocks with hitching praises and soft kitten licks, only pulling away when you start twitching from oversensitivity. he rocks back onto his heels, wiping and licking around his mouth with the back of his hand and tongue, eyes hazy and satisfied as he takes in your wrecked, limp form. “fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, words edged with wonder. “shit - look at you, jesus, all fucked out and dripping just from my mouth. i told you i could spend hours between these thighs, baby, i wasnt lyin’.”

“h-hours, huh?” you manage, breath still coming in shuddery gasps. “that mean you’re done with me already, sugu?”

his eyes sharpen, a predatory curl to his lips that sends a bolt of heat straight to your core. “not even close, pretty girl. m’ jus’ gettin’ warmed up.”

“why don’t you let her catch her breath,” satoru suggests, something dark and intent in his gaze as his eyes rove over your naked, trembling body. he palms his cock through his sweats, hissing at the contact. “still gotta put that mouth to work, remember?”

your cunt clenches weakly at the implication, arousal already starting to rekindle in your veins. “gimmie’ a minute to recover and i’ll put it to work all night long,” you promise, licking your lips. “wanna’ choke on it, toru. want you to fuck my throat . . please.”

“jesus, fuck, you’re so nasty,” satoru groans, fisting a hand in your hair and dragging you up for a brief, brutal kiss. “gonna’ wreck you, baby. gonna’ fuckin’ ruin you for anyone else, mark you up inside n’ out until all you can think about is us, all you can feel is us stretching that hungry little pussy wide . .”

“oh please,” you whimper, already halfway there just from their words, their roving hands, the hot press of their bodies caging you in on either side. “god, please, i want it — fuck me stupid, i don’t care.”

“and we will,” suguru vows, fingers dipping back between your legs to circle your slick, twitching entrance. “gonna’ pump you so full of cum, baby, shit, gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt.” you keen high in your throat, the images they’re painting sending heat licking through your veins like wildfire. you want it, want them, with an intensity that’s scarce.

“so what’re you waiting for?” you rasp, disentangling yourself from their groping hands to shimmy off the couch and drop to your knees between their splayed thighs. you rest your palms high on their legs, thumbs teasing at the straining bulges tenting their sweats. “i believe i was promised a face fucking . . and y’know i hate broken promises. don’t make me beg.”

“brat,” satoru husks, eyes practically black with lust as he lifts his hips so you can tug his pants down his thighs. his cock springs free, thick and ruddy and leaking at the tip, and your mouth waters at the sight. “let’s see how cocky you are with your mouth full. won’t be able to sass when you’re chokin’ on dick.”

“choking? you promise, daddy?” you purr, shuffling closer on your knees, hands running teasingly up and down their thighs. suguru makes a strangled noise, hands clenching into fists at his sides like it’s taking everything in him not to grab you.

“open,” satoru demands hoarsely. “open that smart fucking mouth. lemme’ feed you.” you part your lips obediently, tongue darting out to swipe at the swollen head of his dick. he jerks like he’s been electrocuted, a guttural moan punching out of his chest as you proceed to lave at his cock like an ice cream cone, all kittenish licks and teasing flicks that have him cursing up a storm above you.

“gonna’ kill me,” he grits out, hips flexing like it's taking everything he has to keep from fucking up into your mouth. “yn, jesus, quit teasing and suck it, shit — suck it baby, please . .” deciding to put him out of his misery, you open wide and sink down, relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can. he shouts, hands flying to your hair as you set up a steady rhythm, bobbing and sucking and swirling your tongue until he’s leaking a steady stream of precum down your throat.

suguru is panting harshly on your other side, fisting his own cock with short, rough strokes as he watches you work over satoru. “look so fuckin’ pretty with a dick in your mouth,” he praises raspily, thumb collecting the bead of moisture at his tip and reaching down to smear it across your lips where they're stretched wide around satoru. “made to be a fuckin’ eater, weren’t you sweetheart? made for us, made to take what you’re given, aren’t you?”

you whimper around your mouthful, the degradation making your cunt clench up hard. you redouble your efforts, relaxing your throat and sinking down until satoru’s cock is nudging the back of your throat, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“holy fucking shit,” he wheezes, fingers tightening in your hair to hold you there. “oh my god, oh fuck, your fucking throat, m'gonna come, gonna come right down your slutty little neck . .”

“do it,” suguru growls, hand still fisting his own cock, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. “feed her that load, man, fucking paint her throat, make her gag.”

satoru cums with a hoarse shout, cock pulsing on your tongue as he empties himself down your throat. you swallow it all, working your tongue along the throbbing underside to draw out every last drop until he's shaking and pushing you off with an overwhelmed grunt. and you pull off with a gasp, lips swollen and spit-slick, chin wet with drool and the remnants of his release. before you can even catch your breath, suguru is grabbing you by the hair and dragging you over to his waiting cock, the head an angry purple and weeping steadily.

“looks like s’ my turn now, hm?” he grits out, tracing the seam of your lips with his cock, smearing the slickness around like obscene lipgloss. “back open, c’mon.”

you let your jaw drop wide once again, and then he’s pushing in, stretching your lips wide around his girth as he feeds you every thick, throbbing inch. he sets a punishing pace from the start, one hand cupped under your chin to feel his cock moving in your throat as the other winds tight in your hair, holding you still for his thrusts.

“oh fuck yeah,” he rasps, eyes fever-bright as he stares down at you, taking in your glazed eyes and drool-slick chin, the vulgar bulge of your throat. “takin’ it like a champ aren’t ya’? so pretty like this, baby. y’like it, like daddy’s cock buried in your throat like this?” you moan around him, looking up at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks and suck viciously — vacuum technique doing absolute wonders by the looks of it. he curses, rhythm faltering as his cock throbs warningly against your tongue.

satoru is suddenly there, pressing up against your back, arms banding around your waist as clever fingers find your aching nipples and pluck at them roughly. “your face is so pretty,” he husks in your ear, stubble rasping against your neck as he mouths at your throat. “it’ll look even prettier painted . . c’mon make him cum, you’ve earned it.”

the filthy words combined with the sharp mix of pleasure pain of his fingers on your nipples has you shuddering, cunt clenching down on nothing as a bolt of heat sizzles up your spine. suguru’s is close, you can tell by the way his thrusts are going erratic, his cock pulsing faster against your tongue.

“f-fuck, oh fuck, m’gonna cum,” he warns, high and tight, hips snapping forward once, twice more before he's pulling out abruptly, fisting his cock with desperate strokes. “open your mouth, fuck, stick out your tongue baby, wanna’ see it, fuckin’ shit!”

you obey mindlessly, tipping your face up and extending your tongue, a lewd, pornographic presentation. suguru loses it at the sight, shouting brokenly as his orgasm crashes over him, cock jerking in his grip as he paints your face with ropey streams of pearlescent white.

you moan shakily, back arching as some of his release hits your waiting tongue, the salty-musk taste of him flooding your senses. you feel debauched, utterly wrecked and still desperately turned on, your cunt a throbbing mess of need between your legs.

“holy shit!” suguru pants, slumping back against the couch, chest heaving. he takes in your cum - streaked face, the way you’re panting and squirming, still perched on your knees between them. “you’re a fuckin' vision, you know that? prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, all messy and marked up, fuck.”

“mmm, but she’s not finished though, are you baby?” satoru purrs, fingers drifting down to tease through your soaked folds, making you gasp and buck your hips. “look, she’s still hungry for it, so ready for more like the insatiable little slut you are. tell us what you need, sweetheart. tell us how you want us to wreck this pussy.”

“both of you,” you manage, voice a needy rasp. you reach down to circle your swollen clit, putting on a show for them. “want both you in me, filling me up t-til’ i can’t fuckin’ take it.”

“fuck,” satoru swears emphatically, cock already twitching with renewed interest. “yeah baby, we can do that, no problem. so sorry if we make you cry.”

“we gotta’ get her on the bed,” susguru demands, pulling you up and herding you towards satoru’s room. “need you spread out for us, wanna’ wreck you properly.”

you go willingly, eagerly, practically trembling with anticipation as they usher you into the bedroom, tearing their clothes off as they go. they descend upon you like men starved as soon as your back hits the mattress, hands and mouths roving over every inch of bared skin until you're writhing and keening beneath their attentions.

suguru pushes your thighs open and buries his face between them, groaning at the taste of your arousal. he licks into you like a man dying of thirst, tongue delving deep and curling just right to make you see stars. “fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to circle your entrance with one long finger, gathering the slickness. “absolutely soaked for it, aren't you baby? dripping for our cocks, greedy little pussy desperate to be stuffed full.”

