Wicked Fantasies Part 10 (MBJx Black OC)

A/N: sooooo this is just nonstop angst. Hence the gif selection and I am sorry lol we get into some tough shit. So warnings include: severe depression and negative self talk, harassment, etc. But as always enjoy! And remember… I’m a HEA girlie through and through ☺️

Hell on Earth was the only appropriate descriptor for the last 24 hours of Raven’s life. Trapped in her apartment due to the spectacle of paparazzi camped outside her building, her only activity was laying in bed unmoving hour after hour in the fetal position. She was grateful to Melody for taking her shift, she did not know if she would have been able to find the strength to get up to go anyway.

Raven tried her best to avoid social media but laying in her bed staring at the ceiling did not provide much distraction from the agony that coursed through her. This hurt eclipsed any pain from a physical wound that she had ever felt. It was paralyzing. And scrolling, even if she had to wade through stories and commentary on her own life as if she were a fictional character from the world’s latest Netflix obsession, offered some reprieve from thinking about him.

He consumed her every thought despite wanting nothing more than to rid her brain of him. But his claws were in too deep and even blocking his number had not offered relief when the only thing she wanted was to seek comfort from him. Her heart ached for him as if it would never be right again without his presence, his touch. But her brain would not allow her to call him or even unblock him. He was the curse, the disease… she certainly would find no cure in him.

The negative orator in her head called him a liar, reminded her that she did not deserve him and he knew it, which was why this all happened in the first place. So she stayed in her small ball in the corner of her bed fighting the urge to call him or break down into sobs again.

Her roommate checked on her every couple of hours and that was the sum of her human interaction since she left Michael’s house. She did not want to see or talk to anyone. So she didn’t. Her phone remained on DND, every call and text going unanswered. She knew she only had a few more days of this. The library had taken her off the schedule for a week, citing a need to figure out how to deal with the safety concerns this situation brought. But Raven knew the truth, the only available solution would be to let her go. Another job down the drain because of her terrible choices, because the only setting she seemed to know was self destruction.

That was all she knew how to do it… ruin her own life and the lives of everyone around her. She did not even speak to her family anymore and still knew, from her sister’s nonstop texts and calls that she didn’t respond to or answer, that even they were feeling the burn of her choices. Of course, Kiara was not wasting the opportunity to snag herself another 15 minutes of fame but she did not say anything worse than what Raven had already seen from strangers or did not already believe about herself.

Tears sprang to her eyes as thought about her own role in every bad turn and mistake her life had taken that led to this moment. She could blame Michael and her family but perhaps it was finally time to own that they were all right: it was her. She was the problem.

She chose to sell her body, even when she was in college as a dancer, to make a quick buck. She chose to do the same as an adult, she chose to enter into Michael’s ring of lies and she let him play as the fool. She could hate him but that meant she would also have to hate herself.

And acknowledging her hate for him was far less excruciating than examining how she brought this collapsing building right down on herself.

***

“What happened?”

“Damn, nigga. Can I get through the front door first or get a hello?”

Michael let out an impatient sigh and shifted out of the way so Alex could walk into his foyer. He had been a nervous wreck since she called an hour prior asking if she could swing by the house to talk. He had deleted social media from his phone so he did not have to see the vitriol being hurled at Raven. He did not care what people said about him but Alex literally had to stand over his shoulder and watch him delete every app to stop him from responding to every disgusting comment he read about her.

While his plan may have worked in popular media outlets and with sensible people online, he severely underestimated the contingent of very loud incels and pick-mes who would blame Raven regardless of how the story was presented to them.

“My bad. Hey. What happened?” he asked again, his tone signaling that he was not in the mood for Alex’s signature attitude. He needed answers and he needed them now. He would have time for pleasantries again and everything else when Raven forgave him. Or even just answered his phone calls and texts.

Michael gestured for Alex to follow him to the kitchen where he had been helping his mom and dad cook dinner. Or rather helping in between wearing a hole in his floor due to his incessant pacing and complaining about when Alex would arrive.

“I”m not gonna show you unless you calm the fuck down.” One side glance from his mother had Alex cringing at herself. “Sorry, Ms. Donna.”

The older woman merely nodded as she returned to her task of chopping vegetables.

“Well, I’ll start with the good news. I checked in on all your endorsements and deals and they said as long as this situation doesn’t evolve any further, they have no interest in dropping you. People still love you for some reason. And it’s been a week, so if old… partners were going to come out, they would’ve. All our Creed 3 press is still set but I had to do some rearranging now that the Oscars are set for the second weekend in March. So you’re going to Mexico City this weekend to get a head start. And we still have your interview slate for the Oscars set. You’re in for a busy six weeks… I know what’s going on with Raven is a lot but I need your head in the game, Mike. Seriously.”

“Alex! I don’t give a fuck about an interview schedule. What did you hear about Raven?”

“You know it’s literally my job to manage your career, not your continuously screwed up love life, right? Sometimes I worry you have it confused. But yes, I do have news on Raven too. Which is mostly… well all bad news. Most of the conversation has moved on. People are still attacking her on social but that’s not all that surprising. Vultures are still circling her apartment, not as many but a couple every day. Today was the first day she left the house in a week to go back to work. But… she got fired.”

Michael paused his pacing in shock. He knew how much that job, however she came to need it, meant to Raven. It had been a refuge during one of the most painful times in her life and his actions had stolen that from her.

“WHAT?”

Alex scoffed. “I told you our plan wouldn’t be without consequences, Mike. It just had the least amount of them. You can’t be surprised. She worked at a public library with kids and the entire world found out she was a prostitute. She was probably an at-will employee so they don’t even need a reason to fire her. But paparazzi surrounding her job every day and idiots calling to campaign to get her fired is more than enough for most places. But that’s not… that’s not the worst part.” Alex’s stiletto tipped nails tapped against her screen a few times before she tossed it down on the kitchen island. “A contact at TMZ sent me a video a couple hours ago. They aren’t gonna post it,” she assured him. “But there were plenty of cameras so someone else might. Just forwarded it to you.”

Michael moved quickly to open his email, his body equally wrestling between wanting to see whatever this was and being afraid to. But he knew he did not have a choice. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he pressed play on the video. The TMZ reporter had their camera trained on Raven as she tried to fight her way out of the back exit to her car in the parking lot. It was from earlier today, Michael realizing that she must have gone into her shift only to be let go. However, she was not simply fighting through a sea of flashing lights and insensitive questions. There was also a small group of men hurling insults at her as she fought through the crowd.

“I guess niggas really don’t be having jobs cause who has the time to post outside of someone else’s job to harass them?” Alex muttered to no one in particular as Michael’s attention and focus remained trained on the video.

The words of everyone else in the video were just static to him because his eyes and attention were squarely set on Raven. His soul felt as if it was splintering into millions of pieces as he watched her. Despite the meticulous makeup painted and her stoic poker face, Michael could still see the sorrow and exhaustion in her eyes. He had seen such a look in her eyes before and it hurt then, but now it was somehow worse. A fatal wound because this time, it was his fault. He would not need a video for that look to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He continued watching despite wanting nothing more than to get in his car and race to her apartment. The video was chaotic as the cameraman tried to keep up with the mob of cameras and people and keep the focus on the woman at the center of the storm. Michael did not understand what happened when Raven suddenly stopped moving, her poker face gone as one of pure terror took over.

Michael’s eyes frantically searched the frame of the video for what changed, even pausing it for a moment, until he noticed a hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm. He watched as she frantically pulled against the force of the person but their grip was too tight. And he could hear the whimper of pain in her words as she begged him to let her go.

The altercation did not last long when one of the cameramen was able to break the man’s grip on her and Raven scurried off to her car, her eyes brimming with tears.

Michael forced his phone to go to sleep as he squeezed it in his fist. Michael usually existed at an emotional equilibrium but his rage felt all consuming. Is this what seeing red felt like? When your anger was so blinding, you could not see or think of anything that did not fuel that fire? The entire internet had become Inspector gadget to find Raven’s job and address to harass her but would they do the same for that guy? Someone who tried to do her harm? Michael merely wanted five minutes alone with him to exercise all that rage at someone who deserved it.

He did not say a word as he marched past Alex and out of his kitchen to the foyer where he kept his car keys and wallet. He grabbed both and angrily stomped out to the garage, his thoughts set on nothing other than seeing Raven. Even if he was only able to lay his eyes on her for a moment, he needed to see her. In the flesh.

“Michael! Mike! Stop! Stop!!” Alex raced after him, quickly catching up with him despite her high heels. Her hand grabbed the door of his car before he could fully climb in. “Where are you going?”

“To Raven’s.”

Alex’s arm jerked the car door away from him as he tried to pull it closed. “You need to give her time. You’re probably not the nigga she wants to see at her door right now. And… there are still cameras around her house. You don’t need -”

“You think I give a fuck about someone seein’ me go there?? Get outta my fuckin’ way, Alex. Now.” His voice lost its usual kind tone as he glared at her, his barely contained rage seeping out into the garage around them like thick smoke.

Alex’s grip loosened but she did not acquiesce fully. “At least let me come with you.”

Their standoff continued for mere seconds before he caved and gave her a few moments to get into the passenger’s seat. If allowing her to go with him was the only way to see his girl then he would let her ride along. But she would not be able to stop him from doing a damn thing, he knew that much.

They did not speak as he raced through LA to get to Raven’s apartment. He did not wait for Alex to get out or say anything as he walked into her building and made a beeline for the elevator. Before he knew it, he was banging on her door like the police had shown up.

“Ok calm down, we don’t need the whole damn floor filming this for that damn clock app,” Alex grumbled, Michael essentially ignoring her as he continued banging until the door flung open.

Her roommate stood there, a confused look on her face for a moment, before she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Raven’s closed door.

“I need to see her.”

“I don’t think she’s up for visitors,” the young woman responded, her tone leaving little room for arguments. She tried to close the door but Michael stuck his foot in the doorway and stopped her.

“She doesn’t have to talk to me but I need to see her. Let me in.” Michael knew he had no right to demand entry into someone else’s home but he was at a loss, his hands were tied.

“What he means to say,” Alex stepped forward, pulling Michael back slightly, “is that he just wants to see she is ok after today with his own eyes. And then we’ll leave, I promise. Two minutes, that’s all we want. Please?”

“I’m not gonna force her to see you. You can wait here while I ask.”

She left them at the doorway to show themselves inside as she went to knock on Raven’s door.

“Raven? Can you come out here?”

He heard shuffling from behind her closed door before it cracked open. He could not see her but he could hear her voice, small and broken. A sound he never wanted to hear again. He was supposed to be the solution to her pain, not the cause of it.

“I d-don’t want to see him.”

“I just need a minute, Rae!” Michael did not wait for the invitation as he walked up to her door and gestured for her roommate to move out of his way. “Just let me see you… please.”

Raven leaned her head against the door frame as she debated whether to comply. Something in her demanded that she slam the door in his face. But her first on her doorknob merely shook as if she could not force herself to do it, her limbs refusing to obey her brain’s orders. She did not want to see him.

Whatever bandage she was using to stop the bleeding of this wound was immediately ripped off and her hurt flowed once again like blood at his mere presence. She could not even look at him, or rather was afraid to. Afraid that if she looked into those eyes, she would believe whatever sad tale of love and care he brought to spin for her this time. She could not fall for that again. With him or anyone else. And yet, her body still wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, bury her nose into the nape of his neck and breathe in him. His signature cologne, his natural musk that had grown to represent a sanctuary for her.

She forced herself behind the ice walls she had spent a week building. She was too weak to survive without them. Those barriers and their harshness were the only thing that had dragged her out of bed to go to her shift, which lasted a total of an hour before she was fired. She was not surprised but preparation had not made it an easier experience. She had been proud of herself for holding it together, walking out with her head held high. That is, until the utter debacle outside the library.

Michael had always been the one who the barriers came down for. But now, his presence made them grow higher and higher as if to protect David from Goliath.

She stepped back and opened the door just enough for her face to be seen. She did not look at him though, keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind him.

“What? The paparazzi videos aren’t enough? Need to see your destruction in person? There, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Her voice was cold, colder than he ever knew her to be toward anyone much less him. It was being stabbed in the chest and having the knife twisted for effect. Made all the worse by the fact that she could not even look him in the eye.

“Rae… baby girl, please. I just want to make sure you are alright after today… between the library and that guy. Just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

A mere week ago, Raven would have melted like a childish lovesick school girl at “baby girl,” at his care and devotion to her. But today, her heart had to remain cold for her own preservation, safely tucked behind the ice walls she erected.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that. And it’s not the first job I’ve lost, I’ll survive. Whether or not I’m hurt or employed shouldn’t matter to you. You made it clear you don’t care.”

“It does matter to me. You matter to me. Did he hurt you?”

“Bruises heal… This one will too. It’s the other wounds I’m not sure about,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “You want me to read you some of my DMs? Compared to what they all say they want to do to me, I got off easy with a bruise. So now you know. I don’t want to repeat myself again. Get. Out.”

“I’ll do anything, Rae. Just talk to me, hear me out. I didn’t mean for this o-or any of this to happen like this. Let me fix this. Or at least let me protect you.”

She shook her head, refusing to listen to a word he had to say. In one ear and out the other. It was all lies. “No. You can’t fix this. I don’t want your words, your lies, your apologies, or your protection. I don’t want anything from you ever again. You wanted me out of your life just like everyone else I know so you got your wish. Come back here again and I’ll call the police.”

And with that, she slammed her door in his face, leaving him standing awkwardly in the living room with Alex and her roommate. He simply stood there like a statue, mouth agape with his apologies on the tip of his tongue, staring at her closed door for a few moments.

“You heard her. You should go.”

With her roommate’s echo, Michael forced his legs to move. However, before he could get far, he stopped and grabbed a spare piece of paper and pen that was left discarded on their counter. He jotted down his number and pushed it into her hand.

“Tiffany, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I’ll give her space cause that’s what she wants. But anythin’ happens like today again, call me. Please.”

The young woman eyed him intently and stowed the paper away in her pocket before Michael walked out of the door with Alex in tow. As they stepped into the elevator of her building, Michael unleashed his pent-up frustration by punching a hole into the side of the elevator, an action that only caused a rippling pain to shoot up from his knuckles.

“Well that was decidedly stupid. You’re gonna have to get that looked at.” Alex shook her head. “She’s not ready yet, Mike. And for once, you’re not in control of how this goes. She needs time. Give it to her. But she’s ok today, that’s all that matters.”

Michael’s unbruised hand massaged his knuckles as they walked to his car. He sat in his seat silently for a few moments.

“You think she’s still in danger?”

“I think people on the internet often forget the people they’re attacking are real people. Most of this will stay online and be fine but we can’t predict the people who’ll do what that guy did today and take it to the real world. There’s just… no way of knowing.”

Michael sighed and nodded. “Get me a list of bodyguards. Vetted. She doesn’t want to see me, fine. But she’s gonna get protection whether she likes it or not.”

“You can’t force her to have a bodyguard.”

“You got me in Mexico City, Paris, London, New York, and Miami for the next month. You think I’m steppin’ on a damn plane with niggas tryin’ to attack her? Get me the fuckin’ list.”

“I know shit is fucked right now, Michael, but you can’t stop working just because your girlfriend is mad at you.”

“I don’t care about work right now, Alex!”

“Maybe you should! Maybe I shouldn’t be the only one holding your fucking career and reputation together while you spend all your energy making bad decision after fucking bad decision.”

Michael’s entire body whipped around to face the passenger seat, the anger he had pushed down beneath the surface already bubbling to the top. He was a powder keg and unfortunately, Alex was the spark.

“Oh so all of this is my fault?? Tasha fuckin-”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Stop blaming Tasha! She’s trash, she fuckin’ sucks and backed you into a corner but it’s not all on her, Mike! I’m not one of these fuckin’ yes men whose gonna shield you from accountability just to pad your fuckin’ giant actor ego. You fucked up, Michael. You. You could’ve ended it with Tasha as soon as you realized you were in love with Raven, but you didn’t. You strung her along because it was easier than admitting your feelings. You could’ve taken any of the millions of opportunities to admit what was going on to Raven like I told you and you didn’t. You wanted to play big man and stick it to Tasha instead of focusing on the person that actually mattered. And you didn’t want to admit that you were still talking to her. You didn’t leak this out of some purely noble intentions. This didn’t just happen to you. You caused this because as good of a guy as you are, you always do what is easiest for you instead of what is hard. So you and Tasha made this fucked up bed together. Own that shit and stop wallowing in it like a fucking bitch baby.”

His grip on the steering wheel was nearly painful as her harsh words sank in. And as difficult as they were to hear, as much as they clashed against the narrative he was clinging to, he knew they were not untrue. While it was far easier to lay the whole debacle at Tasha’s feet, he knew he was not blameless in what happened. But he had underestimated how torturous it would be to see the consequences of his own actions, how it would gnaw at him day in and day out. And the only way he was even surviving day to day was wrapping his brain tightly in the narrative that he did what was best. Without that protective blanket, he did not know if he could survive seeing the destruction he caused.

“Damn tell me how you really feel.” He banged his fist on the steering wheel a few times. “I just… I feel like I can’t do shit else till I fix this. Till she forgives me.”

Alex took a long deep breath before reaching over and squeezing his hand. “I know… but her forgiving you and you fixing the damage this all caused may not be the same thing. You don’t get to control when she forgives you and your life can’t stop until she does. If she does. Fix what you can, keep showing up where you can, and the rest is on her.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then she doesn’t. And that has to be ok too.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I’ll have the list of bodyguards for you by noon tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll get on that plane on Friday? And that your head will be focused on your career, not her. Give me six weeks Mike. Press tour, world premiere, Oscars and then you can chase after her like a lost puppy all you want.”

“Yea I promise. I know how hard you’ve worked for all this… ain’t gonna let you down, Alex.”

“I get paid either way. You earned this. Care more about not letting yourself down.”

And with that, Michael peeled off the curb of Raven’s apartment building and started their trek back to his home. The entire ride Alex’s words tumbled in his brain. He had been so focused on convincing Raven to forgive him when he did need to give her space, as excruciating as that was for him. But space did not mean he could not work to fix the very tangible things his decisions had ruined for her.

“Did you ever get that list of Black agents and publishers that rep fantasy novels?” he asked randomly as they pulled back into his spot in the garage.

“Yea, pulled it a while ago.”

Michael walked Alex to her car, which sat out in front of his house.

“Good. Any on the list you particularly like?”

“One of them’s a friend and if I’m being honest… She is the list.”

“Aight. Let’s game plan that on the plane ride after our interview prep”

Alex leaned against the hood of her car, smiling at him. She patted him on the arm and gave him a smile. “There’s the Michael B Jordan I attached my career to. Welcome back.”

He merely rolled his eyes and smiled. He was a man of action. He would wait a hundred years if that was how much time and space Raven needed. But her not wanting to see him did not mean he could not continue to be what he had always been for her: the first person who took care of her.

***

A knock at Raven’s door forced her out of bed. She had not made much effort to leave the comfort of her own bed since losing her job. She had been able to save up enough from her dates with Michael to save a decent safety net. She would have a couple months before she needed to think seriously about what was next and how to pay rent. She savored the cushion. Her thoughts were an utter mess so she certainly was not mentally strong enough to plan.

As she walked to her front door, her phone started vibrating.

Kiara

She had been avoiding her calls like she was the bubonic plague. She knew why she was calling. To gloat and rub salt in Raven’s wounds. She could almost hear the vitriol Kiara would throw at her without even answering the phone. So she didn’t. She did not care to. She decided to just wait her out, if she ignored her calls enough, she would eventually give up… right? After all, it had almost been two weeks.

Raven had not heard from her dad at all, which she did not know whether to be thankful for or add that to the list of wounds that would not close. Some small part of her would have hoped that, despite them not speaking since the holidays, that he would check in on her after all of this. But she had done all of them a favor when she cut them off. They wanted her out of their lives and she wanted them out of hers. She knew she should no longer care what either of them thought of her.

She sent her call straight to voicemail as she opened her door to find an extremely tall, brooding bald man with shades standing outside her door. He kind of reminded her of what a secret service agent in movies looked like.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Raven Turner?”

“Why do you want to know?” She kept the door knob in her hand in case she needed to push it closed. She thankfully had not had any crazies approaching her at home, small comfort. But perhaps, that was about to end.

“My name is David Brooks. I’ve been hired to be your bodyguard. May I come in?” Raven’s eyes grew wide as he tried to make a step over the threshold to her apartment. She immediately stepped into his path, using her body and the door as shields.

“You think I’m just gonna let you in cause you say you’re a bodyguard?? I didn’t hire a bodyguard. And I don’t need one. So you could be a serial killer with an elaborate ruse for all I know. Leave.”

“You should know that no serial killer would choose a ruse so specific. And apartments are a foolish place to murder someone, too many eye witnesses. And if I was here to harm you, I’d already be inside. Your door certainly would not stop me.”

“You know you are not really inspiring trust, right?”

“Apologies. It is just frustrating how obsessed the average American woman is about being murdered by a serial killer when statistically, it will never happen. But I digress. Just because you do not believe you do not need a bodyguard, does not mean you don’t.” He reached under his arm and handed her a neat folder of papers. “Resume, background check… much of which is redacted. Security reasons. And he said you would be a reluctant principal so I included the latest research and data on how cyber attacks and stalking can turn violent. Now have I inspired trust?”

Raven took the folder out of his hand and flipped through it quickly, her small stature still blocking his entrance to her home. Her eyes skimmed each page, which included everything about this man except his damn social security number. He seemed legit and even the parts that were not redacted in black highlighter seemed terrifying. But she did not budge from her protective stance in front of her home. She still did not understand.

“Who even hired you??” There was no one in her life that cared enough or could afford to hire her a bodyguard. Well no one except…

Fuck.

“Michael B. Jordan. Any other questions or may I come in so we can discuss your security? Do you do this often? Talk to people in your doorway? Because that will need to end immediately.” His eyes glanced up and down the hallway of her apartment.

Raven let out a deep exhale of frustration and stepped aside, allowing him in. Mainly because she did not want their standoff to continue in her hallway for one of her nosy neighbors to see.

“Don’t get comfortable… you won’t be staying.”

How dare he? She thought to herself. Why can’t he just leave me the fuck alone!

She angrily grabbed her phone off of the kitchen island where she had discarded it. She was too pissed off to feel many other emotions about hearing his voice as she unblocked Michael’s number and hit the call button. She had not spoken to him since he showed up at her apartment days prior.

Ice walls, ice walls, she told herself as she prepared to hear his voice. She forced herself not to read into the fact that it only rang once before his voice started to fill her ear.

“Rae! Lis-”

“Fire him,” she demanded, cutting him off. She had no desire to hear anything he had to say to her.

There was a still beat of silence before Michael’s voice filled her ears again, steaming with the dominance she once craved and yearned for.

“No.”

“I’m not kidding, Michael.”

“I ain’t laughing, Raven. You aren’t ready to talk to me, you aren’t ready to see me, fine. But I’m not gon’ let you fend off paparazzi and randoms alone. And I can’t be there. So he stays.”

Anger coiled in her belly causing her to immediately raise her voice. Every fiber in her being hated him.

“So he can report my every move back to you?? Fuck no. And fuck you. The only reason I would need protection is because of what you did. I’ll never be ready to talk to you and I want nothing from you.”

She could tell this was a losing battle but she fought regardless. She could not handle this shadow following her every second, a visual reminder of him and the fact that he cared about her. But everything in her told her that he didn’t care about her. His actions had made that abundantly clear. This was nothing more than a complex manipulation… like everything else he had done to her since the night they met.

“He’s not obligated to report anythin’ back to me, I promise. I’ve dealt with the paparazzi and crazy fans longer than you. It actually can be dangerous. And I’m traveling and doing all this press so it’s not gonna die off until I’m out of the spotlight in a few weeks. So until then, he stays.”

Raven forgot that Michael was officially on his giant world press tour for Creed 3. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, hear how it was going and how he felt. But she could not allow that either. She did not care about his career. She did not care about him anymore.

“I don’t need anymore help and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t want it from you.”

He let out a sigh that sounded almost… sad? Raven shook her head. She was not going to give in, waver, or break. He was one of the best actors of her generation and that was all this was: an act.

“I deserve that shit. I know it. But I’m not gonna apologize for carin’ about you even if you hate me.”

The back of her eyes stung at his words. She despised it, she did not want to feel this for him. He had destroyed her and she vowed never to let him close enough to do it again. Or anyone for that matter. But perhaps her resolve was not as steadfast as she desperately wanted to believe it was. Her heart may have been willing to hear him out again, but her stubborn brain refused to allow her to give in.

“I do… hate you,” she whispered, hating how clear her emotions were in her tone. Hearing his voice cracked something open inside her and all those walls were starting to crash around her.

“I know… but I’ll never stop, Rae. Never stop lovin’ you and carin’ about what happens to you. Hate me all you want but that’s it.”

She shook her head, even though she knew he could not see it.

Lies. It’s all lies. He doesn’t care. No one does. So stop kidding yourself.

The back of her hand quickly wiped away the few falling tears before she sniffled slightly and cleared her throat. She refused to give in. He did not love her, he did not care about her. That’s the only thing she knew was real. The rest was lies.

“You don’t care what happens to me,” she responded definatively. “No one does,” she repeated the menacing voice in her head that forced her insecurities and hard truths to the surface of her brain. “Hell… I don’t anymore.” Her voice trailed off slightly.

“Rae…” Whatever rebuttal he had started to form in his brain at her first statement faded away like a sandcastle swept in a tidal wave at her words. Did she really think that? Believe that no one in the world cared about her? Did she really no longer care about herself? Those words struck fear in his soul.

“Tell me how I can fix it, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do for you to forgive me.”

Her entire body sagged against the weight of her kitchen counter. She let the phone fall from her ear as a sob bubbled to the surface. She forgot about the GI Joe soldier who was standing in her living room awkwardly pretending as if he could not hear them.

“I-I don’t know if y-you can fix this, Michael. N-Not what you did b-but this exhaustion. I’m just… tired,” she wiped her eyes. “I’m tired o-of reaching out and getting swatted away… I’m tired of being disappointed b-by people. I’m t-tired of forgiving a-and piecing myself back together just to be pushed down and b-broken again. I-I h-have to f-find the fucking energy to pick up the p-pieces of my l-life y-yet again because I d-don’t… have any choice. B-But I d-don’t have enough… to do that a-and figure this out right now. I c-can’t think about forgiving you until I stop feeling…. this … exhausted.” Her words were barely audible as her emotions made her throat too tight to speak.

Another sob broke its way through before she forced her to clear her throat before she stood up straight. She could not do this, could not talk to him and let the door even crack. The wound still hurt too much.

“Goodbye, Michael.”

Raven hung up and blocked his contact once again. She glanced at her new shadow, who now turned his attention back to her.

“I can’t do this right now. I’m not leaving the house today so come back tomorrow and we can talk.” She did not wait for him to agree. “Get out.”

He seemed wholly unperturbed by her rudeness, she was clearly not his first “reluctant principal.” He merely nodded and walked to her front door, leaving the folder and his card with his cell phone number with her.

Raven marched into her bedroom and slammed her door shut, the chorus of sobs she was holding in finally breaking from the surface. Two weeks, only two weeks had passed and she just did not want to feel this anymore. This destruction. The wreckage of her life simply felt too great to rebuild. And there did not seem to be any light at the end of this particular tunnel.

***

The days marched by at a slow pace as Raven tried to do what she told Michael: pick up the pieces to her life. Her day to day now included her own personal GI Joe who followed her everywhere she went. And drove her everywhere she went. Which, admittedly, was not that many places. She did not have a job and she had few friends in LA so she spent most of her time in her apartment, occasionally venturing out for necessities. She imagined she was the easiest and most boring person David had ever protected.

Though they had gotten off to a rocky start, Raven had to admit that she felt safer when she did leave her home with him by her side. And he was not overbearing or bothersome. He had a few rules, which were easy enough for her to follow. And he promised that he would not report her every move back to Michael. She was not sure if she believed him fully but he seemed sincere enough.

She still thought about him, a ghost haunting her every passing thought. Thoughts that were only amplified as pictures and clips from his press tour went viral all over social media. She had tried her hardest to avoid them but sometimes she found her eyes lingering on a reel or tik tok featuring him. She never quite listened to what he was actually saying, she merely just studied him. The way he laughed with his entire body, the spark in his eyes as he talked about his craft and his passion.

He seemed happy… without her, a realization that always made her close whatever video it was and want to curl back up in her bed.

She did not want to miss him, she did not want to still be in love with him. But she still felt everything, all of that love and every ounce of the hurt.

An unknown number covered Michael’s face in the video she was silently watching. Unknown numbers were a mixed bag these days but something in her told her to answer it. It was an LA number, if that made her feel any better about it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak with Raven Turner?”

“This is she.”

“Hi Ms. Turner. My name is Angelina Smith, I’m the founder of The Spark Agency. We rep Black authors across fiction from contemporary to fantasy and sci/fi. I’ve been looking for new talent and a friend of mine passed along your name to me. You have a few minutes to chat?”

Raven’s eyes grew wide. She did not need to race to google to know who Angelina Smith and the Spark Agency were. They were the first, and one of the only, major Black-owned literary agencies and one of the only that almost exclusively repped Black and Brown authors. She had queried damn near every agent there when she first finished her manuscript but none of it worked out.

“Wait… you’re THE Angelina Smith?? If this is an elaborate prank…” Raven muttered, her brain already forcing her to temper her hopes and dreams. It would not surprise her if this was some insane tik tok prank or ruse to humiliate her. A month ago, she would have never considered that but now? She did not put much past people anymore.