“please,” you whimper, back arching as he pushes two fingers knuckle-deep, pumping them lazily. “oh fuck, g-getou, more, need more!”

“ive got you,” satoru rasps, rolling on a condom and slicking himself up with lube. he shifts up the bed until he’s bracketing your head with his knees, the thick jut of his cock bobbing mere inches from your face. “gonna’ give this filthy mouth something to do while sugu opens up your hungry cunt, yeah? gonna’ fuck your throat while he fingers you sloppy, get you nice and ready for us both.”

you open eagerly for him, relaxing your jaw as he feeds his cock past your lips. he groans at the wet heat of your mouth, at the way you hollow your cheeks and suck, working your tongue along the throbbing underside.

“there you go,” he praises roughly, grabbing a handful of your hair and giving a shallow thrust. “just like that baby, fuck, feel like heaven around my dick . .”

you moan around him as suguru works a third finger into your dripping cunt, scissoring and curling them just right to graze that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. the dual stimulation has you shaking, the obscene sounds of satoru’s cock gliding through the slick clutch of your throat and suguru’s fingers pumping wetly into your pussy filling the room.

“she’s good to go,” suguru declares after a few endless minutes, pulling his fingers free and wiping them clean on the sheets. he slicks himself up, shifting into position between your spread thighs. “gonna’ wreck this pussy, baby, you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this, wanted you. i think about you while i dream . .”

how could something said be so blended with both degeneracy and sweetness.

he pushes in on one smooth glide, the breath punching from his lungs in a guttural moan as your walls clench down greedily around him. “mm, what a tight fit. shit. gripping me, yn, goddamn.”

you sob brokenly around satoru’s cock as suguru bottoms out, hips flush against yours. he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, rolling his hips in deep, devastating grinds that have you seeing stars.

satoru keeps rocking into your mouth, hands fisted in your hair to hold you in place for his thrusts. you take it eagerly, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat but relaxing to let him push deeper, until your nose is pressed against his pelvis with every pump of his hips.

“m’ gonna’ cum down your throat again,” satoru grits out after a few minutes of spit-roasting you between them. “gonna’ get you all warmed up, honey.”

you moan helplessly, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe around his considerable girth. just as spots start to dance in your vision, satoru stiffens and curses, hips jerking erratically as he spills into your mouth with a hoarse shout. “there you go baby, breathe for me — agh fuck yes. choke on daddy’s dick, thas’ good girl.” he then pulls out carefully, cradling your jaw as you cough and gasp, chest heaving.

suguru is still working into you from below, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls almost unbearably good. you’re so fucking full of him, stretched around his thickness, but you still feel so empty, aching for more.

“please,” you rasp, looking up at satoru with wet, pleading eyes. “need your cock inside me too, need both of you fucking me, filling me, please.”

“such a needy little thing,” satoru marvels, eyes dark and hungry on your face. “gonna’ give it to you, baby, don’t worry. want me to stuff that pussy, hm? confuse you on whose is whose,” he laughs.

he slides down your body, shifting to kneel behind suguru between your lewdly spread legs. slicking up his fingers with more lube, he circles your stretched rim where suguru is steadily pumping into you, dipping just the tip of one finger in alongside his thrusting cock.

you keen high in your throat at the added stretch, the slight burn as he works you open further. suguru groans at the increased tightness, at the filthy drag of satoru’s fingers around his pistoning cock as he meticulously stretches you out. “god, look at you,” suguru pants, sounding absolutely wrecked as he stares down at where you're taking them both, hole straining wide and shiny-slick with lube and your own arousal. “pretty, little cunt all desperate for it, practically begging to be stuffed full. you want that, baby? want both of us crammed up in that pussy, wanna’ be our fuckin’ cocksleeve?”

“yes,” you sob, past the point of shame or restraint. “please, fuck, want it, want you both so deep in me, wan’ it to almost hurt . .”

“holy shit,” satoru swears feelingly, pulling his fingers free and lining his cock up alongside suguru’s. the blunt pressure against your already stuffed hole has you nearly hyperventilating, squirming down onto them eagerly. “okay, baby, deep breaths. gonna’ put both of us in, yeah?” you nod, and he pushes in hard, forcing his cockhead in alongside suguru’s with a devastating stretch. you wail brokenly, back bowing as you’re split open on their straining cocks, the burn of it so intense it borders on both pleasure and pain. but then suguru is rolling his hips and satoru is grinding into you and oh, oh it’s fucking perfect, the drag of them against your walls, the way they throb and pulse in tandem inside you.

“fuck,” suguru wheezes, sweat rolling down his temples. “o-oh fuck, fuck, fuck!.”

“m’ not gonna last,” satoru warns, voice absolutely shattered as he starts to move, drawing out only to slam back in, forcibly creating space for himself in your overstuffed channel. “yn, o-ooh, pussy’s stranglin’ me, baby — m’gonna cum.”

“do it,” you demand breathlessly, rolling your hips up to meet their thrusts, taking them impossibly deeper. “cum in me . . claim m-me.” with twin shouts they comply, snapping their hips forward one, two, three more times before they’re cumming hard, cocks pulsing in tandem as they empty themselves into you. you moan brokenly at the feel of it, of their release flooding your cunt, marking you up from the inside out.

they collapse against you as they come down, chests heaving and skin slick with sweat. you whimper as their softening cocks slip free of your abused hole, a river of come slipping out after them to soak the sheets.

“holy f-fuck,” satoru rasps after a long moment, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. “that was fucking crazy . .”

“and incredible,” suguru adds, sounding just as dazed. “yn, baby, fuck. we wrecked you, jesus.”

“mmm, you did,” you agree, feeling utterly boneless and fucked-out in the best way. “absolutely ruined me for anyone else, jus’ like you promised.”

“good,” satoru growls, something fiercely possessive in his gaze as it rakes over your limp, satisfied form. “because this pussy? this filthy, perfect pussy? it belongs to us now. you belong to us now . . .”

you glance briefly at the tv, dick drunk and pleasure high. part of you thinks you should probably pay your respects to the anime that facilitated this unexpected but very welcome turn of events, but the rest of you is preoccupied with trying not to black out as satoru and suguru keep their attention on you.

megan-sama, you think muzzily, just before suguru starts to nip at your shoulder again, bless your ratchet heart. you the real mvp.

and then coherency flees completely as your boys descend on you once more, cutting off anything resembling higher thought.

the last fleeting thing you remember is a deep, unshakable gratitude for your beautifully crafted body and the incredible dudes about to spend the foreseeable future worshipping it.

thick thighs save lives, indeed.

there’s only one you.

we love you meg.

[mariasont]

maria, i have an ideaaa!!

bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.

he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖

TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H

a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k

wc: 2k

A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.

You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.

You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.

There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.

"Hotchner."

His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.

"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."

"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"

You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.

"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"

You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.

"I'll text you the location, okay?"

"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."

You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.

You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.

"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.

He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.

"What?"

The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.

"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"

"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.

He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.

You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"

Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.

"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."

You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.

"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."

"I can't reach the sweatshirt."

You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.

A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.

"So do you wanna talk about it?"

You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.

"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"

Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.

"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"

You let out a delighted gasp.

"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."

The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.

"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."

"Your house keys?"

A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."

You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.

"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."

He made everything seem so simple.

"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.

His hands felt right on you.

He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.

"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"

"I'm certain."

"Okay."

"So why did your date make fun of your job?"

"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."

"Well, he's not entirely wrong."

You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"

You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.

You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.

You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.

"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.

Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.

You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."

He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"

"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."

Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."

"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"

You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.

You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.

You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.

He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."

He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.

"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."

But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.

Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."

"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.

He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.

He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.

Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?

"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.

He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."

It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.

"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.

Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.

"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.

Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.

"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.

"Devastatingly glad."

One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @averyhotchner @everythinglizzy @sky2nd

join my taglist here!

[ahmedpalestine]

In these harrowing moments, Jabalia Refugee Camp is under relentless assault. Israeli military tanks and aircraft are bombing the area of Sala Mazaya and Riyadh Al-Salihin, where our family home stands. A place once filled with beautiful memories is now a scene of destruction. They are not only demolishing the walls and stones, but also our dreams, our childhood, and every joyful moment we've ever had.