She laughed. “No, I promise this is not a prank. I read your book… you’re incredibly talented. I work closely with Del Rey, Penguin House’s fantasy imprint, and I think your book and series would be perfect for them.”

“Seriously??”

“Yes. Could you come down to my office one day this week? Maybe tomorrow? You’re based here in LA too, right? We can also do something virtual if you’re not in town though. I would love to just chat about your vision for the series and see if we could be a good fit? And if it is, start to discuss all the business stuff. My least favorite part, to be honest,” she chuckled. “Can you give me your email?”

Raven rattled off her email quickly, still shocked and confused as to what was even happening right now.

“Ok great, my assistant will send you a calendar invitation and information. I have to jump but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Talk tomorrow.”

And with that, the call ended, leaving Raven with extreme whiplash as she tried to process what even just happened. She let out a breathy chuckle as she wondered if her life was about to turn around for the better. She did wonder how she even found her book, published under a pseudonym so it would not have been that easy to find. And she had basically been told her career in publishing was dead without hope of resuscitation so why would one of the most successful Black agents in publishing even want to waste their time on her?

A war raged as she tried to decide if this was really real. But a ding of her email let her know that it was legit. She studied every aspect of the email from email addresses to signatures, using LinkedIn and other investigative searches to verify her assistant’s existence as a person and everything checked out. If this was a ruse, it was the most elaborate one she had ever seen. It seemed… legit?

The smallest sprout of hope bloomed in her belly at the thought. Perhaps her life was not completely and totally destroyed. Well it was, but for the first time in a month, she did not see only despair ahead. She saw a path to build something new out of it.

***

“Raven! Angelina,” the tall, lean, and insanely gorgeous woman glided to her office door to greet Raven like she was floating on the air instead of walking in her incredibly high Louboutins. She held out her hand, Raven shaking it enthusiastically. “It is so great to meet you.”

“It is great to meet you too. And sorry,” she wiped her sweaty palm against her dress. “Kinda nervous.”

Angelica waved her hand dismissively. “No need to be nervous. I’ll be honest, I truly rarely say this but I’m already sold on you… just gotta sell you on me,” she winked.

“You’re the first agent to show interest in my work in years… and not to sound like a complete fan, you’re every author’s dream. Hardly need to sell me on you or your agency.”

“I know a diamond when I see one,” she shrugged. “Please sit,” she gestured toward the comfy white couch in her corner office, each woman sitting on each side.

“Not sure about a diamond,” Raven muttered. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she chewed on her lip. This was her dream but all night she had grappled with one thing, one thing that would kill their working relationship before it even began. Her reputation.

“I am so appreciative of this… And honestly, just knowing that someone of your caliber sees the value of my work would be enough. I mean you are amazing a-and your agency has repped some of my favorite authors. And this is such an honor.”

“How do I already sense a but coming?”

Raven smiled sadly. “But I don’t want you to waste your time. I doubt any publisher’s gonna want my name attached to them.”

Angelina stood up and walked over to a small table, pouring two glasses of brown liquor from a decanter she had sitting there. She returned to her perch on the couch, handing Raven one of the glasses.

“Do you think I would personally reach out to you without asking around about you? Without doing a google search? You don’t get to be me without doing your due diligence and I do mine. I know everything ‘your name’ comes with and I still called you. I won’t presume to know everything but I heard enough to know that what your last publisher did to you was not on you or right. Publishers can preach about caring about marginalized voices all they want but it’s still hard to be a woman, a black woman, in our industry. So when a phenomenal black writer gets labeled difficult? I… know what that means. And as for your situation now… well, I like an author with an interesting story,” she shrugged, though interesting was not the word Raven would have used to describe her own story. “But since you think I need convincing about you, let me ask you this… why did you want to be a writer? And why fantasy?”

Raven’s hands anxiously twisted in her lap as she thought about it. “A lot of reasons but mainly… all books are windows… a peek behind the curtain into another life, another time, another reality. But for me, fantasy books were always more? They were doors, a real escape into another world where life was limitless and the powerless underdog could be more. That you could fall but there’s always a reason to pick yourself back up and try again until you don’t fall anymore. And when I wrote my first short story, I realized they were also mirrors, a chance to examine yourself and your own life…” Raven’s hand picked up the hardback copy of her book that sat between the two women. “And heal wounds. Or at least start the process. And when I was old enough, I just realized I didn’t want to just be escaping into someone else’s world. I wanted to escape into one of my own creation too.”

Angelina smiled and nodded. “And that’s what all the due diligence in the world can’t tell me but the only thing I really need to know. I don’t care about anything other than whether this is your passion. And whether you are good at it. Check those boxes and I can work magic with anything, trust me. And as for your concern about publishers, I will admit that I may have been a bit overzealous but I already put feelers out and have three publishers, including Del Rey, who want to meet with you. Your old publishing house even reached out but I didn’t respond. My first response was to tell them to fuck off but wanted to check with you first.”

“Fuck off is pretty polite for what I want to say to them,” Raven muttered under her breath.

“Then fuck off it is.” The two women shared a knowing smile before Angelina continued.

The rest of the meeting was a dream, Raven forgot how amazing this all felt. Even the mundane legal stuff sparked an excitement she had not felt in such a long time. And now she had three meetings on the books to shop her book and an agent again, a book she thought she was not going to be able to do anything with ever again.

“Ok, I think that’s all I need for today. One thing, they’re gonna want book 2 fairly quickly. Any deal we get will include a reprint of this one but they’re all gonna want a first draft as soon as you can get one. Maybe let’s check in again on your progress on March 15? Gives you about a month.”

Raven grimaced on the inside. She had half of her second book done years ago and the doc sat unfinished and untouched ever since she lost her deal. Even with this surge of hope and new energy, she did not know if her creative juices were even still there. However, she did not voice any of those concerns to Angelina. How could she tell this badass woman that she was putting her name on the line for her and Raven did not even know if she could write anymore?

“Sounds good. I can do that,” she lied.

Or at least, we can try… and pray.

“Ok great. Jason will be bombarding your email over the next week with invites and such but I think we’re in good shape. We’ll send over my contract. If you have a lawyer, have them look it over. It’s standard in my opinion but I encourage all my authors to read it with a fine tooth comb and send back notes. It was great meeting you, Raven. I look forward to working with you.”

They shook hands once more before Raven stood to walk out of her office. However, at her door, Raven paused and turned around.

“I’m sorry… Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“How did you… find my book? I wasn’t querying or anything. It’s not even sold in stores anymore.”

“Oh, a good friend of mine passed a copy along. Said you had gotten the rights back recently and thought I might be interested. One thing I’ve learned is to never doubt Alexandra Williams. She knows how to spot rare talent and she was right, per usual. It’s infuriating really,” the woman laughed.

Raven used her hand on the doorknob to steady herself as her words hit her. She supposed she should not have been shocked but she was. A million questions ran through her brain. Why had he done that? What did he hope to get out of it? Was this another manipulation or a sign that he truly loved and cared about her? That he really wanted to fix all of this?

“Sorry… I may have wrongly assumed she or Michael told you I was gonna reach out.”

Raven realized that her internal monologue was clearly showing across her face. She quickly shook her head and replaced her perplexed look with a fake smile. “No, no. Don’t apologize. They probably wanted it to be a surprise. Thank you… again.”

“Thank me when we get you a deal,” she winked at her before giving her a wave.

Raven nodded and saw herself out, realizing that now… she actually had to do something. No more wallowing in bed and watching sad movies. Her life was back in motion and if she did not pick up her feet to keep up, she would ruin this second chance too.

She shot David a quick text asking him to pull around to pick her up. She had a book to write.

***

Michael was pitfully scrolling through his camera roll as Tessa came up behind him and slid into the open seat next to Alex on their jet. Tessa had been a bright spot on this press tour, keeping him engaged and laughing as much as she could. He was grateful. However, when he was alone or in spaces like this with no cameras, the melancholy always settled back in and he found himself seeking out Raven. Now that was simply a text that went unanswered, a wall of blue messages on his end. However, they did go through… which was an improvement.

Since he could not see her, he resorted to scrolling back through his phone and studying every photo or video they took together. His favorites were their trip to Paris. He looked at those pictures and videos more and longer than he should have, made all the more painful by the fact that he was on his way there before heading to London. He had hoped she would be beside him on this particular stop of his press tour, and had hoped she would get to experience Paris again with him.

But this time, the most romantic city in the world would merely feel like a cruel joke. When he examined her in those photos, each one resurfacing memories that he clung to like a buoy in the open ocean, they only made him fall deeper in love with her. It was as if he could see their love story play out in front of his eyes. And he always went back to Paris because it was such a clear turning point for them, the moment everything changed and they started to fall. The descent had been beautiful and he had savored every moment of it. He could see the love she held for him etched in her eyes, the longing that he had doubted was real back then. But now, it was all he could see… all he could focus on.

“Stare at your phone any harder and it might burst into flames,” Tessa joked as she sat down across from him.

Michael chuckled and tossed his phone down in the empty seat next to him, slumping back pitifully.

“My bad. Just…”

“Miss her?”

“Yea. Doubt she misses me though.” He mused, thinking back to their last two conversations, neither of which went well.

When he had made his choice, there had not been a world where he thought he would not be able to mend whatever it damaged between them. Conceited and cocky? He could own that now but his ego often was outsized. But now, he questioned whether there was a path forward for them at all? If he had done too much damage? Every night when he laid down for a precious few hours of sleep, her words tumbled and tossed in his brain matter. He had never heard her sound so… depleted as she was during their last phone call. He was trying, as much as he could from afar, but he did not know if it would ever be enough.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that. I only met her once but that woman is just as in love with you as you are with her. Those feelings just don’t disappear because she’s upset. Give her -”

“Time. I know,” he muttered angrily. “Just don’t know if there’s enough time to fix how I fucked this up, Tess. She said she’s too tired to forgive me. And the crazy thing is, I can’t even be mad at that. If I had her life, I would be fuckin’ tired too. I just wish she would let me talk to her, you know? Explain or something.”

Tessa reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know but you’re doing what you can. Show her that you care about her and maybe that’ll soften her up enough for a conversation later.”

“And,” Alex interjected. “If it at all gets you out of this relentlessly annoying funk, Angelina texted and said she and Raven had a great meeting yesterday. So one thing’s working out.”

“See?” Tessa, forever an optimist, smiled widely. “Progress. Keep showing up for her.” Tessa leaned back and studied him for a moment, her eyes filled with introspection that made Michael sit up a bit straighter.

“What’s that look for?”

“No, just… I’ve known you for a decade and I just have never seen you like this before.”

“What? Acting like a bitch?” he grumbled, tossing Alex a side eye that she only rolled her own eyes yet.

“No. This serious… this mature… vulnerable. It’s a new side of you that I’ve never seen and the whole world sees it too. It’s really nice and refreshing.”

“Yea, well it’s all her.”

“Does she know that?”

But before he could ask her what she meant, Tessa’s agent called her over to discuss something, leaving Michael alone to ponder his own thoughts.

***

Almost two weeks went by and the document on Raven’s computer remained unchanged. She stared at the screen for hours a day, willing the prose of her novel to leap out of her brain and onto the page but nothing. She reread the words she wrote years ago and none of it even sounded good to her anymore but she did not know how to fix it. Her backspace button saw more love than any other key on her keyboard. Hour after hour marched on and she had nothing to give. Her characters did not even seem to live in her head anymore. When she tried to tap into their thoughts, their lives, and intentions… all she heard was silence from them and the loud roaring of her own problems. They were still there but it was as if they were miles and miles away with too many barriers for her to access them. And if she could not access them, she could not write an authentic story that a publisher would ever want or readers deserved.

Had she gotten a second chance only to realize there was no point? How could she turn a draft around in a quickly dwindling time frame when she had not written a single thing?

And she could not even blame her writer’s block on anyone. It was all her, her brain and insecurities reeking havoc on her ability to do something that had once been as second nature as breathing. And all her thoughts, of course, just charted a path back to him. Always.

She knew Michael arranging that meeting had been an olive branch, his attempt at fixing things between them. And while part of her was grateful, another part was frustrated that the only reason she was getting her shot back at being an author was because of his connections. Hell, she would still be trapped with her own publisher if it was not for him. Did she want her future success and career to be built on his support? Something about it felt… wrong. Like accepting it was forgiveness she was not ready to offer him yet.

She slammed her computer shut in frustration, an unanswered email from Angelina getting an update on her draft. It would just have to stay on read, Raven decided as she sulked in bed. This was her least favorite part of the day… when she gave up trying to force words to appear on the page and curled back into her spot in bed. That’s when all the negative thoughts caught up with her the most and she had no distractions to help her, tormenting and taunting her with how much she did not deserve him. Or anything good in her life.

Even with this new book deal, she was bound to ruin it at some point right? That was all she knew how to do. The sun was starting to set, dimming the light in her room. Sitting there, without her job, students or Michael to distract her, made it that much harder the fact that all roads led back to one central problem: her. And that was not something Michael could fix. Hell, she did not even know how to fix that. Was she even fixable? Or would she just continue to destroy everything in her life forever?

She was about to get up and force herself to watch tv as a distraction when her phone rang.

Kiara

Raven perhaps foolishly thought her sister would simply give up. She could not even count how many times she sent her calls to voicemail but that did not deter her. Kiara demanded that she be given her moment to revel and gloat. Despite wanting nothing to do with or hear a thing from Kiara, Raven knew she was merely kicking an inevitable can down the road. She was a dog with a bone and she would never stop until Raven gave her the attention she demanded.

Perhaps Raven really was a masochist because despite how low she was already feeling, she decided today was the day to stop punting her sister and just get the beating over with.

“Oh so you finally decide to answer my fucking calls? Weeks later?”

“We made it pretty clear where we stood at Thanksgiving. I just knew you wouldn’t stop calling so… say what you wanna say so we can all move on?” Raven could not keep the exasperation out of her voice. She did not need a big speech or lead up. Let’s just get right to the point.

“Not talking all that big shit now, huh? You know… I always knew you weren’t shit but prostitution? Findin’ new ways to embarrass dad and I every day, huh?”

“Yep, so what do you want me to say, Kiara?”

“Just wondering if you’re finally ready to admit what I’ve always known?”

Raven’s eyes clenched shut. “And what’s that?”

“That you were the biggest mistake mama ever made. All you’ve ever done is ruin my life from the minute you were born. Daddy is fuckin’ disgusted with you. You thought you could snag a big nigga like Michael but he just realized what I already knew. You don’t deserve shit, let alone him. Who knows, maybe I’ll give him a call. He’s havin’ his big movie premiere tonight, finally dumped his dead weight. Maybe we can see how he does with a real woman, not a fuckin’ slut.”

Raven’s head thudded against her headboard lightly as a few stray tears fell. She wiped them away and cleared her throat, forcing the words out of her throat. She was broken but she refused to break down in front of Kiara of all people.

“Fine. You’re right,” her voice filled with such sorrow and resignation that Raven almost did not recognize herself. “Satisfied?”