My relatives and neighbors are trapped inside their homes, unable to escape. They are pleading for help from the Red Cross, but no one can reach them because the army is everywhere, and the streets are soaked in blood and littered with bodies. The sky is dark, lit by the flames of warplanes circling above. These drones are hunting anything that moves, even in the narrow alleys.

I spoke to my loved ones, and fear echoed in their voices as if they were saying their final goodbyes. They are speaking from beneath the shadow of death, from the heart of this nightmare, and you now have the chance to witness death through the eyes of the victims. The sound of explosions is deafening, the sky is an orange blaze, and the chaos feels like the edge of the apocalypse. Women and children roam the streets, unsure where to go, their eyes filled with despair and terror.

This crime being committed against our people is a crime against humanity, against all of our feelings and dreams. We are not just numbers or names on a screen. We are people with hopes, emotions, and a longing for a dignified life.

In this critical time, we need your voice and support more than ever. Do not stop speaking about the atrocities being committed against the Palestinian people. Share this message, spread it across every platform. We need your donations, your solidarity, and for our voices not to be forgotten.

Every share and every donation is a step towards saving lives.

Vetted by bilal-salah0

Gaza-evacuation-funds

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45 @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid

@meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe @frustrated-froglet

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq

@vakarians-babe @appsa @paper-mario-wiki @bilal-salah0

@dlxxv-vetted-donations @turian @buttercuparry @imjustheretotrytohelp

@olovelymoon-slow-answers @akajustmerry @lesbianmaxevans @neptunerings

@thedigitalbard @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @fairuzfan @apollos-olives

@dragondemoness @ibtisams @postanagramgenerator @brutaliakhoa

@sayruq @anyonghalimaw @punkeropercyjackson

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

baby, ride me to the darkness of the night

“F-Fuck—Ughh—can you feel it, baby? Can you feel my big cock pounding into your pussy to the rhythm of the music?”

Of course you could feel it. Oh, you felt it all too well.

Falling for Gojo Satoru’s charm wasn’t exactly a challenge. One glance from him was enough to have you slipping your panties down, wet and ready, waiting for him. And once he was inside you? The sensations he’d bring were like nothing you’d ever felt before.

You hadn’t even wanted to go to the club tonight, but your best friend had insisted you needed to celebrate finishing your midterms with something fun. Begrudgingly, you’d let yourself be dragged along, realizing that the night’s control was no longer yours.

At first, you’d rolled your eyes and sighed. But after a few shots, you felt bold enough to dance. On the dance floor, grinding against your best friend, collecting every wandering gaze, you had no idea the most dangerous one of all had already undressed you with his eyes and was fucking you senseless in his mind. Not until your friend leaned in, whispering about the blue-eyed devil watching you from upstairs.

People had given him many names: “The Strongest,” “Blue-Eyed King,” “Perfect Face.” But to you, the only one that truly fit was “Devil.”

Devil always got what he wanted. Sometimes, he lured people into his games with wicked tricks. Other times, he simply waited, his prey crawling to him willingly.

When you glanced in the direction your friend indicated, it became clear the Devil had already chosen you for his game. And without a word of protest, you chose to be his willing sacrifice.

You had no idea when exactly his hand gripped your waist and pulled you away while you were dancing with your friend. You could feel the hardness pressing against your ass. In fact, it was impossible not to feel it. And you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering just how much harder he could get.

Well, testing it wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Turns out, the results were conclusive. So much so that the Devil himself—Gojo Satoru—couldn’t hold back anymore. He’d dragged you into the women’s restroom, pinning you to the wall, his lips devouring yours the moment you were alone.

And now? Now your legs were wrapped around his waist, your already too-short dress pushed up to your hips, while his thick cock plunged in and out of you.

Each thrust hit that perfect spot, leaving you delirious as the beat of “São Paulo” synced with the rhythm of his hips. Your back slammed against the wall with every stroke, driving you closer and closer to madness.

You were letting the club owner fuck you senseless in the women’s restroom—something you never would’ve imagined yourself doing.

“S-Satoru—sl-slow-slow down, it’s too much,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding music outside.

“Fuck no, baby. Haaah—I know you don’t want me to slow down. You just want more, you filthy little slut. F-Fuck, yeah—” he growled, his masculine rumble sending a shiver down your spine as he thrust into you harder and faster.

The sound of your bodies colliding echoed through the bathroom, but not a single soul dared to interrupt. It was as if, even through the blaring music, your shared moans were enough to warn everyone off. Nobody wanted to interfere with the Devil’s play.

And they had no right to.

“Mmmfp—I’m—I’m gonna—OH GOD, Satoru, I’m coming! Keep going!” you cried out, your voice trembling with the orgasm building inside you.

With one hand braced against the wall and the other gripping your hip, Satoru quickly moved his hand from the wall to your hip, using both to bounce you harder on his cock. It felt so good that you weren’t sure anyone else could ever fuck you this perfectly again.

“Shit—I’m coming too… You’re going to take all my cum like a good girl. Like *smack* a *smack* good *smack* fucking *smack* girl,” he hissed, accentuating each word with a deliberate thrust.

With a guttural groan, he spilled inside you, his head dropping to rest against the curve of your neck as his hot breath fanned across your skin. You could feel his semen dripping down your thighs as your legs trembled around him.

You closed your eyes, trying to process what had just happened.

You’d let the Devil ride you to the darkness. And it turned out, people were right—devil wasn’t a little red man with horns and a tail.

Sometimes, he had striking blue eyes and a massive cock.

a little note: i was listening to "são paulo" on the metro, and this idea came to my mind. this song definitely gives off Gojo vibes.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt3

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 4 is here. Find the AU masterlist here! Check out my MASTERLIST here.

"This is so unnecessary" you whispered to the man sitting behind you. "Everyone's staring." Your eyes scanned over the mass of people in town, as your horse passed through.

You thought you would get your own horse, but Baldwin had other plans apparently, as he just picked you up from your armpits and plopped you in front of him on his horse.

You could feel him smiling from ear to ear. "I think they're just in awe of your beauty. I would suggest getting used to the stares, now."

You rolled your eyes. "Dont flatter me. I know how I look, besides- I was referring to us sharing a horse. Its unnecessary and its why everyones looking at us."

"I think its unnecessary to get another horse for you. You dont know how to ride them, and believe me when I tell you- these horses are wild. I dont want you to get hurt when they kick you off." He teased.

You scoffed. Alright, maybe you werent an equestrian, but how hard would it be to ride a horse anyways? Didnt Baldwin learn to ride one when his right arm was paralysed and he had to do with his thighs mostly to control the horse?

"Still, I couldve gotten a carriage. Or better yet walked? Maybe even ride a horse with someone else-" You quieted down as you felt a pair of lips peck behind your ear.

"Dont even think about it. Why would I let anyone touch you, be this close to my princess-" his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back closer to him. "Wouldnt you prefer your soon-to-be-husband to help you instead?" He whispered as his hand slowly found its way to rest on your belly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you pulled his hand away and smacked it when it tried to touch your waist again. "Behave, Baldwin." You admonished with a smile as people looked at you. You dont want to create a scene (especially not one where history would report some lady smacking King Baldwin).

You getting flustered and angry only made him chuckle, as he leaned down to give the back of your head a kiss.

Enough with the PDA already. Arent medieval times supposed to be more conservative?

Ugh. Your lips formed into a thin line. Maybe he'll back off when you reach Salauddin and he sees how other Muslims act.

With some entourage accompanying you guys, you travelled away from the kingdom for almost an hour or so until you crossed that one sand dune beyond which Salauddin and his people were camping.

Before reaching the dessert, you had asked Baldwin if he had something that you could cover yourself up with. You want to adhere to the customs and not accidentally piss off one of the greatest Muslim rulers. Sure, you could've worn something more concealing before leaving the castle, but neither of you wanted people to know that you two were going to meet Salauddin.

Baldwin nodded and in one swift motion, he had removed his cloak and wrapped it around you, bringing the hood over you.

"But- what about you?" you looked back at him with wide eyes. People didnt just wear full length clothes back then just because of modesty, but also to protect their skin from sun damage.

He smiled. "I'll be fine, princess." No, you wont. And you're not risking yet another historical change by having the king of Jerusalem getting skin cancer.

Immediately, you tore off the bottom of your tunic and made a keffiyeh (a headdress) which covered both his head and his face. "There, now we can go."

From the keffiyeh, only his eyes were visible, which crinkled up. "Did you cover me up because you dont want women staring at me in awe?"

"What? Of course not. You just recovered from leprosy. Your skin would be sensitive to the harsh sun and heat of the desert-" He cut you off by laughing lightly.

"Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say."

As you neared the camps, you saw men dressed in battle armour coming out of the tents, and you from the way he walked, the way he dressed, even his mere presence could make you recognise Salauddin from a mile away.

The horse stopped and Baldwin got down first before helping you down. You followed him as he walked towards Salauddin, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. An erie silence settled all around you, the sound of air whooshing being the only thing audible for a few moments. Salauddin stared into Baldwin, while men from both sides glared at each other, one hand on their swords, ready to fight.

"Salam alaikum." Baldwin spoke first.

Peace be upon you.

You heart dropped for a second when Salauddin didnt reply back immediately. With your hood covering your face, you couldnt exactly see his expressions, only resorting to his body language and sounds to anticipate his mood.

Salauddin's lip quirked up. "Walaikum asalaam." He opened his arms and both men embraced each other for a few moments and you could feel the tension around you finally melting away as men from both sides finally started conversing with each other normally now that their kings were talking amicably.

Salauddin patted his back and raised a brow at you. "Who taught you the keffiyeh to cover that sore face of yours?" Baldwin chuckled. "My fiancee- Y/n, princess come here will you?" You walked closer to Baldwin. "This is Y/n, and we're both here today to invite you to our wedding. Darling, say hi, will you?"

You gulped. "Assalamu alaikum".

Salauddin's ears perked up. "Walaikum asalam. That was perfect pronunciation. Have you been taught by Arab scholars?"

"About that..." Baldwin chuckled nervously. "Y/n, why dont you go there with the ladies? They seem pretty eager to meet you." Salauddin nodded his head and a couple of women, all wearing burqas approached you. "This is princess Y/n. Take good care of her." Salauddin told them as they took you to their tent, where only women remained.

Meanwhile, Salauddin let Baldwin in to his tent.

"So, whats the secret?" Salauddin asked as he sat down, beckoning Baldwin to do the same.

He took a deep breath. "Y/n is... a Muslim."

Salauddin blinked at him. "What?"

"She's Muslim." He repeated. "So could you just tell me about the Islamic wedding ceremony? Nikkah, right?"

Salauddin stared at him. "Are you joking?"

"No."

"You cant marry her, Baldwin."

"Why not?"

"Because she's a Muslim and you're Catholic!"

"So? I havent seen it stop Muslims from marrying non muslims."

"No- only muslim men can marry non muslim women. It doesnt work the other way around."

"Salauddin, thats sexist."

"Its not sexist- nevermind, I cant help you understand it. But no, you cant marry a Muslim woman."

"What if... shes not Muslim?" Salauddin gave him a puzzled look. "I... believe Y/n may be using religion as an excuse not to marry me."

"If she doesnt want to marry you, why do you wanna marry her?"

"She does want to marry me, she's just... confused. Look, Salauddin. She cured me- CURED leprosy. This doesnt happend to anyone. She- she has something holy about her. How else do you explain this miracle?"

"So what? You think God and what- Jesus? chose this girl for you? That they gave her healing hands to cure your disease? You think shes of divinity?"

Baldwin smiled softly. "I do." Salauddin rolled his eyes. "Youre infatuated with her, Baldwin. Its temporary. She performed some magic, or tricks and you think she's divine? Do not make a fool of yourself."

"Then explain how I suddenly got well, Salauddin. Youve travelled the world, you sent me your best Arab healers, you believe in sciences- explain to me how I was cured of my incurable disease."

Salauddin gazed at the young king. "Let me guess, she claimed that she's been sent by Almighty God to cure the King and save Jerusalem, and in return, you must marry her or give her your throne to fulfil some prophecy?"

Baldwin chuckled, leaning back against the ottoman a bit. "Actually, she's been denying that she did anything to help me, she keeps on making excuses to marry me, she avoids my affection- and if I'm being honest, attention." Salauddin's eyes furrowed a bit. What game are you playing?

"Maybe... Black magic?" Salauddin is well aware of witchcraft, its been mentioned by his religion too.

Baldwin shrugged. "She's far too angelic to be associated with that. I'm sure there would be prominent signs if she was involved in any sort of magic or witchcraft."

Salauddin was about to reply but just then, his guards came running in.

"Salauddin! There's a sandstorm coming!" Immeadiately both kings sprung up.

"Tie up the animals! Tell everyone to get in and take cover!" Salauddin barked orders at his men.

The women in your tent were immediately informed of the situation and they quickly started taking measures, with the men outside helping to nail down the tent and gathering the baby animals and children, bringing them inside the tent.

You got up to leave and go to Baldwin, but the women pushed you back down, telling you its not safe to leave.

"The storm is here! You can't leave now!" Well, alright then. You plopped back down on your seat, when you heard someone cry out loud and your eyes immeadiately saw the liquid on the floor.

Of course it was the pregnant lady.

The woman had went into labour and everyone rushed to help her. Everyone but you. Nuh uh, youre not meddling in this time, lest anyone else accuses you of having magic healing hands.

Another harrowing scream pierced through the room, with the harsh winds threatening to blow away the tent adding on to the tension.

Maybe I could just stand near them, just to make sure they are using proper hygiene. Or actually just to see how midwifes worked in the past. Yes, its for science.

You stood near the midwifes, out of their work field because you dont want to be an obstacle. Of course, you may have had caught the sight of the poor woman and her... vagina, which youre ashamed to say has made you sick to your stomach because child birth is not a beautiful phenomenon and fuck this shit youre never having babies.

After almost an hour, the baby was finally out. The stench of sweat and blood and the nightmarish sights you'd caught glimpses of had made you want to throw up when suddenly the enviorment turned gloomy. And it hit you.

The baby wasnt crying.

The mother who was previously crying from labour, was now crying due to a different kind of pain.

You felt for her, you truly did. Carrying a child for 9 months, making sure to take every precaution, not to mention the constant prayers for a healthy baby (and for some, specifically a boy) otherwise the mother would be blamed.

The midwife put the dead baby in the bassinet beside you before tending back to the grieving mother, who was still bleeding from down there.

"Poor Fatima." You heard one of the women whisper to her friend. "To wait for 8 years before she finally conceived... only for her child to die before he could even take his first breath."

Your heart broke as you heard them, the woman sobbed inconsolably. You turned your head to look at the baby in the bassinet and subconsciously, you wondered what went wrong.

Doesnt look like he was choked by the umbilical cord... and he doesnt look cyanotic either, so he probably wasnt dead inside the womb. Your eyes widened. Maybe-!

Your hands went to pick up the baby before halting mid air. No. No. I cant interfere- I cant mess with history more than I already have. I cant save a child who was destined to die-

Your head whipped to the woman who let out a shrill, devastating cry, begging God to let her son live.

Fuck it. You picked up the baby. Maybe this baby was destined to live.

Immeadiately you checked for breathing before putting the baby on a table nearby and placed two fingers on the left side of his chest, starting compressions.

"1. 2. 3-" you muttered under your breath, trying to recall what was drilled into your head when you were attending first aid classes. Pinching the baby's nostrils, you breathed into his mouth, eyes watching as his chest rise and drop. You repeated the compression set 2 more times when the baby finally took a huge breath and began crying.

Picking up the baby, you ran towards the bucket of water and started cleaning the baby's head and face off the mix of blood and amniotic fluid, while massaging his back and his feet to encourage him to breathe on his own.

After a few minutes, you turned around to cover the baby with a cloth swaddling him up nicely and thats when you finally looked around you.

Everyone was staring at you in shock, the sound of the baby crying echoing the silence.

Shit. You rocked the baby gently as you handed him to his mother, who also looked at you in shock with tear streaks on her cheeks. I hope... they didnt see me do CPR.

Yes, damage control. Thats what you need to do. You cleared your throat. "Um- yes, Allah has blessed you with a beautiful son. Lets be grateful to Him." And the women slowly began talking again and agreeing, some saying that they'll go give sadaqah (charity to please God) while others were going to go pray.

When you turned around, you saw Baldwin and Salauddin standing at the entrance of the tent, the former having a beaming smile while the latter looked in surprise.

Maybe it was the stench of sweat and blood in the room, maybe it was emotional situation you went through (high key nauseating), or maybe it was the mix of amniotic fluid and blood on your mouth from when you saved the baby, but the next moment, you lost consciousness.