There was a pause as if Kiara was surprised at her response. But that’s what she had wanted, right? To hear Raven humble herself, admit that she was every horrible thing Kiara, her dad, and now the whole world thought she was.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” she repeated out loud. “That you’re right and I’m the villain and all your hate and vitriol toward me for my entire life is justified? Well, you’re right. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself and I deserve all of it. You are right. So congrats. You won. Oh and if you want Michael, you can have him. I’ll send you his number.” Raven did not even bother waiting for Kiara to speak before she hung up and threw her phone down.

Her head fell into her knees as sobs raked through her body, she did not even know her body could produce anymore tears. How had she not dried herself out? That last statement was an utter and complete falsehood. She did not want Michael anymore, or rather, she simply convinced herself she should not want him anymore. Her body still yearned for him like an addict searching for their next fix. But it would be a cold day in hell before she served him on a gilded platter to her sister of all people. And even though she hated him more than anyone in this world, she knew that was not his way.

But everything else? She meant every word. She hated herself and her life. And it was overwhelmingly excruciating to feel 30 years of hatred flood her brain all at once.

“Fuck! Enough of this,” she muttered. She could not sit there, lay around ruminating in her pain and suffering all night. Especially not when Kiara had just reminded her that Michael was having one of the biggest night’s of his career, a night she had once been so excited to experience by his side.

She needed to forget. Forget him, forget her pain… forget all of it.

She went into her closet and pulled out a bodysuit and jeans. She threw on makeup as quickly as she could, freshened up her hair and texted David that she wanted to go out. He was still sitting in his car outside watching her building, as he would until she went to sleep. But tonight, she did not plan on going to sleep anytime soon, she needed release.

And release is exactly what she would find as she made David drive around until she spotted a hole-in-the-wall bar downtown. It was old and grimy and the perfect escape. There were no lying millionaires to be found in a place like this, just regular men who would think nothing of fucking Raven in the bathroom or the back of their car or wherever her drunk mind encouraged them to go.

“Hey, welcome to the Griffin,” the bartender offered as Raven sat down at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Hey… ummm can I just have tequila with pineapple juice? Double. And just keep ‘em coming.” She handed him her credit card to start what she knew would be a regrettably large tab in the morning. But she could not have hoped to care.

He merely nodded in agreement before quickly mixing her simple but effective poison of choice. She damn near drank it like a shot, throwing it back before signaling him to make her another. And with every disgusting bottom shelf sip of tequila she took, she felt it. Release.

***

“Congrats, baby. The movie was amazing,” Michael’s mother kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, ma.”

There was a certain sorrow in his voice that he found hard to hide now that he had returned home from his Creed 3 World Premiere. Two weeks of traveling non-stop and he was finally home. Only home simply reminded him of one person now. Raven. It was the biggest night of his career and he spent the entire night wishing she was by his side, musing on what she would think of specific scenes or the movie overall. Her opinion was the only one he found himself even caring about. The insane pace of his press tour had taken his mind off Raven to a degree. But being back in LA for a few weeks head of the world premiere and the Oscars pushed all those thoughts front and center again.

And it was clear to every person around him, which is why his cast and team did not press him when he declined attending the after party he was hosting and paid for.

“I know it’s hard without her, baby. But celebrate the moment, your moment. If she’s meant to be yours, she’ll come back around.”

His mother squeezed his hand before following his father up the stairs to their bedroom. Michael sighed and nodded. That’s what he kept telling himself this entire time but it was not working anymore. He just wanted to hear her voice, even if all she wanted to do was yell at him. He could take it, handle it. It was the silence that was harrowing, that felt too heart-wrenching to contend with.

This press tour had proven one thing to him - Raven had unlocked a side of him that he had never had before. This was his most open and genuine, most real moments he had offered the public. And people noticed, noticed that he was different, more serious, vulnerable, and open about himself, his work, and his craft. Raven had brought all that out in him. And he wanted her by his side to revel in it with him. He wanted people to know that it was her who caused that, who split him open and made him stop hiding.

His phone rang, Michael’s heart nearly stopping as David’s name slid across his screen. The man had never actively reached out to Michael since his first day guarding Raven. Though Michael paid for his services, he made it clear that he did not want reports unless they were threats to Raven’s safety, physical or otherwise. And so, he had taken David’s silence for what it was: a sign that Raven was safe. And that was all he could ask for. But the man reaching out to him foretold bad news, he knew that much.

“She alright??” Michael asked immediately, his feet already moving toward his keys to get in his car.

“Depends on your definition. We’re at a bar downtown and she’s… well, she’s been here for hours. It’s a dive bar so there aren’t many people here, no cameras. But she’s completely wasted. Like refusing to leave wasted. I told the bartender to cut her off after this drink bu-”

Michael loosened his bow tie and grabbed his keys. “Text me the address.”

“Already sent.”

Michael was not sure what to expect when he finally made it downtown and parked his car. He checked David’s text two or three times, shocked to believe a bar could exist in such a rundown building that did not look safe, much less occupying a functioning business. But David had sent the correct address, the faded, grungy and dilapidated sign of The Griffin hanging above the door.

Michael knew he looked out of place as he pushed his way inside, his body still donned in a perfectly tailored royal blue tuxedo. But thankfully, the bar was not crowded, just a few folks hanging around the bar and booths. But he only had eyes for one person like a moth to a flame, a young woman wildly dancing in the corner near the jukebox.

Despite the carefree smile on her face and swing in her hips, Michael could still see the dimmed spark in her eyes from across the dimly lit bar. He had not laid eyes on her in so long and just seeing her was like someone breathed new life into his body. The rough seas of his soul calmed, even just for a moment, before worry consumed him.

Was this normal for her since they broke up and stopped speaking? Getting completely drunk at dive bars? He could count on one had the number of times he had seen her tipsy, let alone drunk. But this was beyond anything he had ever witnessed with her but a scene he knew all too well with himself: someone trying to numb their pain with liquor and a good time. And it always worked, he knew, until the sun came up and the hangover set in and the pain rushed back tenfold. He chased that serene, weightless, painless feeling night after night for years. He had to learn the hard way that numbing the pain did not stop or heal it, it just made it hurt more later on when you finally confronted it. He refused to let someone as pure as Raven fall into the same trap he did.

He made his way across the bar, only stopping to speak to the bartender. “How many drinks she had?”

The bartender, a graying white man, glanced up from where he was wiping down the soiled bar. His eyes grew wide for a moment, clearly recognizing Michael, before he answered.

“Uhhh… I’m sure she lost track. The one in her hand is number 7. And her last. The guy with her told me to cut her off.”

Michael let out a low whistle and grimaced. There was not a world in which she didn’t feel that in the morning. He pulled out his credit card and slid it across the bar to the man. “Pay her tab with this for me, aight?”

“Yes sir. You’re my favorite villain in Marvel by the way…” he offered with an enthusiastic smile.

“‘Preciate you.” Michael walked over to where Raven was dancing and where David stood protectively by, the young woman still not even noticing him. More of the drink in her hand landed on the dirty floor of the bar than it did in her mouth when she tried to take another sip.

Michael rushed forward and skillfully slid it out of her grasp, Raven whipping around to find him behind her. Her smile immediately fell as she looked him up and down.

The drunk version of her wanted to be excited to see him but the sliver of her logical brain that remained reminded her that the only reason they were drinking was to forget him and the destruction he caused. How could she be so weak as to even care that he was there?

“W-what are you doing… here?” she slurred, her hand making a grab for her drink, which he held just out of her grasp.

“To take you home that’s what. You’ve had enough. Unless you wanna end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning?”

She merely shrugged as she continued to dance. “Can’t be any worse. I’m having… a good time. Unlike him,” She turned to David and smiled. “He’s sooooooooo uptight. You know… h-he doesn’t even smile. Like ever? And has a lot of thoughts… on serial killers, w-which is strange. Come on, David.” She called over to him from his stance in the corner, which gave him a full view of the bar. “Dance with me,” she tried to walk over to him in her high heels but stumbled, Michael quickly grabbing her around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Come on.”

“You… two are… no fun,” she moaned pitifully. However, she did not fight against Michael’s strong grasp as he led her out of the bar and to his ferrari.

It took him longer than it should have to just get her in the car. However, once she was settled, he went into the back and grabbed the spare gym bag he kept there and dumped all the clothes out before putting it in her lap like a makeshift bucket. Though he knew he could just take her to his condo, he wanted to care for her at his home, which was a longer drive. And as much as he adored her, getting the interior of his brand new and very expensive custom car cleaned when all that alcohol inevitably showed up in a different, less desirable form was not on his to-do list for tomorrow.

Raven’s wild and uninhibited drunk persona continued for most of the ride as she demanded he turn on some “tunes” for her to listen to, singing loudly and off-key to every song she pulled up on his Spotify. It would have been cute if the entire situation had not been so concerning.

By the time they reached his house 30 minutes later, the height of her drunkenness had worn off and her persona had settled into a decidedly somber one.

“You hold your liquor better than I thought you would,” Michael remarked as he helped her up the stairs to his master suite.

“Only… long enough not to throw up in your fancy car. Can’t m-make the same promise… for your carpet if you keep moving this slow.”

That did make Michael pick up his pace a bit, immediately taking Raven to his bathroom and gently sitting her down. He made quick work of taking off her shoes and pulling her hair back with the hair tie on her wrist just in time for her to bury her face in the toilet.

Michael rarely got sick from alcohol but he had never been more thankful for his high tolerance of liquor as he essentially watched her body perform an exorcism. He only left her once to get her water and make a cup of tea to settle her stomach but even in his giant house, he could hear the faint heaving as he made his way to the kitchen.

When he returned with her water and tea, Raven was sitting with her head propped up on his toilet seat, gingerly wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry…” she pushed out. “Having my ex have to take care of me is a… fucking new… low.”

Michael felt like she had sucker punched him with the word ex. He supposed that was what they were, no matter how much he did not want that to be true. But it did not hurt any less.

“Don’t apologize.” He wet a washcloth with warm water before wiping her face. “Better?”

“Yea… c-can’t imagine there’s anything left in my body,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before saying. “You shouldn’t’ve come. I told him not to tell you where I went.”

“Tonight was the first time he called me. I only just got back to LA this week for press and the premiere. He was just worried about you. Don’t think he expected me to actually show up.”

She eyed him up and down, for the first time realizing he was in a pristine deep royal blue tuxedo. She could not stop the passing thought on how good he looked.

“How was it?” At his confused expression, she amended. “The movie… how was it?”

He scoffed, even in this state, she cared about how his movie went. She always spoke about how she did not deserve him but from where he sat, it was the other way around.

“Don’t really care to talk about the movie right now, Rae. Want to talk about you.”

“Well I don’t wanna talk about me o-or think about me. Hence all the alcohol my body just ejected. So how was the movie?”

He slid down onto the floor next to her, setting the pajama set he had pulled out for her next to him.

“It was good. I’d already seen it but seein’ it on a big screen, watchin’ my family see it. It was surreal.”

“A-and the press tour?”

“Good. Busy. Not done either. Alex secured an interview with Oprah, which is hella dope… bout the movie and Oscars. So it’s been good. Hard without the one person I needed though.”

She scoffed, finally feeling strong enough to stop using his toilet as a literal crutch. She forced herself to scoot away, now leaning her back into his standing tub across from him.

“Didn’t need me. No one does,” she muttered, taking a sip of the tea he sat out for her.

Ginger tea, perfectly made just as she liked it. God, why was he like this?? So perfect and attentive even when she wanted to hate him?

“That’s not true. Tell me what’s goin’ on, Rae? I… I’ve never seen you like this. Never seen you drink this much or talk like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well…” she muttered as she played with the material of his rug beneath her.

“I think I know you pretty well and this ain’t you.”

“I… finally talked to my sister today. A-and she just voiced what I already knew but had never said out loud. All I do is ruin things… people. Hell, I’m about to ruin this book deal you got it… I can’t even write anymore. Destruction follows me like a damn fire everywhere I go, burning everything I touch. I just… didn’t want to be me for a while? Didn’t want to be weighed down by that.”

“You didn’t ruin me.”

“If you had never met me, your face wouldn’t have been plastered across TMZ for carrying an unconscious woman out of a hotel…. If you’d never met me, you’d be blissfully enjoying your moment right now instead of taking care of a pathetic girl you dumped.” She paused, her fingers twirling around the fraying threads of the hole in her distressed jeans. “If I hadn’t been born, my family would be whole a-and happy. If I had just said yes to that asshole, I’d still have my career and I wouldn’t have resorted to prostitution. I-If I hadn’t decided to make a quick buck, I wouldn’t have disappointed my students a-and everyone I know. A-and it was easy to blame you when e-everything happened,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face, as the drunk facade gave way to the brokenness and pain she tried to numb. “It was easy to act as if this w-was all your fault. But it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Rae…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t pretend it’s not true… this is all my fault.” He watched as she held the soft cotton in her hands, her fingers rolling over it. A tear fell from her eyes, splashing onto the heather gray material. She lifted her eyes, her first time looking him in his eyes. “W-was any of it real? W-what we had?”

“All of it was real. Every bit of it. I love you with everything in me, Rae. I hate that you don’t believe that, that I made you doubt it. But it’s true. You can’t ruin me when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“A-and Tasha? D-do you love her?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Fuck no. I swear. I… messed up. Completely fucked up. I… thought I was helping you by dealing with it on my own and I let my anger at Tasha and fear of hurting you push me to do just that. I hurt you. And I’ll do anything to mend what I broke.Because you’re my world, Raven. You have to believe that. What can I do to make you believe that?”

Michael watched as her shoulders shrugged forward, collapsing under the weight of the day and everything. She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her head on her knees. “I d-don’t know if I can believe anything anymore.

“Then I’ll spend the rest of your life and mine helping you believe it. Whatever it takes.”

Raven stood up, ignoring the dizziness the sudden movement caused as she made a beeline for his bedroom door. She thought she could do this but she couldn’t. She couldn’t be here with him, listening to his promises. Not when the voices in her head loudly clashed against his words like metal against metal. Most of her brain that still loved him with everything in her screamed at her for pulling him away from one of the biggest nights of his career, chastising her for ruining yet another thing for him. And the louder part that demanded she despise him yelled that all of his promises were a lie, nothing he said was real. They weren’t real.

She did not deserve him and he was just propping her back up so he could knock her down again, he would never keep those lofty promises. That’s what everyone in her life did and she was too bruised to be anyone’s punching bag anymore. He was just a fantasy she tried to will to life but was never real.

She grabbed her clutch and phone that Michael had discarded on her bed. She did not care how her body swayed slightly and was still off kilter. She could stay awake long enough to call an uber and get herself home.

“What are you doing??”

“Going home. I c-can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You s-should be out celebrating your big night, not here taking care of me.”

“The fuck? Raven, put the phone down. I ain’t lettin’ you Uber home like this.”

“You don’t care!”

“Stop sayin’ that shit!” he rushed forward and ripped her phone out of her hands, closing the Uber app. He knew it was wrong but he also knew her movements and reactions were too slow for her to stop him.