-

When you woke up, you noticed you were in a different, much bigger tent. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up with a groan.

"You're finally awake." You looked up to see Salauddin sitting at his desk in the other corner-

Salauddin? Your hands went to draw your hood over your face but you realised your (or well, Baldwin's) cloak had been replaced with a cotton niqaab that veiled your entire face except for your eyes.

Standing up, you looked in his direction. "Where's Baldwin?"

You heard him chuckle darkly. "He left."

"He left?" You heard him walk over to you, and instinctively you took a step back, narrowing your eyes at his audacity.

He towered over you, face neutral as he looked down at you. His hand gestured to his right, where a chess set was placed on a table.

"Do you play?" He asked, eyes never leaving yours.

Hesitantly, you nodded. He sat down, beckoning you to do the same.

"Ladies first." He let you start the game. "I should tell you though- if you wish to leave out of this place alive, you'll have to win."

What the shit? Is this some sort of psychological game? Or is this actually happening? I mean, people in the medieval times were crazy. Just because he's muslim shouldnt excuse him from insanity.

You picked up the white pawn. "Where is Baldwin?"

"I told you, he's gone." He moved his black pawn. "He sold you to me."

You looked up at him. What? "Focus on the game. You do not wish to know what will your fate be if you were to lose this game." You immediately picked up your bishop and moved it.

Salauddin clicked his tongue as he took your bishop. You moved your pawn again. "Why- why would he sell me? I'm his fiancee." You asked, your eyes never leaving the board. You're playing for your life here.

"Well, when we saw you use black magic to save that baby- oh, I took your other pawn too, mhm-" He smiled as he looked at your furrowed brows. "And then I told him that you cant be a muslim if you were using black magic."

"Black magic? When did I use it?!" you asked exasperatedly as you lost your knight.

"We saw you muttering something when you were "saving" that child." Muttering? When was I muttering? "One of the ladies even said they heard you whisper some repetitive words to a tune too."

Repetitive words-? You wanted to bang your head against concrete when you realised he was referring to you doing compressions to the rhythm of Stayin Alive by the BeeGees. This one is not your fault because the instructor taught you guys that.

"I was not doing black magic. Even so, who are you to decide if I am a Muslim or not?" You moved your other knight.

"I am Salauddin Ayubi-"

"So?" Salauddin looked at you.

So? So? No one has ever dared to ask him questions.

"Your real name is Yusuf. Salauddin is just a laqab, hm?" Your eyes never left the board as you made your move. "Do you think you're above me? Above Baldwin? Above anyone?" You didnt let him answer as you gestured at him to continue the game. "I dont recall you being a prophet. I dont remember you being a caliph even. So, Salauddin tell me what gives you the right to judge if I'm a muslim or not?" You asked as you took his pawn.

Salauddin narrowed his eyes at you, making his bishop take another pawn of yours. You didnt let it deter you as you practically snatched the same bishop of his with your rook. "Just because youre a muslim, you think you have the right to judge me?"

He scoffed at your words, making his move but you took yet another black pawn. "I am a Muslim. I was born in a Muslim family-"

"Exactly." You took more of his black pawns as he took your white ones. The board was mostly empty now. "You were born in a Muslim family. Do you honestly believe your Lord is happy with you because you were born in the right family? Is that the essence of what being a Muslim is?" Salauddin now looked at you but you didnt let your eyes stray away from the chess board. "Are you a Muslim because you were born in a Muslim family? Or were you born in a Muslim family because Allah knew you wouldnt find your way if you werent? If you were born in a catholic family, youd be a catholic? Lets say you are a Muslim, how do you know youre a good enough Muslim who can judge me? How do you know Allah will let you in heaven when youre on Earth declaring so and so is doing magic and isnt a muslim? Only Allah can judge us, not you Salauddin Ayubi." You stated calmly as you made your final move. "Thats checkmate."

You finally looked at him, your eyes holding satisfaction at his distressed face, though he masked it well.

How you wished to reveal to him that he was playing against a grandmaster whose parents made her take chess as a hobby since she was 6 because they believed it would make her smart and get into good colleges (it did. Thanks mom and dad.)

"Salauddin, we can play chess all you want but dont lie to me. You know I wasnt doing magic, and you know that I know that Baldwin wouldnt just leave me behind. So please, tell me, where is Baldwin?" Before he could reply, you continued. "Remember, lying is a sin."

At this, his eyes finally showed amusement. "He's outside, helping the women sew a niqaab for you. He wants to embroidery a flower in or something." You rolled your eyes at that. Of course, leave it to Baldwin to do cute romantic stuff.

Salauddin leaned back in his chair as he studied you. "So, how did you bring the baby back to life?"

"I prayed to Allah." He quirked a brow at you. "I also cleared his nostrils. They were plugged with fluid, so he didnt know or couldnt breathe with his lungs. Then I just warmed up his body a bit and he was crying- the baby was never dead. You know that no one can be saved from Azrael if Allah has written for that person to die."

Angel of death.

He gave you a nod, though his eyes watched you curiously. "How were you so sure that I knew you were a Muslim?"

You shrugged. "I just did." Why wouldnt you know when he was playing chess with you to check your psychology? Not to mention, he allowed you to be covered with a niqaab even when you were unconscious and let you stay in his tent? If he even doubted that you were a non muslim, you more than likely wouldve been treated far badly.

Salauddin chuckled. Of course, youd keep your secrets. "Then you know that as a Muslim woman, you cannot marry anyone of another faith."

"I dont plan on marrying Baldwin." You scoffed. "I already rejected him and have tried to sway his mind, but hes set on his decision. I think he actually believes that Im an angel or something divine."

He quirked a brow at you. "So he's forcing you to marry him?"

"I wouldnt say force- well, actually I would say that. But he doesnt treat me badly or anything. He's very sweet, even when I avoid him."

Salauddin clicked his tongue. "I could help you." You looked at him. "You are a Muslim, a part of the ummah. I could-"

"No. If youre suggesting starting a war, no." "Well, not a war, youre not that important." Damn. He grinned at your offended eyes. "I meant, I could send some people to sneak you out or-"

"No, if Baldwin finds out youre involved in any way in my escape he would-" you cant risk an extra crusade happening because of a damsel in distress, aka you. It would put the fate of Jerusalem at risk as well as the fate of the Ayyubid dynasty.

Wait. Ayyubid dynasty. They ruled over Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Yemen and so on. But Egypt was the learning center of the Islamic world during this time because they focused on arts and education which meant they hosted the world's greatest scholars there.

"Salauddin, can you get me to Egypt?" The king of Egypt, or sultan of Egypt looked at you quizzically. "I can, but why? Do you have family there?"

"What? No, I'm not running away to Egypt. Look, I just-" you cant explain to him about your escape plan that you were going to use the help of scholars to help you make the tools which you can use to fix your broken time machine. So, you lie. "You're someone who enjoys learning, right? I know you like history and sufism, and I would just love to get to know more about it."

With his head resting on his palm, he studied you. You intrigued him, and although he sensed you had ulterior motives, he agreed. "I cant take you there personally because I am busy here, but I could send you there with some trusted men." You smiled under your veil. This is exactly what you want. And almost as if he could sense your glee, he continued. "Your madly-in-love fiance wont send you alone, or at all."

"Let me worry about Baldwin, and he'll agree because I'm not running away. I'll work on my escape another way in which no one has to die." You said, finally standing up and walking out of the tent to find Baldwin who was sitting with the other veiled women, his eyes focused on the needlework.

"Baldwin." You called out with your hands behind your back as you walked upto him.

He looked up and his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of you. "Princess!" He stood up and immediately went to hug you but you stopped him before he could, nodding your head at onlookers. "Oh right, sorry." He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, ears turning pink as the women giggled.

He then picked up the niqaab he'd been working on, the blue cloth matched the color of his eyes. "Look, I made that flower." There was embroidery done on the sleeves. And of course, amongst the mass of tiny, delicate pink and white flowers, Baldwin made the biggest, slightly wonky flower.

It brought a smile to your lips. Gosh, he's such a-

You shake your head. No. No. You cant.

"Its beautiful, Baldwin. Thank you." He grinned at your praise, nodding his head as he folded it up. Still holding the embroidered niqaab in his hand, he walked over to Salauddin and shook his head. "We should get going now. Thank you for hospitality, Salauddin." The Kurdish nodded. "Of course. You're always welcome. And if you have any more questions about our traditions and rituals, dont hesitate to reach out to me. Although your wife to be seems quite knowledgeable on the subject herself." Your eyes widened every so slightly. Did Salauddin- did he just acknowledge that you're not as dumb as he thought you were.

Baldwin smiled before leading you towards his horse, helping you get on it.

Salauddin watched as your entourage left, and his mouth twitched.

You have piqued my interest, Y/n. He called his right hand man.

"We still have spies in Baldwin's castle, right?" The man confirmed. "Excellent. Have them find out all they can about lady Y/n. And prepare a small entourage ready to go to Egypt."

"Wont we be staying here, sultan?" The man asked, confused as to why Salauddin would be leaving Jerusalem this early.

"We will, but I will make a short trip in between."

Of course, Salauddin cant just let you go to Egypt alone. The sultan will have to make proper arrangements to welcome you there.

And to find out what you're really there for.

He returned to his tent, his eyes landing on the chess board. Walking upto it, he looked at how you had defeated him.

Salauddin smirked, using his finger to knock down the white king.

It'll be fun to make Baldwin jealous.

Part 4 is here!

[ariestrxsh]

🍕 content warning: smut, praise, jealousy, masturbation, oral (f! & m!receiving), edging, begging, unprotected sex, light choking, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!boss!reader

🍕 author's note: this series follows sub!pizzaboy!chris and his tendency to mix business and pleasure. in part one, he sleeps with a customer after delivering pizza to her. in part two, he sleeps with a cop that pulls him over for speeding. now he must use his magnetic charm to seduce his boss to avoid getting in trouble for coming back late from a delivery.

🍕 summary: you can't help but get a little jealous when you find out your favorite employee, chris, has been sharing his meat with everyone but you.

pizza guy part three

"That delivery should have only taken twenty minutes. Why did it take you an hour and a half?" You inquired, peering up from the nightly paperwork at Chris, who had just walked through the front door of the otherwise empty pizza shop.

He could immediately feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you.

Chris was your best employee when he wanted to be, but he was constantly pushing the boundaries with you and taking advantage of how much you let him get away with. You could never fire him, though, and he knew that.

He had too many redeeming qualities. He was always covering shifts, bringing in good reviews, and working without complaining. He was also extremely polite and had a lot of respect for authority, always calling you ma'am and asking what you needed from him.

Chris' only downfall was that he couldn't help but mix business and pleasure - always getting high on the job and entertaining the women who were metaphorically lined up for him in between deliveries and sometimes on deliveries.

He always had a good excuse, though. And when he didn't have an excuse, he'd turn on the charm. He saw the way you looked at him, your hungry gaze that would linger for a few seconds too long, and he recognized the need in your voice, every word coated with lust. He knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he wasn't above using that to his benefit.

"Chris. Where the hell have you been?" You repeated, interrogating him. "Sorry, ma'am.." he apologized, forcing a pout. "I got pulled over," which wasn't technically a lie. "Oh, Chris. You poor thing," you responded, your tone immediately changing as you walked over to him, giving the sweet boy a hug.

"Did you get a ticket?" You wondered, cradling his flushed face. "No, ma'am. Almost. I think the police officer has a little bit of a crush on me," Chris said, his blue eyes flickering back up at yours as he tried to hold back a smirk. Can't blame her, you thought, studying his handsome features as his seemingly innocent smile stared back at you.

You detected a scent on Chris, one you could recognize anywhere and one you'd already addressed with him. "Chris. Are you stoned right now?" You glared at him, looking at the redness in the whites of his eyes, dropping your hand from his face. "What?! No!" He objected defensively, avoiding eye contact.

"There's no way you just got pulled over. If a cop looked at you for longer than two seconds, you'd be in the back of the cop car in cuffs right now. I bet you were at your dealer's house," you accused him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm not lying, ma'am. She did put me in cuffs," Chris responded, his cock stirring in his jeans as he recounted the events that took place earlier in the night. "You mean to tell me, you went from being cuffed to walking away without even getting a ticket?" You shot him a skeptical look.

He showed you his wrists, pointing out the red marks left behind from the metal that dug into them under the weight of himself and the cop while she riding him. "Don't worry about how I got off, ma'am. All's that matters is that I did," Chris responded, his gaze locked on yours.

You bit down on your lip, imagining Chris in restraints, offering to do anything to keep a clean driving record. You knew it was wrong. After all, he was your subordinate, but that was another reason you could never fire him.

He was so hot, and he knew it. He had this way of looking at you and talking to you when he knew he was about to get into trouble that immediately made you melt. You couldn't stay mad at him. Not even if you wanted to.

"Chris, you gotta be careful. I don't care you if you smoke weed, but you can't keep doing it on the job! You could have gotten yourself into big trouble tonight!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look.

The truth was, you'd bail him out of jail if you could, but as much as you wanted to protect Chris from the consequences of his actions, you could only do so much when it came to the law. "I'm only hard on you because I care about you," you whispered, caressing his cheek.

"I know, but it makes me feel so good. Don't you like things that make you feel good, ma'am?" Chris asked, a bit of seduction seeping into his tone. You stood in silence for a moment, studying his pretty blue eyes and his pouty lips as he looked you up and down. You avoided his question.

"You know, Chris. I read a really interesting review someone left a while back about you while you were gone," you smirked, sauntering back over to your desk and pulling up the review on the computer. "Was it a good one?" He wondered, his facial features softening as he hoped you were about to start praising him.

"I don't know, you tell me. 'Their driver, Chris, has the best Italian sausage in town. He always goes the extra mile to please the customer,'" you read it word-for-word. "What could she have meant by that, huh?" You wondered with a bit of jealousy lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"I think she just really liked my meat, ma'am. I mean, the shop's meat," he corrected himself, giving you another sultry smile. "Is it the shop's meat? Because I certainly haven't been getting any," you remarked, glancing down at the outline of his half-hard cock in his jeans.

"Oh, ma'am. It would be so wrong," Chris purred, secretly enticed by the moral complexity of the idea of sleeping with his boss. His eyes dropped to your figure as his imagination took over, picturing how certain parts of your body would jiggle while riding him.

"Makes it even hotter, doesn't it? How wrong it is? What do I have to do to get a taste of your meat, huh?" You asked, getting up from your desk and slowly making your way towards him again. "All's you have to do is ask, ma'am," Chris responded with allure in his tone, taking a step closer to you.

"Well, I finished everything while you were getting pulled over," you smirked. "Why don't you come home with me, sweetie? It's the least you could do. I'll take really good care of you," you flirtatiously responded, leaning in and kissing his neck. You took both his hands and placed them on your waist.

"Oh, yes, ma'am. Please take me home with you. Take good care of me," he whimpered as he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, immediately giving into your advances.

Your lips were so soft, and Chris couldn't get enough of the way they felt on the sensitive nerve endings on his neck, sending blood rushing to the tip of his cock as a few luscious moans escaped.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You cooed, running your fingers along the bulge in his pants as your kisses grew slower, deeper, and more passionate. "Yes, ma'am," Chris mewled, grinding against your palm.

"Down, boy," you said, smiling and petting his package through his jeans as you retreated from kissing his neck. He nearly sobbed when you pulled away. "Oh, ma'am. You're so cruel. Getting me all riled up when we still have a long drive ahead of us," he whispered, already feeling lightheaded from the way you handled him.

"You were cruel first. Leaving me here all alone while you entertain other women. Don't you know how bad I need you here with me, Chris?" You wondered, your words drenched in envy as you delicately ran your hand across his chest.

Of course, you meant it in a professional sense, needing him at the store to help you close up, but you also meant it in a much more primal sense, and he did know. He'd known for a while now, but Chris wasn't the type to make the first move. He'd been waiting for you to finally say it. He nodded.

"Show me how bad you need me," he seductively whispered, tempting you. "Let's lock up, shall we?" You said, taking Chris by the hand, leading him towards the front door, and shutting off all the lights on your way out.

The two of you stepped out into the dark, chilly night, the breeze biting at your nose and stinging your lungs as you inhaled. You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, and you tugged on the freezing cold handle for good measure.

Chris followed you to your nice, shiny, black SUV and climbed into your passenger seat. You started the ignition, your engine roaring as it turned over. You turned on the heat, placing your palm in front of the fan, waiting for the air to warm up.

Chris was still rock hard, his eager cock straining against the denim fabric he wore and his mind swirling with the possibilities of what you were going to do with him once the two of you made it back to your place.