She tried to snag it from him, the actor easily holding it above their heads and utterly out of her reach.

“Stop wasting your time on me, Michael,” she hurled at him, her eyes clenching shut in her exasperation. “G-Go be with Tasha o-or some model or some woman actually worth your time. A woman you actually want. We both know that’s not me. So let me go, please. T-this… the promises, t-the disappointment, it hurts too much.”

“Be mad at me. Push me away all you want. Fine, I deserve it. But do it because I fucked up. Because I lied and kept the truth from you and tried to protect you and disappointed you just like everyone else. I can learn to live with that one day. But I can’t and won’t live with you doing it because you still believe you don’t deserve me! Because that’s not true.”

“Why w-would I believe you deserve me??! What future could we… ever have together when the world knows you a-and however many men they believe paid me for sex?? What kinda future is that for us?? People a-are calling you the greatest actor of a fuckin’ generation. You’re about to interview with fuckin’ Oprah literally this week! And what am I? A prostitute with no family and 3 failed careers under her belt?? A failed author who can’t even write a sentence now, much less another book. What kinda future would we have when you didn’t even think I w-was strong enough to tell me your secrets, your problems?? This whole situation, YOUR actions, proves that WE WEREN’T REAL!” she exploded, her drunkenness fueling the first time she voiced her true feelings out loud to anyone. “None of it was real. And the moment it got real, the moment shit got hard, you didn’t confide in me, you didn’t trust me, you threw me to the wolves because you knew what the rest of the world knows… I don’t deserve to be here i-in this part of your life! Th-This house… y-your family… your real life?? I don’t fit here anymore, Michael! I n-never did.” She took a deep shuddering breath before continuing.

“So I’m asking you… begging you to just… let me go. L-Let me go back to my…” she chuckled. “Insignificant life as Pluto o-or the side character. Please. B-Because I can pick myself b-back up a-and force myself to keep moving, force myself to keep going a-and b-be alone for the rest of my life a-and live in the shadows. But I can’t do that with fake promises, promises of m-more when it isn’t real… because w-words a-and promises a-aren’t real a-and they aren’t enough a-anymore. I can’t k-keep putting my faith in fantasies only for reality to knock me down again. Because I d-don’t think I can get back up again. I-I’m tired, Michael. This is it, this is all I have left. So please… just let me go.”

Michael slightly stumbled back in shock, the raw hurt in her voice almost too agonizing to feel. His arm came down but his grip on her phone was almost crushing. Though he wanted to respect her wishes, he also knew… there was not a world in which he could let her go truly. He loved her too much. His world rose and set with her. He used his knuckles to wipe his own tears away.

“Raven… please. J-just give me a chance to show you that I’m real, that what I feel for you is real. Because I would give up all this shit, every last bit of it for you. I’m at the height of my career and all I can think about is you. All that matters is you.”

She shook her head and held out her hand for her phone. “I wish… I wish I c-could believe you. But I don’t know if I can.”

With that, Michael’s grip loosened just enough for Raven to grab her phone and purse and start to walk out the door. However, as she pulled open the door, Michael’s hand grabbed the frame to stop her.

“I can keep working to fix what I did. I can show you that you’re my world, that you’re my Sun and that my world revolves around the very look on your face. I will happily show up at your doorstep everyday with actions and proof of how much I love you… how much I fucking breath for you. And I will. But I can’t make you believe it. I can’t make you believe you deserve it. That’s the one thing I can’t do here. I-I’ll never let you go, Rae. My heart will always be yours.” He bowed his head, every word felt like a sharp knife leaving his throat, agony to force out. But he knew it had to be said. “But I c-can’t force you to believe that you own my heart and deserve it or that you’re worth everything to me. I can do everything in my power to show you I’m worth one more fall but you have to jump. So if and when you believe what I know is true about you and us, I’m ready to jump again.”

And with that, he let her go, allowing her to open the door fully and leave. Every step she took further away from him caused the sorrow he felt to grow to unspeakable heights. At one time, he thought this pain could not have gotten worse. But this was far worse.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

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A/N:

I promise yall… it’s gonna get better LOL This is really the worst it gets! Our girl is just feeling the weight of it all and is sad but she is a survivor 💪🏾

Y’all were hard on my girl last chapter - how are we feeling?? Still mad at her? Still mad at Michael? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! *disappears* lol also it was really hard to post this from my phone 😭 won’t do that again hahaha



#8 and #28 with dy where reader is a stripper and doyoung is her rich private visitor, lets him watch her alone for free unlike others. made a bet with her that he can’t touch her while she’s seducing him otherwise he’d have to pay her like half a million LOL but dy doesn’t care in this scenario cos she looks especially sexy so he just fucks her raw on the couch 🤷‍♀️ men will be men and reader gets the cash $$$

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now” + “ Touch me and you lose”

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

wc: 4.3k

paring: doyoung x afab reader

taggs: pussy drunk and rich as hell doyoung, stripper reader, unprotected sex, cream pie

note: slight change of the prompt, she doesn’t give doyoung free dances because this drabble contains his first dance by her. HOPE YOU DON’T MIND NONNY. 

minors dni 

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. You don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show, what’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, with children, with stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their doors. To them, you are their secret little stress relief, and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, dancing a little longer for them when they pay for private dances. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Doyoung was one of those men. You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling in his seat to hide the boner he gets just from looking at a woman he could never have. He wasn’t though, and you swear he bought out the entire club because he was there for hours watching each woman, silently judging. You remember when he made eye contact with you for the first time too. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear your heart skip a beat over the music you were dancing to. 

You kept eye contact with him due to the amount of money he had slipped to the other girls. One of your best friends walked into the back with two hundred dollars. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when she told you it was from the quiet guy you had already deemed as shy. 

He was rich. Even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though, he was tipping with bills that showed his status. So, naturally, you stayed on his side of the stage to dangle yourself in front of him. You kept your eye contact with him until you managed to get three of those big bills from him.

After that first night of meeting him, you never thought you’d see him again. A week went by, a week of good money, a week of eating fancy lunches paid for by the lust of men– and then he shows up again on the busiest night of the week. Saturday. 

You called dibs on his as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though because who the man chose was who would dance for him. Doyoung never chose a girl though. He never paid for dances, never spoke, never so much as shivered in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. 

Weeks and months had gone by at this point and Doyoung became a regular Saturday night face. He became the talk of the back room for a long while until it just became a normal thing. Sometimes the girls would come back with tears in their eyes noting how the man didn’t tip them a dime that time, only to feel better when one of the bouncers brought back a tray of expensive drinks and an envelope with her stage name on it. Other times the girls would roll their eyes at his presence in the club, wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. Still, that didn't stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of that money.

That is, until now. Half a year since Doyoung became a regular, you walk into work on Saturday night as the sun begins to go down. You had gotten new shoes, big and pretty platforms to slide across the stage in. You bought them with the money he gave you the week before, almost regularly receiving three to four hundred dollars from him alone. He was a big tipper, and annoying because he never offers a chance to let the girls really blow his mind for the bigger tips. Again, until now. 

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Mark, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Mark would be there soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Doyoung,” 

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else was said by the owner, he just turns on his heel and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

~

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Doyoung is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always liked when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are even dimmer when you walk in, and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

“Doyoung?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it was a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice tonight, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Doyoung mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now though, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he looks up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’d never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Doyoung actually react to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had came in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“You’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. “Do you know the rules?” 

Doyoung nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. Lap dances, personal pole dances, even just lounging and talking, all of it could happen. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It was lap-dance time, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Doyoung is stoic beneath you, but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great to compose himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here, that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure. Doyoung can’t embarrass himself by showing you just how much he’s wanted to fuck you since he’d seen you grinding on the stage. 

“I imagine you’re struggling, Doyoung–” You break him out of his thoughts, turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him. 

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh. Deep down, you’re perfectly fine with him touching you, because damn, he’s attractive and has money? You'd marry him right the fuck now, honestly.

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to, just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking. Because suddenly, hearing you offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has him well aware that he could pull it off regardless of the number you speak out. 

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion was still there if he were the type to . . . y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a mil is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game was on now, as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over him, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Doyoung groans, slapping a hand on his forehead with a laugh. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You wanted to fuck me before?” 

Doyoung nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers and lifting your head to look at him. When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face in place so you can’t look or wiggle away. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, but Doyoung is definitely a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. 

“No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean. . “ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Doyoung’s cock instantly twitches against his pants. 

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “You want this, right?” He groans out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky him, he thinks. 

Doyoung doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is that you want it. Not because it’s your job, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Doyoung slips a finger into you with ease, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you were more wet than he could have imagined. Seeing it alone confirmed it, but feeling the warm slick envelope his fingers had his cock on fire to be inside of you. 

“Do you want it?” He asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it again with your sweet voice. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good girl.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against him. “Letting your clients fuck you now, hm?” He grunts against your ear when your back is flush against him.

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. His cock is pulsing inside of you and all you can do is sigh out with him. 

“Good?” He asks, finally releasing your middle and letting you fall forward against the back of the couch. 

You hum against the cushions, feeling him slowly fuck into you. 

“Hold onto the couch.” He advises you, staring down at his cock disappearing in and out of you, he can’t keep this slow pace up for much longer. 

You do as you’re told, lifting yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Doyoung is pulling his hips back and slamming into you. You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard, that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

When he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, and lays his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure. His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy. But then he starts talking again, reminding you that you’re the one being fucked and you will not be the one fucking him tonight. 

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans against your shoulder when he snaps his hips back into you sharply. “I’ve waited so long for this.” As if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Doyoung on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out again, trying to lay claim on you if you’ll allow it. “Don’t ever let another man make this deal with you.” 

You nod, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you. “I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens, finally lifting himself back up to resume a quick and aggressive pace. 

And as if the one-sided conversation never happened, you feel Doyoung release himself as he fucks you at an aggressive pace, cumming inside of you without so much as a warning. He grabs you by the hair, pulls you back up against him, and holds you so tightly that all you can do is cock warm him throughout his orgasm.

The sounds he let out against you were so erotic that you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway, and for some reason, having Doyoung act all possessive over you is much less offensive than it should be. You don’t see it as him assuming you���re a woman who would allow men to pay for bets of sex. Doyoung seems to know and trust that this isn’t a normal occurrence, though if it were it would be none of his business. If anything, you decide he just gets possessive when his cock is wet.

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money was attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and give your pussy a little tap. He knows you didn't cum, and to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop.

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you?

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit of the deal.”

Doyoung shrugs. “You wouldn’t.” He laughs.

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? What a stupid man. 

“Doyoung–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just left it lying against the couch. 

“Listen, I don’t normally do this..” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

Ooo can I hear a little more about 'No 17: i can't believe this is sad', please!

this fic is technically a...sequel? prequel? It's at least in the same universe as the twink to tank fic lol. I posted about it here! The Rose mentioned is in fact the Rose from the car crash fic. She took baby Buck under her wing while they were working at the same strip/dance club together and she kept the wolves away from snapping him up. I've changed my mind how the exact plot is going to go so many times, but generally it's Buck and Eddie are just getting serious, Buck is dealing with some residual anxiety and over all poor mental health from the everything. Then he finds out Rose is moving to LA and he's excited! but like the other post says...serial arsonist targeting clubs and dancers...and Rose is still a dancer. But here's a nightmare sequence snippet because why not:

Buck feels like he’s trying to break through the surface of a tar-pit. Chest heaving against the writhing mass of darkness as it squeezes around him, trying to prevent him from escaping. His lungs are burning, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to scream don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me — the words burning in his throat, the black tar rushing in and gagging him. Invisible hands squeeze and grope, making his skin crawl with the anxiety of a million tiny ants.  Panic like ice cold fire consumes his insides, and Buck feels like he’s being burned from the inside out as he struggles and claws his way to the surface. 

With a sharp gasp, Buck breaks free, suddenly in a free fall. 

A cry forms on his lips just as the world returns to him all at once. It’s like being splashed in the face with ice cold water and Buck sits up in bed so quickly his vision spins. It takes him a moment to orient himself as he sucks in great heaving lungfuls of air, as if he’d been drowning. 

Pushing his trembling hands through his sweaty curls, Buck tugs, trying to ground himself with the sharp pin pricks of pain. Buck continues to greedily gulp down air, trying to order his thoughts and bring himself some semblance of calm. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he tries to get up, but disentangling himself from his twisted mass of sheets proves to be difficult, his shaking limbs uncooperative. 

The mattress groans as Buck finally manages to wrestle himself free from his cotton prison. Planting his feet flat on the floor, Buck focuses on the solid feeling of the floorboards underneath him, the chilly morning air biting at his bare toes.. He’s not sure how long he sits there, head down between his knees, pulse pounding in his ears.

I’m yours

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni), this is kinda fluffy, swearing (I literally always cuss, it’s just a given at this point lol)

Summary: Where you go to the Malfoy’s for a party and you and Draco’s relationship finally takes the turn you both wanted.

Masterlist

Requested by anon, lmk if you like it (:

“You look beautiful (y/n), Draco’s inside waiting for you.” Narcissa says as she pulls away from the quick hug, greeting your parents in the same friendly fashion.

You walk through the large manor quickly, trying to find the familiar head of platinum hair that belonged to your best friend. However your search kept getting interrupted, many of your parents friends stopping you for boring conversations and of course trying to marry you off to one of their sons, because nothing was more important than pure blood babies in their eyes. You were used to it though, that’s basically the point of having these extravagant parties, but you’d be damned if you’d be forced into a loveless marriage for the sake of blood purity.

“You’ll adore him darling, he’s quite the handsome boy.” Says the woman whose name you didn’t bother learning as she rambled on about her son, you merely nodded as you let your eyes rake over the sea of people, finally locking eyes with the boy you’ve been looking for. Draco had already been looking at you and the thought made you smile.

“Sorry ma’am I actually have something important to attend to right now.” You say, already walking away from the frowning lady. His eyes trail your figure and you mentally pat yourself on the back for picking out this dress, the black satin material fits you like a second layer of skin, the high slit showed off a long tan leg, and the off the shoulder sleeves displayed your collar bones nicely. You looked good and you knew it.

“Where have you been?” You question once you reach him, giving the blonde a quick kiss on the cheek like you usually do when you see him.

“Sorry love, I got stuck talking to Mrs. Parkinson, you know how she is.” Draco says pulling you in for a hug. “You look fucking amazing in that dress.” He whispers in your ear making you shiver. The effect he had on you was something you couldn’t get used to no matter how much time you spent with him.

“Thank you.” You blush. “You don’t look too bad yourself Draco.” He’s wearing one of his signature fitted all black suits that made you weak in the knees.

You’ve been best friends since you were children but as you grew older there was no denying that the relationship was changing. Both of you now matured knew that whatever this was it was a lot more than just friendship. Why you hadn’t acted on it yet, neither of you knew. Maybe it was because of the impending war or maybe just the fear of losing one another but neither of you could hide the obvious feelings you stored for each other.