"So, what really happened with that cop?" You deviously wondered, glaring at him before looking back at the road you started down. Chris blushed. "She handcuffed me and put me in the back of her car. Then whatever you think happened is probably what happened next," Chris smugly suggested.

You bit your lip, letting your imagination run wild. "And the customer, Chris? You naughty boy," you clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head. His head fell lazily against the headrest as he peered over at you with a submissive expression.

"Ma'am. I promise I'm a good boy. I don't have a naughty bone in my body," Chris lustfully responded, his cock beginning to twitch in his pants as his eyes danced over your lips, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around him. "Well, maybe one," he quietly admitted, shifting around, trying to adjust his aching erection.

"Take it out for me, Chris," you demanded. "Right now?" He asked, an upward inflection in his voice as his brows flew up. "Yes. Show me that pretty cock that the girls can't get enough of, hmm?" You hissed, placing your hand on his thigh and making it jump again. "Yes, ma'am," he nodded, unclasping his belt, undoing his button, and lowering his zipper.

Your eyes shifted between the road and his dick, favoring one more than the other as he started to pull it out. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slightly open at the sight. "You like what you see, ma'am?"

You couldn't find the words to describe just how much you did, so you settled for a subtle nod. Its size was intimidating and intriguing all at the same time. He went to wrap his long fingers around his veiny shaft, but you swatted his hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could play with it," you teased him. He gave you a pout, his brows turning up in a look of anguish. "But I need it," Chris whined.

"I thought you said you were a good boy, hmm? Don't good boys listen and do what they're told?" You purred, playing upon Chris' praise kink and his need for your approval. He hesitantly nodded. "Then behave, Chris." You lightly patted his thigh again, driving him mad with your touch. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Why don't we play a game? And if you're a good boy and play the game correctly, then I'll let you touch with it," You suggested, running your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "What kind of game?" Chris wondered, eager to let his hands wander below his waist.

"The kind of game where you tell me what happened with that customer who left that review while you stroke yourself, but you have to do exactly as I say. And you better listen and tell me exactly what happened or else you're in big trouble," you told him.

"But ma'am, I'm gonna get in trouble with you anyway," Chris quietly pouted, worried you were going to fire him for lying about his slashed tires that night.

"Oh, Chris. You could never be in trouble with me as long as you tell the truth," you cooed, softly running the back of your hand along his cheek. "You promise?" He timidly asked. "I promise," you replied, and you meant it.

"Go ahead, Chris. Start touching it," you voiced, giving him permission. His hand moved towards his cock, firmly gripping it, and he let out a relieved sigh as he started slowly stroking.

"So, tell me, Chris. Who instigated the interaction? You or her?" You interrogated him, glancing between the road and his swollen head, a wet patch forming on the front of your panties. "She did, ma'am," Chris told you.

"Did you go inside her house?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm not supposed to, but.." Chris started to say. "But what? Answer me, Chris."

"Yes, ma'am. I did go into her house," Chris whimpered, his gaze meeting yours. "How'd she get you to stay, hmm?" You purred, watching Chris' facial features soften as he relaxed into his pleasure.

"She made me a cup of hot cocoa and started kissing my neck. She told me to call you and give you an excuse as to why I couldn't come back to work. Told me she'd make it worth it," Chris admitted, looking nervously at you with his blue eyes.

You gasped. "You naughty boy," you narrowed your gaze at him, a little annoyed that he had faked an excuse to get out of work but a little turned on by the fact that he'd done it to get his dick wet. "She made me call you while she was sucking me off," Chris replied, a smirk forming in the corner of his pink lips.

"You called me while she sucked you off?" You repeated what he just told you to make sure you heard him correctly. You squeezed your thighs together as you pictured him on the phone with you while he had his cock in another woman's mouth. "Mhmm," Chris nodded, pumping his length faster as it quivered against his palm.

"Slow down, Chris. You're gonna have to make yourself last a long time, so don't get too carried away," you smirked at him, thinking about how long you were gonna make him wait to finish. He took a deep breath and slowed the pace. "That's very naughty of you, sweetie," you responded in a voice just above a whisper.

The rest of the drive to your destination, you teased Chris, trying to extract information from him about his most recent sexual encounters, and he spilled the details to you relunctantly. Despite his hesitancy, his cock gave him away, jerking at every word you spoke that jogged his memory.

"Did she ride you, Chris?" You provocatively asked, and you watched it twitch again, listening closely as a soft whine passed through his lips. "I think she did.." you answered your own question, giving him a playful smile.

"You like it when the girl's in charge, don't you? You love to be bossed around in bed," you insinuated, and you watched Chris blush and nod in response as he ran the tip of his thumb through his precum, spreading it around on his sensitive head.

The banter between you and Chris was enticing to say the least, and the whole time you were soaking wet, buzzing with excitement about what Chris would be like in bed and how good his pretty dick would feel lodged inside of you while you bounce up and down on it.

You saw how close he was getting as you turned onto your street, and before he could finish, you stopped him. "Be a good boy, Chris. Put it away for a second. His eyes were filled with hurt and desperation, but he nodded and did as he was told.

Once you pulled into your garage, you turned to Chris, gently grabbing onto his hair and pulling his face just a few inches from yours as you locked your hungry gaze onto his.

"Look. Normally, I'd invite you in, give you something to drink, offer you something to eat, show you around. I don't have the fucking patience for that right now, Chris. What we're gonna do is go straight to my room, and you're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use you however I want for as long as I want. Got it?" You demanded.

Chris obediently nodded, his face conveying desire. You took Chris' hand, leading him in through your warm and cozy house that smelled like apple cinammon. You guided him up your stairs and into your bedroom.

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, your mouth crashing into his as the sexual tension between the two of you built to an all-time high. His pretty moans vibrated against your lips as you reached under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against his hip bones as you hooked them onto the hem of the material.

You pulled away long enough to pull his uniform off over his head, and you quickly dropped to your knees. Chris looked down at you, wetting his lips as he silently begged you with his eyes to do what he thought you were going to do. You unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and pulled down his pants and his underwear.

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as if you were getting ready to please his cock, but you couldn't let him finish without a little more teasing. Instead, you retreated, standing to your feet as a look of disappointment seeped into Chris' expression.

It was just as hard for you as it was for him. You'd imagined this scenario a hundred times, and you couldn't wait to hear the pretty sounds he'd make while you suck on it, but the fact that you'd been waiting so long for it, made you want to savor every moment, every kiss, every touch..

You gently pushed him back onto your bed, and his eyes danced over you while he propped himself up on his elbows as you shed off your own layers, letting them fall to your feet. You climbed on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss as the two of you rolled around on your silky soft sheets.

"Be a good boy for me, Chris. Let me sit on your pretty face," you demanded from him, but it didn't take much persuasion. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice," Chris eagerly replied as you gently pushed him down, guiding him to lie flat on his back.

You straddled his face, placing your knees on either side of his head and lowering your pussy onto his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue explored your folds, flickering back and forth over your sensitive clit.

You entangled your fingers in his messy hair, and you gently tugged on it, causing him to moan against you while his eyes rolled back in his head. The vibration that passed through his lips reverberated against your vulva, pleasure rushing through you.

You gently rocked your hips back and forth, riding Chris' face and grinding against his silky, wet tongue. You peered down into his gorgeous blue eyes as you combed through his brown locks. "You're such a good boy, Chris," you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips as he wrapped them around your bundle of nerves and started tenderly sucking on it.

"Yes, sweetheart. Just like that," you encouraged him. He nuzzled into your heat, relishing in the lovely sounds that left your lips and the way you rutted against his face, all testaments to how good he was making you feel. He could eat you for hours.

He reached up and grabbed your breasts, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. He moaned against your clit a few more times as he delicately sucked on it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. You felt pressure building in your lower stomach as you tightened the grip of your thighs around Chris' head.

"Good boy," you whimpered again, your body beginning to shiver as your pleasure reached a crescendo. His cock twitched at your praises, and his hands moved to your waist, stabilizing you as he admired the way you looked from this angle.

He took your clit between his lips and gently tugged on it until you were coming undone. You threw your head back and started fervently grinding against his face, losing yourself in your orgasm as you released onto his tongue.

He lapped up every last bit of your wetness, savoring the sweetness that filled his senses. Once you were completely satisfied, he removed his mouth from your pussy. "Did I do a good job, ma'am?" Chris asked, his big, blue eyes staring back at yours with his chin covered in your juices.