“Come on, we’ll both need a drink to get through the rest of the night.” He led the way to the table full of various types of alcohol, pouring you each a shot of fire whiskey, your favorite.

“Another for good luck?” You ask right after throwing back the first one.

“You read my mind (y/l/n).” He winks while handing you your second shot. The effects of the alcohol and the handsome boy in front of you immediately make you feel more relaxed.

“Let’s dance!” You exclaim as you watch others gather in the center of the room with a partner, before he could even respond you’d already grabbed his hand and led him towards the dancing people.

You knew he didn’t really like dancing but he followed you without complaint because as he had told you once before, he’d rather scoop out his own eyeballs than to watch some foul git put their hands on you, you take full advantage of that information any chance you get. This was one of those situations, because damn did you love dancing, especially with Draco.

You grab his hands, swaying both of you to the fast rythm of the music. The smile on his face as he spins you around the other dancers makes your heart soar with so much affection for the blonde that you can’t stop the giggles from spilling out your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me (y/n) (y/l/n).” He says as you stumble into his chest, dizzy from all the spinning.

When the tempo of the music changes into something slower, Draco grabs the small of your back and pulls you into him so you’re chest is pressed to his. You wrap your arms around his neck and he holds your waist as you sway to the music, the atmosphere changing drastically, neither of you paying attention to anything around you.

“Take me upstairs Draco.” You whisper in his ear. You feel him go rigid as he pulls back to look at you, both knowing this is point of no return. Draco’s eyes search yours for any trace of hesitation, once he finds none he’s taking your hand and leading you through the crowd of people towards the staircase.

You could hear the blood pumping through your veins as you stepped into his familiar bedroom. He walks you over to the foot of his bed and grabs your chin, tilting it up to look at you and then his lips are on yours. Every emotion you feel for him is poured into the kiss, his lips caressing yours so gently it almost doesn’t seem real.

“Do you want this (y/n)?” He questions pulling away from the sweet kiss.

“I’m yours Draco.” Is all you have to say before he’s kissing you again, this time more urgently. He pulls away and turns you around so your back is to his chest and you face the mirror in front of his bed.

He grabs your hair and pushes it to the side as he litters kisses on your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your skin. He had one hand flat on your stomach pushing you against him and the other running down the side of your body over the tight dress, your head was thrown back, loving the way his hands feel on you. 

He pulls back, looking at you through the mirror, moving the hand on your stomach to the zipper on the back of your dress. “Go ahead Draco.” You encourage as he looks at you for approval. He kisses the back of your neck before slowly unzipping the fabric, watching as the satin material falls silently at your feet, leaving your chest bare for him to see, the only thing covering you is the lacy underwear on your hips as you step out the dress.

“So beautiful.” He whispers as he moves both hands to massage your breasts, never looking away from your body in the mirror, making small moans leave your mouth. He has on far too much clothes so you turn to face him, pulling off his suit jacket and then his tie, tossing them carelessly, and then unbuttoning his dress shirt slowly, leaving a kiss on his chest every time more of his pale skin is revealed to you. 

The handsome boy watches your every move as you look up at him while you undo his belt and trousers. Once his pants fall to the ground he kicks them off along with his shoes, bringing you back to him for a needy kiss, your naked chests pressed together. 

“Jump.” You do as you’re told, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands on your ass as he carries you towards the big bed and lays you down on the edge. His lips kiss down your body towards your soaked panties, kneeling in front of you and pulling away to unclasp the heels on your feet. 

Draco hooks his finger around your underwear and you lift your hips so he can slide them off, the cold air on your pussy makes you shiver. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch what he’s about to do to you, a smirk rests on his lips seeing the state you’re in. 

“You’re already dripping love.”  He teases as he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Please just touch me already Draco.” You beg, making him dive right in. His tongue flat against your soaked center, devouring you in every sense of the word. Your hands find his hair tugging on it making him moan against you which in turn makes you scream out his name.

His lips wrap around your clit making your hips buck and you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as you throw your head back, filthy moans spilling from your mouth. Your grip on his hair tightening as he pushes a long finger into your entrance, curling it with every thrust.

“Draco.” You breathe out, not able to form any coherent thoughts as he completely ravishes you. Desperate whines leave your lips as you feel yourself about to release and that’s when he pulls away from you completely.

“When you cum, it’s gonna be around my dick.” He states as he tear off his boxers, watching you shuffle to the center of his bed. His dick slaps him on the stomach and you rub your legs together seeing the precum already leaking out his tip.

“Show me what I’ve been missing out on.” You say, making him smile as he moves to kneel in front of you on the bed, your legs once again wrap around his waist and his dick presses against your slick folds.

He guides himself to your entrance and with a final nod of approval he’s pushing into you. Both moaning as he moves his hips at a steady pace, your soaked walls clenching around him tightly.

Draco’s hands move up the sides of your body, making sure not an inch of skin goes untouched. He lower himself so he can kiss along your neck, sucking on spots that make you moan his name, surely leaving marks that will remind you of this night for the next few days.

Your nails scratch down his back making him groan as he thrusts into you faster. Suddenly he’s pulling out of you and flipping you over so your laying on your stomach. He lifts you hips so you’re on your knees and you arch your back, pushing yourself back on to him desperately.

“You take me so well my love, I always knew you would.” He says as he slams into you repeatedly, completely wrecking your body in the best way possible.

“Oh Draco.” The moans that leave your mouth are relentless once he hits that spot that makes your toes curl and your head feel fuzzy from the pleasure you’re receiving. When his hand wraps around your throat and pulls you up so your back is against his chest you know it was the beginning to the end.

“Who do you belong to (y/n)?” He asks while continuously driving into you.

“I’m yours Draco, I’m all yours.” You cry out as his other hand finds your clit, rubbing circles into you, making your head falls back onto his shoulder as his fingers tightens around your neck.

“Cum for me love.” Is all he says as you finally hit your high. Your walls clench around him and your vision goes white, the waves of pleasure wash over your body as you scream his name. Raspy moans fall from his lips as his release takes over his body, leaving both of you completely spent.

You fall back onto the bed and he lays next you so you’re facing each other. His hand caressing your cheek, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“Every man down there had their eyes on you all night.” He claims.

“I only have eyes for one man and if he keeps fucking me like that I’ll have to marry him.” You tease with a smile on your face, making him laugh.

“I’ve known I would marry you since we were 15 (y/n), I’ve always loved you.” He admits.

“And I love you Draco.”

good morning- jhs | m

through drought and famine, natural disasters, my baby has been around for me.  kingdoms have fallen, angels be calling. none of that could ever make me leave - get you, daniel caesar

↳ summary- hoseok’s methods of waking you up are ... unconventional, but effective.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nsfw

↳ word count- 2.1k

↳ pairing- jung hoseok x reader

↳ genre- smut, the barest amounts of fluff

↳ warnings- dirty talk, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), dry humping? idk, dom/sub undertones, cum facials, begging, dom!hoseok, brat!reader, degradation kink, titty play heyyyy

↳ a/n- heeehhhh hello. this is completely self-serving because god damn do i want to wake up to a throat full of hoseok pls.  i hope you enjoy this bc damn i enjoyed writing it :/ lolol.  please feel free to leave feedback, talk to me, etc etc.  i love hearing from you all!  ILY.  also thanks to the pals in the bhq sprint bc i got the most of this done in there? its SCARILY EFFECTIVE LOL. i love u all

“Good morning, baby.”

The voice of your boyfriend wakes you gently.  His warm hands rub at the bare skin of your back, exposed to the air as you press your face deeper into your pillow.

Hoseok laughs at your groan.  Never the morning person, unlike him.  Hoseok’s body is naturally wired to wake up at 6 am, a smile as bright as the morning sun.  Yours, more like 10, and in need of a cup of coffee before you can even think of a smile.

His hand feels comforting on your back, and it makes the groggy ascent back to reality from dreamland easier.  

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, tickling the skin of your back.

Your reply is a mumble into the pillow, causing your boyfriend to laugh his gentle tinkling laugh again.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You lift your head to peer at the man next to you.  Your hair falls messily in your face and he continues chuckling at your expense as he pushes the hair behind your ears.

“Why are we up so early?” You ask, voice husky with sleep.

“It’s 10:30, baby.”

“That’s basically the crack of dawn.”

Hoseok sighs lovingly and kisses down the spine of your back.  A shiver rolls through you, starting at the tip of your neck and skims down to your toes.   Hoseok has a way with his lips--as if anywhere he touches becomes instantly lit with desire and passion.

You roll over, allow Hoseok’s lips to trace kisses around your navel and up to the expanse of your bed-warmed tits.

You let your eyes soak in the scene playing out in front of you. Hoseok’s bed head tickles the skin of your collarbone as he kisses around your breasts. He holds himself up with golden, toned arms that have you salivating to touch.  He’s naked, as are you.  You definitely fell asleep after rabid and intense fucking that had you collapsing into bed after.

Hoseok’s tongue darts out and licks a stripe over your nipple.  It’s a thick, wet strip of saliva that makes the bud prickle and harden as he blows cool air on the wet spot.

You’re still sleepy and groggy enough that your brain struggles to catch up to the pleasure simmering inside you. A small, throaty gasp tumbled out of your mouth as he pulls your breast into his mouth and sucks gently. His teeth nibble at the flesh for a moment, before he swirls his tongue around and worships your nipple with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whisper as his other hand cups the neglected breast. “Hobi…,” you keen.

He smiles around the nipple in his mouth and continues. You can feel from where he presses his body against you that his cock is getting harder by the second.

“Is this—mmmm—is this what you woke me up for?” You ask.

He pops off your breast with a grin and leans up to look at you.

“I woke up horny.”

“Even after you fucked me until I came 4 times last night?”

Hoseok smiles proudly as he remembers the way your body fell apart beneath him the night previous.

“You drive me crazy. What can I say?”

Hoseok moves off the bed, and he stretches as he stands. You roll to your side to watch and appreciate the view. His back is toned, beautifully tanned, and curves deliciously to his full ass that you can’t resist grabbing when he fucks you from above.

He turns back to face you and you’re met with his thick, and desperately hard cock in your sight line.  Hoseok rubs his abs gently, quirking his head as he watches you stare at his flushed length.

You bring a hand up without thought—fingertips grazing the soft red tip of his cock that’s leaking small droplets of pre-cum.  You’re mystified by the way it smears across his smooth tip, warm and wet coating your finger. You know if you tasted it, reach your tongue out and slip it into your mouth, it’d be salty and sweet all at once.

Hoseok hisses slightly as he feels your sweet fingers roll around his head. His need for you builds, compounds on the interest stored inside him, and he’s nearly aching for you.  

“Baby, I’m not feeling like being teased this morning,” he warns as he watches your tongue dart out between your lips to moisten them.  

You simper a smile at the man standing naked above you.  

“Not even a little?”

Hoseok hums deep in his throat.  It’s a warning sound, encouraging you to slow your roll before you get too far into something you can’t take back.

“Not. Even. A. Little.”  His voice is on the edge of dangerous—and you feel your body clench.

Your body reacts instantly, flames igniting over every inch of skin at the threat.  Your need to submit and your desire to resist are waging war against each other inside of you—you’re not sure who will be victorious.

“What if I feel like teasing?”

The brat side of you cheers on, while the submissive side cowers under the hard stare of Hoseok’s gaze.

His hand drops to grip at your chin, effectively wiping the coy smirk off your face as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Open up, little slut.”

His fingers pry open your mouth and he’s quickly inserting his length inside you until he’s buried into the hilt.  The action makes you gag, and your eyes water and tears drip down your cheeks.

Hoseok isn’t in the mood to play, nor is he in any mood to show mercy.  He sets a pace that's punishing and has your throat expanding to accommodate his thickness.  Saliva pools in your mouth on your tongue, and as you attempt to swirl your tongue to add to the pleasure, it drips from the corners of your mouth and the exposed length of his cock as it pops out of your mouth for a moment.

“Look at you now, hm?” He smirks. “Not so big and bad anymore, are you?”

The tears are running down your face and you move to wipe the spit on your chin but Hoseok blocks you.

“Leave it.  I like it when you look nice and sloppy for me.”

Your hand lowers back to the bed and you shoot a sorrowful gaze up to your boyfriend, who holds his cock at the ready.

“Is that all you’ve got?” You ask with a growing smile.

It makes him growl, and he’s pushing the tip of his cock into your mouth in what feels like a split second.

“Fucking brat,” he groans as he feels your slick mouth accept him heartily.  “Don’t know when to stop, do you? I’ll have to punish you for that.”

His pace is even more punishing than the one set previous.  One hand grips your throat, feeling the way his cock presses against the muscle and bulges out with each unrestrained shove into your open mouth.

His mouth falls open in a silent gape, amazed at how well you take and accommodate him.  His eyes slowly fall shut as he listens to the way your mouth sounds each time you take him—wet, squelching, gagging sounds that have his stomach tightening. You sound blissed, wrecked, debauched.  He can’t believe he’s lucky enough to have a girl like you, one so willing to please and one so willing to play.

Your eyes leak more tears as you will your gagging to slow, ease up.  They stain and streak your cheeks, now ruddy and soaked.  You can’t stop staring at the man above you as he drills into your mouth with no thought of stopping until he’s satisfied.  He’s the love of your life, and you’re desperate to let him work you over until you’re sated completely and thoroughly.

“Take it all, shit, you fucking whore.”

His words spur you on and your eyes widen to a desperate, pleading look as your mouth suctions around his pistoning cock.  The sounds are downright lewd. They echo around the bedroom and it makes your cunt clench around nothing.  It’s a slick sound that mimics the sound of your sopping cunt when Hoseok fucks into you so hard and deep that it makes your toes curl.  Your body can’t tell the difference and you find your hips thrusting on the pillow to sate the burning in your core.

Hoseok notices the way you hump desperately at the bed as he thrusts deeper inside your mouth.  

“Such a slut.  Getting horny from your throat being used like my little cocksleeve, hm?” He asks as his hand moves from your throat to grip your hair tight.  He knows you get off on the pain.

“I bet you can cum, just like that.” He clutches at your hair tighter and pulls, and your hips buck against the sheets harder.  The way the ridges of the mused bedding rubs up against your clit has you moaning around his length.  The vibrations make him sigh and groan.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s right.  Cum on those sheets like the dirty fucking slut you are,” he orders.  “Cum for me and I’ll paint your pretty face white.”

Your eyes are nearly pouring with tears now, a mixture of the gagging around his cock and the sweet heat building in your pussy.  Hoseok’s rough treatment is sending you closer and closer to the edge, and you’re whining around his cock as you move your hips faster, faster and rub as hard as you can at the material between your thighs.

“You going to cum for me, pretty little whore?  Gonna make our bed nice and messy?”  

You want to reply, to beg for more, but Hoseok’s cock jams so deep inside your throat you can barely breathe, let alone speak a response.  Instead, you nod and close your eyes, allow more tears to fall as you hump wildly at the sheets.

“Mm, I’m close baby, you better cum if you want your reward.”  His hips are stuttering and you can tell he’s holding back as much as he can, using his dancer’s stamina to maintain composure.  His fingers dig into your hair and his free hand wipes a tear off your flushed cheeks.  He peers into your eyes as his cock continues its plight in and out of your mouth.

“Cum for me.  Now.”

With his order, and a few more delirious jerks of the sheet between your legs, your body finally hits its max overload and your stomach tightens hard.  It’s a few more pumps of Hoseok’s cock until you’re desperately keening and whining around his cock as your cunt pulsates wildly around nothing.  You can feel the mess building on the sheets, you can tell you’re gushing with arousal from your climax and it spurs you on.  The slick pool of saliva is dropping onto the bed, and you should be ashamed of how you’re drooling from both ends but you can’t find it in you to care.

“God, good fucking girl,” he moans as he pulls his cock out from your mouth and jerks it roughly in front of your face.  “Beg for my fucking cum.”

You’re eager to please now and your eyes are desperate.  You’re positive you look like a mess—eyes watering and dripping tears down your face, mouth covered in your own saliva and dribbling off your chin.

“Cum on my face, please,” you whine.  Your throat is hoarse from the onslaught and it sounds raspier than usual.  “Please, I need your cum.”

Hoseok throws his head back as his hand pumps harder and you can tell by the groaning deep in his throat he’s there—right at the edge.

“Fuck, yes, yes, that’s my good little cumslut,” he whines.

The hot white splatters on your face make you smile widely, a few strips landing on your lips.  It covers your entire face and your tongue slips out between your lips to taste your reward you worked so hard for.  Hoseok groans in time with each pulse of his cock, watching as he covers your beautiful, fresh, morning face with his hot seed.  It’s the picture of perfection.  He loves that you can’t get enough of him, his body, his love, his cum.  

“Shit,” he gasps out loud as he finally finishes emptying his load onto your gorgeous face. “That was fucking hot.”

You smile as your finger drags some of his cum off your face and into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Yeah,” you sigh as you pop your finger out of your mouth. “That’s the only early morning wake up call I’ll accept.”

Hoseok sighs as he leans down to kiss at your lips tenderly.

“For the last time, it’s almost noon.  It’s not early.”

“It is for me.” You insist.

“You’re ridiculous.  But I love you, anyway.”

He tugs you up, guides you towards the bathroom and pushes you to the shower before he joins you.

You think you’d be eager to wake up at the brink of dawn every day, if it meant spending every morning just like this.

An excellent morning, indeed.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

Night at The Fall - Lucifer x Reader

OH LORD this is SUCH an old request from freaking lAsT yEaR oops 

but Its been done :D @ecryveaine I’m so sorry you had to wait so long and you probably don’t even care anymore but here it is 😅

It took forever cuz slumps be like dat ya know lol

Enjoy ~

Prompt: Smut #1 “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” Fandom: Obey Me! Pairing: Lucifer x F! Reader Word Count: 3,681 words Warning(s): NSFW, 18+, mentions alcohol, Dom! Lucifer & Sub! Reader, Rough sex, public/semi-public sex, degrading, pet names, oral sex (BJ), begging, after care, really old and over do oops

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The room is filled to the brim with touching-bodies making the air humid. The music's vibrations rumble through the walls and the floorboards. The alcohol in your bloodstream begins to make your body tingle. You’re in a booth in the corner of the club swaying in your seat to the music. Sitting next to you sipping his scotch was the one and only Lucifer. You look over to him with glossy eyes. “Lets go dance!” you say excitedly leaning close to your lover's ear. Shaking his head he responds, “I don’t want to dance.” His tone is flat as he takes another sip of his beverage. “Well fine. Then you’ll just have to watch me.” Your sassy response is accompanied with a playful smirk on your lips.

Getting up, the alcohol pumping through your veins makes your body loose, allowing the music to move  you with ease. Standing a few feet away from the booth that Lucifer still resides in you begin to lose yourself in the atmosphere around you. Swaying your hips side to side, your arms gliding fluidly to the rhythm. Your eyes close for a moment, enjoying the freedom of movement. Opening your eyes your sight lands upon the hungry gaze of the first born. Reclined in the booth’s velvet cushions, taking slow swings from his glass as his black orbs roam over your form. Adorned in a tight red dress, the garment accenting your figure in an alluring way. His eyes following your every movement, never staying in one spot for long.

After a minute of feeling his gaze analyze your being, you decide you want to toy with him a bit.

As his eyes continue to bore into you, you turn your back to him. Outlining your body and rocking your hips side to side. You look over your shoulder to see if your actions have taken any effect on the demon. Nothing but a half cocked brow changes on his straight face. Running his tongue quickly across his lips he gets up without saying a word to get another drink. You let out a huff, but then a wicked idea pops into your head.

When Lucifer returns to his spot the situation has changed. He left you to dance on your own but returned to see you speaking with another person. A man. Sitting down he crosses  his legs waiting to see what the other demon might pull.

Feeling a piercing stare behind you, you discreetly glance over your shoulder and you see it. You see Lucifer’s face and you sense the fire slowly starting to build within him. Finally getting some kind of rise out of him. You think to yourself ‘Why don't we make this a little more interesting.’ So to add kindling to the fire you smile at the young demon talking to you running your hand down his arm. You ask him to dance with you, cause you still wanted to dance with someone and if Lucifer didn't want to be that person then so be it.

The man standing opposite to you grows excited by your invitation. As the song continues the man inches closer to your body, resting his hands on your hips. A few minutes pass and as a new song begins you turn around, your ass mere centimeters away from the other man’s pelvis. His hands continue to explore your waist. You lock eyes with a certain demon with quite the stern look painted on his face. Tight lipped and arms crossed, his look daring you to go further. Taking him on his silent challenge you press your body firmly against your dance partner. Your head falls back gently resting on his shoulder. The man accepts your warmth and leans in to plant a few chased kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder. That's when Lucifer had enough of this little show of yours.

Standing up Lucifer makes his way over to the two of you and stops right behind the unsuspecting man. Unaware of the spiders web you have just got him caught in. Feeling Lucifer's strong presence the man turns his gaze up at Lucifer’s searing glare. “Uh, got a problem man?” The demon asks a bit agitated from the interruption. “You’re touching what's mine.” Lucifer growls. “Well I didn't see her pressing her ass against you, now did I?” The demon laughs. A cocky grin plastered on his face..

A sadistic smile cuts Lucifer’s lips, “Well keep this up and I promise, you won't be seeing much of anything. Now I suggest you leave while you still have your legs to do so.” His threatening words cause the demon to step back and scurry off to another part of the club. With your arms crossed you pout, “Aww Luci, you could've been a bit nicer to the poor guy.I was just having a little fun. You didn't have to come and ruin it. But since you’re here.” You take a step towards him “I can dance with you now.” Your words come with an innocent smile. Taking Lucifer’s hand, you hold it above your head as you lead him further into the crowd of drunken dancers. The lights hit the smoke in the air creating patterns in your vision. The changing colors of the strobes paint your skin technicolored. Turning back to your lover you return to dancing but this time being more daring with your actions. Twirling your hips in a circle you turn your back to him rubbing your butt on his manhood. Rocking to the music you let a wandering hand wedge itself between you and Lucifer, palming at his crotch a few times before you feel his bruising grip on your wrist. Leaning into your ear, his voice penetrating your entire body. “If I were you I would be mindful of what it is you are doing Y/n.” His tone suggests you to be cautious but the way his words seemed to carve themselves into you made you shiver with delight. Playing innocent you say “I don't know what you mean Luci, I’m just having a little fun with you.” You smirk inwardly, knowing the game you were playing. Knowing the risks of what egging him on could lead to. After a moment of pondering your innocent confession you feel a low fiendish chuckle vibrate against your back. Moving to the music with you, his iron clamp on your hip tightens as he wraps his other arm around you to caress your neck. Pulling you against his chest enabling you to move. “Y/n, don't make me take you home and punish you.” His taunting words make the warmth betwixt your thighs sear like a branding iron. Feeling as if the air is caught within your throat his words continue. “Or perhaps you wish for me to take you here.” Your eyes shoot open at his insinuating words. “I know you wanted to make me jealous, that's why you let that scum put his hands on you.” Your breath quickens from the excitement building within you. Your electrified haze is broken by Lucifer’s sudden movements, your wrist firmly in his fist as he drags you towards the entrance.

Opening the doors of the hot bar a cold gust of wind washes over you, shocking your system. Pulling you to the side now standing in the dark alleyway Lucifer plants your back against the cold-damp concrete wall. Holding your chin up, his face a breath away from yours. “What am I going to do with you Y/n?” He asks with a tsk. His hand slipping down your neck, your side to then rest on your hip. Seeing a light bulb go off in his head a devilish gleam flashes across his eyes. “On your knees.” His words leave you speechless for a second. “But Luc~.” You’re cut off, “I said, on your knees. Now!” His command comes out with more force. Sinking to the ground you look up at him, “Undo my pants.” Another order, you obey. As you undo his belt and unzip his trousers you glance to the side where you hear people leaving and entering The Fall night club. “Lucifer what if someone sees us?” “They won't. And besides you didn't seem to mind what others thought when you were inside. I thought since you could act so shameless in front of others on your feet, you wouldn’t mind doing it on your knees.” Looking down at you, his words wrapped in sin. “Now be a good slut and do as I tell you and maybe I'll reward you after.” His fingers tangle in your hair pulling your face close to his hardened member.

Placing a hand on his thigh and the other gripping his penis. You swallow hard before you open your mouth to drag your tongue up the underside of his shaft. Putting his tip in your mouth beginning to suck, Lucifer pumps your mouth up and down himself to his desired pace. His hips bucking toward its pleasure with every few bobs of your head. His breath becoming deeper, you begin to hear low growls leaking from his throat. Looking up through your lashes you see the predatory look in his eyes. The way he looks at you like a hungry lion eyeing a wounded gazelle. Devouring you with his gaze, making you shrink under his intensity as he uses your mouth for his own needs.

After he is satisfied with the use of your mouth he pulls you back gasping, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock. Before you are able to catch your breath he hoists you back to your feet, facing you towards the wall. Pulling your hips back with his strong hands as he roughly yanks up the hem of your dress over your ass. The cool air against your skin makes your legs tremble. “Hmm.” An amused hum meets your ears. “You really are something. Coming out here in this little dress wearing no panties.” Punctuating his statement with a firm smack against your right asscheek. Pulling a fistful of your hair back, making your back form a u-shape. “You wanted me to use you tonight, huh?” Putting his fingers between your legs he feels your essence coating his digits. “Look at you, sopping wet like a bitch in heat and all from having my cock in your throat. I wonder just how much further I can take you before I break you.”

Sliding his tip against your entrance, reviling in its sinful decadence. Craving more of what your body has for him. Putting his slick covered fingers into your mouth tasting  yourself  as he slams his hips against yours. Your moans muffled by his fingers. The sudden intrusion makes your knees buckle.

He starts to pump into your core with powerful thrusts. Sounds of flesh smacking and stifled cries echo in the empty alleyway. Contorting your head back to continue his assault on your ears, filling your brain with nothing but his voice. “Look at you defenseless against me. Completely at my mercy. You love having my cock stuffed inside you don't you?” Unable to say anything you nod your head. Letting out a choked groan, the way he is fucking you and your backs bent is proventing you from taking a full breath. “I’m sure the thought that any one of those people walking in and out of that door over there could look over and see us gets you off. Huh, Princess.” Unable to do anything once again but nod your head in agreement as pleasure consumes you whole. Feeling as if the world is spinning, your brain incapable of knowing up from down at this point. His masterful thrusts hitting you in just the right spot over and over again. His words, pushing you closer to the edge. “You're such a little whore for my cock. I should’ve defiled you right in front of everyone, so they could see just how dirty you really are. You would've liked that huh?” A choked out “Yes'' leaves your lips causing a pleased smile to grace Lucifer's face. “Yes, what?” he asks with a hard spank, a red mark colors your butt. “Y-yes Master.” You corrected your response earning you a heated kiss before releasing your face. Dropping your head down stretching your neck from the unnatural position you were in. He pulls both your arms back holding you by your elbows as he begins to mercilessly pound into your womanhood.

Your knees feel weak. Unsure whether you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, Lucifer’s grip on you doesn’t falter. Still trying to suppress the moans from erupting from your throat you let out whispered screams to try and get some release. “Still trying to hold back? Well that's fine I guess I’ll have to pry those sweet sounds out of you.” His threat makes you involuntarily whimper, unsure if you can take much more of this relentless fucking he’s giving you. “P-please I don't know if I can take any more.” You confess hoping he will let up a bit, but how naive you were to dream of that happening.

“Oh I’m sorry, Y/n. Am I being too rough with you?” As he speaks in a mocking tone his thrusts slow down to long agonizing pumps. “I’m sorry.” Relieved that the pace has slowed down but the anxiety of what he has in store for you next  keeps you from letting your guard down. His grip on your elbows disappears allowing you to stretch your arms. His large palms feel up and down your sides as he places kisses on your shoulder. You begin to lose yourself in this new found softness for a moment before it stops, “Well Princess, If you don’t like how I’m fucking you then, you do it!” He says, pulling out of you. Turning you around to face him, his eyes hungry. He picks you up like you’re weightless. Wrapping your arms and legs around him to keep yourself up. Eyes locked. His forehead to yours. “Cause either way, I am having you!”

Inserting himself back into your wetness you let out a weary gasp, His hands firmly gripping your ass “Start moving.” His commanding words make you move innately as if you don't have control over your own body anymore. This body that claims to be yours but when his stringent words fill your ears you are reminded of who really governs it. With every twist of his lips and smack of his palm you are consumed with the ever present desire to please him. To give up your body for this ravenous beast. Presenting yourself, a banquet of erotic delicacies that only you can offer him. Wanting him to devour you with every kiss, needing him to take your body past its limits. Your muscles strain as they loop around his toned form, screaming to keep you up. Your hips eagerly trying to take in every inch of his manhood. Growing increasingly exasperated, feeling as if you can't get close enough. “Come on is that the best you can do? Prove to me that you want my cock.” His taunting words don’t register in your mind, every syllable blurs together as you try and focus on keeping yourself up and moving your hips. The heat inside you is enough to make you feel like you’re melting. Allowing yourself to be putty in his hands as he molds you to what he wants. Shaping yourself around his body like a puzzle piece. His dark silky locks are tightly wound in your shaking digits. Your face buried in his neck. Sinking your teeth into his shoulder trying desperately to muffle your cries of pleasure. A hiss is heard as Lucifer sucks in through his teeth. A dark chuckle erupts from his chest. “We’re biting now are we? Well then~” With his amusement you let out a little squeal as Lucifer digs his fingernails into the plump skin of your ass. His hands assisting you in your movements, your hips meet each other with bruising force. The sound of skin slapping against each other and muffled screams emanate from the dark alleyway. “Fuck!” His hoarse whisper vibrates through your weak body. Trying desperately to keep your grip around him. Detaching from his shoulder you meet his gaze. Directing him you kiss him hungrily. Tears pricking your eyes, moaning into his lips.  All your senses being stimulated. His touch. His taste. His smell. His moans. All of it fills you up. Nearing your breaking point you hug him closer, if that was even possible. With every stroke of his shaft inside you you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge. The coil inside you coming undone burns in your belly. Seeking your end you move your hips faster. Not caring if anyone can see or hear you. All you care about is him. This moment. Your end. Nothing else mattered but the pleasure between you two.