"Oh, sweetheart. You always do. You were perfect. Such a good boy," you purred breathlessly as you ruffled his hair once more, starting to lift yourself off of him. "Get comfortable, sweetie. Let me take care of you," you cooed.

"Yes, please," he politely answered, nestling among your mess of pillows and propping himself up against your headboard. He loved it when you took charge. He kept his eyes locked on yours as you placed yourself between his legs.

He'd been hard for the past hour, desperate for you to take it into your mouth, but you were still savoring every moment, and he secretly adored all the teasing. You drew a line from the base of his dick all the way up his length with your soft tongue, and it twitched in response.

You gently kissed his tip, slurping up the shiny, clear fluid that was slowly leaking out as you slowly stroked his dick. He let out a soft, pleasured sound as your tongue made contact with all his sensitive nerve endings, and you started delicately flicking it across his swollen, pink head.

"How's that?" You asked in a soft voice. "So good," he whined as you started combining the two techniques, sucking on it while your tongue got to work, fluttering around in the best-feeling places. Pretty noises poured from his lips as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly on his length and learning every vein with your tongue.

He smiled down at you and tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head, silently asking you to take more of him. You listened by sliding your lips all the way down his shaft until he was hitting the back of your throat. He gasped as you took it all so effortlessly. "How'd you learn to do that, ma'am?" He whimpered, peering down at you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as you chuckled, humming around the base.

You sped up your movements, sloppily drooling and making a mess all over his cock. "Please let me cum. Please," Chris moaned, his luscious voice spilling into the air. Despite how politely he asked, you took him out of your mouth long enough to give him a smirk and shake your head no.

"Please, please, please," his jagged breaths becoming whiny and needy. You ignored his begging and continued your pace, bringing him dangerously close to the edge before withdrawing all stimulation. He let out a few strangled moans as his cock twitched some more, begging to be sucked on again.

You loved how responsive he was and how his body language reacted to every subtle touch. You wrapped your lips around him again, and a stream of lustful noises flowed from him. You looked into his blue eyes that were silently pleading with you. You could see how desperate he was, which made you want to edge him even more.

"Please," he whispered again as if you didn't hear him the first half a dozen times he asked for you to let him finish. "You're going to have to be a good boy and wait," you teased him, removing your mouth again and shifting around on the bed. He responded with a subtle nod.

You began to straddle him, guiding his rod towards your entrance, and you let out a delighted hum as you lowered yourself down onto him. Chris' head gently fell back and tapped the headboard as you squelched around him.

"Oh, Chris. You're so big," you moaned. "So I've been told," Chris chuckled. He couldn't help how much that compliment stroked his ego. You started to ride him, your breasts bouncing in his face as he latched onto your nipples, tenderly sucking on each one. His hands wandered towards your ass, and he squeezed your soft flesh, whimpering against your chest.

"Good boy," you praised him as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head. You leaned down and started sucking on a sensitive place on his neck, and he whined into your ear as he tried to hold on while you were actively working against him. "Please let me cum," he asked again patiently and politely with desire in his expression.

"Not yet, pretty boy," you cooed into the crook of his neck as you continued lightly sucking on it. Whimpers escaped his mouth as you picked up the pace, your strides becoming faster and rougher. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he tried to hold on to please you.

He was always able to hold the different perspectives of you in his mind, both the professional view he had of you and the sexual desire he felt toward you. He couldn't help but delight in the way the two versions of you merged in front of him. He'd always loved how bossy you were, but the way you were ordering him around in bed gave your bossy nature a whole new meaning to him, and he adored it.

He loved the way you bounced on him, your moans becoming louder and more urgent. He could feel you clenching around his cock, which made it even harder for him to fend off his long-awaited orgasm.

"Please, please, please," he begged some more, losing his composure. "Please let me cum, ma'am," he sweetly requested, his dick already beginning to throb inside of you. He wasn't exactly asking for your permission but more or less warning you that he couldn't hold off anymore.

"Yeah? You wanna cum?" You asked, peering into his bedroom eyes and examining his flushed, pink cheeks and the way he kept licking his lips. "More than anything, ma'am," he whimpered, his eyelids growing heavy and his mouth falling open.

"Only because you've been such a good boy," you commented, caressing his jawline with your thumb and moving your hand to his throat. You gripped his neck, lightly choking him which sent him over the edge.

A few strangled moans passed through his lips as his eyes rolled back and his head gently thumped against the headboard again. His climax hit him like a freight train, barreling through him and sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.

He shot his load up into you as you finished onto him, the room filling with both of your satisfied sounds. You involuntarily dug your nails into the flesh of his neck, intensifying how good it felt for him. You slumped forward, pulling him into a warm embrace as you throbbed around him.

"Chris, I've been wanting to do that forever," you breathlessly whispered into his ear. "Maybe I should make you jealous more often, huh? It really seems to get your attention," Chris smugly remarked, smirking at you. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to try to get my attention. You just always have it."

taglist: @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweets @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668 @fratboychrisera

[rafesangelita]

can you do like a spin off to the fic you did where rafe went to the strip club, and instead of them making up y/n stands on business and leaves 😭? thank you if you do i love your writing smmm

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i heard y’all loud and clear, i hope you guys like this version just as much, if not more <3 based off of this request

“fuck, they don’t make them like this on figure eight.” you watched with watery eyes as rafe’s hands roamed the body of a stranger, his friends hollering in the background. seeing rafe receive a lap dance should’ve been enough for you to click out of instagram and call it quits, but you couldn’t help yourself in watching the rest of kelce’s stories. after skimming through the rest of the photos and videos, you didn’t have any tears left in you to cry.

getting up on shaky legs, you took everything you could fit in a suitcase, ignoring the calls from rafe as you went around your shared bedroom, grabbing your things. just as you were taking your last bag downstairs, the front door opened, revealing the last person you wanted to face right now. “what’s all of this?” your head shot up at the voice, your lips swollen from biting on them so hard. “what’s wrong?” he moved close, making you back away.

“please don’t touch me.” your voice came out weak. rafe scoffed, blinking rapidly as you took a seat on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “what’s wrong with you? why do you have all your shit down here?” he kneeled in front of you, the smell of cheap perfume filling your senses. “you should probably remind your friends to hide me from their story ‘next time you want to let someone put their boobs in your face.” you sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he reached for your arm. “baby, please, i can explain everything.” you smiled, shaking your head. “you don’t have to. i really don’t care anymore, i’m leaving.” he narrowed his eyes at you, stumbling over his next words. “w-what the fuck are you talking about?” he grabbed two of your bags, about to take them upstairs before you stopped him. “this isn’t the first time you’ve been unfaithful, rafe, and if i don’t leave right now, it won’t be the last.” your voice cracked.

he shook his head, jogging upstairs, only to see you had cleared everything that belonged to you. rafe’s heart dropped, it looked like you had never been here to begin with. panic settled in his gut. “you can’t leave, i won’t let you.” he came back down, his eyes filled with guilt. “i already have a car on the way.” rafe shouted, punching the air. “y/n, i’m begging you baby, please let’s just go to bed-” you watched him cry, and for the first time you felt nothing. “we’ll forget all about this in the morning, alright? i’ll take you somewhere nice for breakfast, we could spend the day on the druthers the way that you like.” by the way he was talking, it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than you.

“and sweep it under the rug just like the last few times? no.” you laughed bitterly. “you cheat and time and time again i don’t do anything about it. i’m so tired, rafe. ‘tired of hearing the women at the country club call me ‘dumb and clueless’, i’m tired of everyone giving me pitiful looks everytime we walk inside a room.. i’m tired of not being valued.” you looked down at your hand, removing the promise ring that clearly didn’t mean anything.

“hey, hey, come on,” he pulled you up, “i value you, you know i do. i get you everything you want, goddamit, i take care of you!” you flinched at the volume of his voice. “i could get myself whatever i want rafe. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be faithful, and you can’t even do that.” he watched as you glanced outside. “my ride is here.” he blinked, everything hitting him all at once. “y/n, stop.” he held you in place, not allowing you to move until you shoved him.

“there’s someone out there who is going to love me, and care about my feelings in all situations, someone who isn’t selfish.” you started rolling your suitcase out of the house, rafe following closely behind. “please don’t leave!” he ran his fingers through his hair. he begged and begged until you held the very last bag in your hand. “i hope one day you meet someone like yourself, fall in love with them, and realize that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.” he watched you get into the black suv, feeling nothing but despair as the car drove away.