Just a few more movements of your hips and you feel the string holding you together snap. You kiss Lucifer as you climax. Muffling your sweet cries of passion. Your walls convulse around his manhood, urging him to keep going. Riding out your orgasm you feel his cock twitch signifying his impending end.  Not having a chance to come down for your high, being over stimulated by his never wavering need to fill  you with his seed. Claiming you as his. His mind, that of an animal, focusing solely on marking his territory. He will have everyone that sees you know your his. If not from the marks he leaves behind then from his semen dripping down your legs. His feverish movements become sloppier. Looking into your eyes, foreheads touching he releases his essence inside you. Your walls are coated with hot ropes of cum, as he maintains a slow pace. Milking his cock for all it has.

With his back to the wall, standing there motionlessly in silence. A minute passes. Both breathless, calming down from the ride you went on. The excitement melting into tiredness. Your head rests limp against his before sweeping the loose hair in your face. Looking at him, your eyes, heavy. Cradling your  face like a prized gem, rubbing your cheek with his thumb he pulls you in for a tender kiss. “You okay? Do you think you can walk?” He asks, a new found softness to his once rough voice. You nod your head, “I’m okay.” You offer a smile and catch his lips again. Reveling in the aftermath of your heated moment. You gasp as he pulls out slowly. Placing your feet on the ground he waits for you to steady yourself. Fixing your clothes you look over to him as he buckles his belt back on. Draping his blazer over your shoulders he lifts your chin. “Let’s go home, I’ll draw you a nice bath.” Kissing your forehead you wrap your arms around his waist. “That sounds nice.” You say with a smile.

Taking your first step to leave the alleyway Lucifer catches you as you stumble a bit. I guess walking in heels on cobblestone after a particularly aggressive fucking isn’t that easy. Laughing it off you feel his strong arms pick you up. “Here I’ll walk you to the car.” Accepting his offer you rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the car that’s picking you up.. On the drive home you both are relaxed in each other's arms. His fingers draw patterns on your shoulder as he breathes in your shampoo.

Once at the house of Lamentation you and Lucifer went separate ways. Him to the bathroom to run you a bath and you to your room to get unready.

Walking into the dimly lit bathroom the only light coming from the lit tea candles. The bath is filled with steaming water and a mountain of bubbles. The hint of lavender and sage hangs in the air. “I got you a glass of water as well. Do you need help getting in?” Lucifer asks as he helps derobe you. Nodding your head, he hangs your robe  on a hook as you take his hand. Stepping into the bath you sigh at the perfect temperature. Bubbles surrounding you as you sink further into the water. The tension in your muscles drifts away as the water warms you up. Looking over to Lucifer you give him a smile. “Won't you join me?” You ask. Your question tugs the corners of his lips up. His eyes are soft as he begins to strip his body of his clothing. You can’t take your eyes off him as he does. With your gaze locked you can’t help but feel warm all over but this time not from the water. You are washed over with such love for this man. A man that can drive you mad with desire and lust but also make you feel like a schoolgirl with their crush. He can be an animal one minute and a prince the next. While in your thoughts you feel Lucifer step in behind you. Your back against his chest, skin to skin. His arms wrap around your front, you rest your head back on his shoulder. Back in that comfortable silence. Your energies intermingling. Engaged in another act of intimacy, one that's softer but just as passionate. ‘I really do love this man.’

Your thoughts make you laugh. “What are you laughing about?” He asks, placing a light kiss on your head. “Oh nothing. Just thinking about how much I love you.” You look up  to see him smile at your comment. “And how much is that?” He asks playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” You say back, flicking some water in his face. You both get lost in laughter before he pulls you in for a kiss. “I bet if I try hard enough I can get you to tell me.” He says holding your cheek. “We’ll see about that.”

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Golly gosh that was kinda long but also soo freakin old lol idek if its good at this point I read it so many times xD

But I hope you enjoyed it :3 and hopefully unless school doesnt keep kicking me in the face I can slowly keep getting more out 😅

💛 ~

The Art of Love (Part 7) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day Weekend my loves! I’m finally getting back into this story. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish it up soon, but no promises. lol but I hope you enjoy. I wanted to get this out because this year the dates actually line up lol so here we are. 

Summary: You and Steve host his mom and Bucky for dinner. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers 

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots 

Word Count: 1968

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers​

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic) ​

You were unable to tear your eyes away from Steve as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it in the hamper, though you rolled your eyes when he laughed at you. It wasn’t until you heard him singing Sexyback that you huffed and turned back to the dresses.

You stared at your remaining options. You couldn’t help but smile when you came to a decision. If you were right, you knew exactly why it was his favorite. After you packed away the rest of the dresses you flopped down on the bed scrolling through your notifications.

“Did you make a decision?” Steve asked as he exited the bathroom, dressed in his jeans and white tank top but barefoot.

You gestured to the closet where the blue wrap dress hung next to his shirt.

Steve looked at it and grinned.

“My favorite.” Steve laid on his side next to you, propping his head in his hand. “We really should go back to California soon.”

You rolled on your side to mimic his position.

“I’d love that. Ooh maybe in the winter though because it’ll be nice and warm,” you giggled.

“That’s a great idea.”

You dropped your gaze from his and started tracing the pattern of his bedspread.

“What’s going through your head, sweetheart?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his own.

“Just going over what’s left to do for tonight.”

“Everything is all set. There’s nothing left for you to do except to get ready.”

“How long do I have?”

Steve glanced at his phone.

“About an hour.”

“Okay, that’s probably enough time to make myself presentable,” you fretted.  

He cupped your cheek, focusing your attention on him.

“Sweetheart, please stop worrying. You are always beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. It’s my professional opinion. Are you doubting someone who almost has a bachelor’s in fine arts?” he demanded haughtily.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” he beamed.

“That I do.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower. Take your time and relax. I even bought the candle you like.”

“Summer storm?”

“Yup.”

“You’re the best.”

You kissed him on the cheek as you climbed over him to go shower.

The shower helped calm your nerves and when the water ran cold you wrapped yourself in the fluffy towel Steve had bought just for you and padded back into the bedroom.

You kept the music on low as you got ready, fixing your hair and doing some light make up. When you were satisfied with your appearance you tugged on the dress and slid your feet into the low heels. The final touch was the silver necklace of a dancer that Steve had bought you for your first showcase.

“So how do I look?” you asked as you stood beside the TV.

“Beautiful.”

He patted the spot beside him on the couch and you happily joined him. He immediately twined his fingers through yours.

“I’m really glad that you’re here with me tonight. I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

He brought your hands up so he could kiss your knuckles you couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at your lips. Your shower and primping had taken less time than you expected so you and Steve passed the time watching the Good Place.

You were tucked neatly into Steve’s side as you waited for his mom and Bucky to arrive. As his nerves mounted yours seemed to recede and you rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles.

“Relax, Steve. It’s your mom and Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about. The three people I love the most are all going to be in the same place.”

“I thought you weren’t worried about me meeting your mom.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me. The three people who have the most dirt on me in the same room. Yikes.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I live to lift you up. But I hope she brought baby pictures.”

“You’re awful.”

“You love me.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

He pulled you closer and kissed the crown of your head.

“Good because I do. Mmm. You smell good.”

“I smell like you.” you giggled. “I forgot my shower gel.”

“Yeah but it’s your shampoo. It’s the perfect combination.”

You were interrupted by keys jangling and the door swinging open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Hey, Smudge. Hey, Stevie.”

Neither of you moved from the couch as he hung his jacket up and walked into the kitchen.

“God it smells great in here.”

“Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare eat anything to spoil your appetite.”

“But I’m starving,” he whined.

“We’re having appetizers as soon as Steve’s mom gets here. Just wait.”

Bucky pouted into his beer as he sank into the opposite end of the couch.

“I promise it’s worth it.”

“I’m sure it is, doll”

“You’re too sweet, Buck. What did you do today?”

“I spent most of it at the hospital. A spot on their Saturday shift opened up so I took it.”

“Aw that’s great. You didn’t think you’d be able to this semester.”

“I know. I’m really glad. There’s this really sweet girl who just is amazing.”

You and Steve shared a smile at the excitement and fondness in his voice.

The three of you chatted, until your nerves got the best of you and you moved into the kitchen to triple check everything for dinner. The boys trailed behind you, but stayed out of your way.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it buzzed and you tracked Steve as he went to greet his mom. Bucky used your distraction to swipe a grape earning him a rap on the knuckles with a cheese knife.

“Hands off, Buck.”

“Aw come on, doll.”

“No more.”

Bucky pouted but kept his hands to himself as you retrieved the glasses from the cabinet.

Steve was laughing when he opened the door with the one and only Sarah Rogers trailing behind him. She smiled brightly when she spotted you and Bucky. You quickly wiped your hands on the dish towel and hurried to greet her.

“Hi, Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you, darling. Please call me, Sarah.”

Once Steve took her coat she leaned forward to kiss you on each cheek.

“Hello, James.”

“Hey, Aunt Sarah,” he grinned around a mouthful of cheese.

“Buck!”

“Sorry, Smudge!”

Rolling your eyes you headed back into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ma?”

“I’ll just have some water.”

“Regular water or seltzer water.”

“Regular please, dear.”

“Sweetheart do you want anything.”

“Water please.”

You retrieved the charcuterie board fiddling slightly trying to disguise the gap Bucky’s munchies had left. He had the good grace to look apologetic when you glared in his direction.

Sarah had made herself comfortable in the arm chair and Bucky took the chair and a half across from her leaving you to sit beside Steve on the couch. He patted your knee before taking your hand as he had earlier.

“How was your Saturday? Did you work today?” Steve asked.

“No, I’m off this weekend. I went grocery shopping. Needed to stock up on a few items. It was a mad house though.”

“Really? It was quiet when we were there,” Steve hummed.

“We were there at like 6:30,” you pointed out.

“True. And it was getting crowded when we were finishing up.”

“I wonder why.”

Bucky and Sarah gaped at the two of you.

“You two really do live under a rock in that arts building don’t you?”

Sarah laughed at Bucky’s observation.

“Why? What are we missing?”

“There’s a blizzard coming tomorrow. Everyone was stocking up before the storm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh. It’s been on every news station for a week. What have you been doing?”

“Avoiding my phone at all costs,” you admitted.

Steve shrugged his agreement. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, I hope you got more than just food for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re all set,” Steve assured his mom. “We’ll just hunker down here for the next few days.”

“Absolutely. It’s not like we were planning to leave for the next couple of days anyways,” you agreed.

“Oh did you two have plans for the holiday?”

You squirmed under Sarah’s amused but expectant gaze, not wanting to give her the wrong impression.

“Tomorrow is our annual Lord of the Rings Marathon. We do it every year,” Steve explained with a grin.

“How did that come about?”

“During Freshman year, I got really sick right around Valentine’s Day. And my roommate, and pretty much everyone else I knew had gone on this ski trip that whole week. Steve was worried about me so he brought me pancakes from the dining hall and chicken noodle soup and stayed with me the whole weekend. We watched a ton of movies, but somehow Lord of the Rings became a tradition.”  

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah it is.”

You squeezed as his hand as he looked over at you with that soft smile you loved so much.

Steve patted his stomach and hummed as he sat back in his chair, nudging your knee with his. Bucky was wiping his bowl with the last of the rolls, and Sarah demurely wiped at her mouth.

“Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’ve got to say, Y/n, I’m impressed you’ve taught my son to cook.”

“I wouldn’t say I taught him. We more figured it out together. Poor Bucky had to taste test a lot of nearly inedible things.”

“Except her baking. That’s always been amazing,” Bucky piped up as he shoved the last roll into his mouth.  

“Speaking of, I should get the pie in the oven to warm up or we won’t have dessert until midnight,” you fretted.  

“I’ve got it, sweetheart. Just relax.”

“I’m sure the boys won’t mind cleaning up.”

You glance at Steve who nods encouragingly before hopping to his feet, squeezing your shoulders as he kissed the top of your head as he passed by. Bucky finished chewing and began to clear the dishes.

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” she suggested.

You nodded and grabbed your glass and followed her, sitting next to the older woman.

“I’m so glad that we’re finally getting to spend some time together. Steve never stops talking about you. You’re clearly very special to him.”

You couldn’t help but look over at him, smiling as he elbowed Bucky out of the way at the sink.

“He’s very special to me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he can get lost in his work.”

“He does the same for me.”

“I also have to say, you’re a beautiful dancer. I’m looking forward to your performance at the Showcase. It’s always been a highlight in the past.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m flattered.”

“I also saw that you and Steve were celebrating a new job last night?”

“Yes, I just joined the Howling Commando Stage Troupe as a dancer and assistant choreographer.”

“Oh that’s so exciting. Congratulations. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes, absolutely. They’ll send me the info for the summer series in a few weeks.”

“And how does one manage being a dancer and a choreographer at the same time.”

“The Howlies always mount two shows simultaneously, so I’ll be dancing in one show while I help choreograph the other.”

“Ah, I see. Well that is quite the undertaking, but I’m sure it will all be beautiful. You’ll have to let me know when opening night is. I would love to come and see you.”

Her earnest support caught you off guard.

“Of course,” you finally managed. “Thank you.”  

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed ! 

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Practice room - M.T.

a/n: hi! so this is my first post ig. i hope it’s okay lol. it’s honestly kind of a lot but mark really just had me like wowww. but i hope you enjoy! it’s very dirty with a couple lil soft moments. but mostly just sin.

member- mark tuan 

summary- mark is stressed since he can’t get down a choreo so you help him out by letting him use you to fuck out his frustration. 

word count-  3.5k 

warnings- so many. public place, face fucking, fingering, slight degradation, dom!mark, sub!reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, mirror kink, choking kink, hair pulling, little bit of praising ig. idk this shit is just filthy man.

mark stumbles once again, landing with a loud groan. "fuck!" he exclaims angrily, tugging on his hair with one hand. he sighs and sits there for moment with his elbows resting on his knees, head in hands. you watch your boyfriend with a frown and get up to move over to him. placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, you crouch down so you're sitting behind him.

"baby, come on," you sigh at him, soothingly rubbing his back. "you've worked so hard today. all the boys left almost two hours ago, we should go home so you can rest." he just shakes his head and stares at the floor.

"no. i have to get this. they left because they had it down just fine. i keep messing this up. i don't know what's wrong with me, i've never had such a hard time with getting a fucking dance down and now it's just..." he trails off with a sigh. he rubs his face in frustration as you rest your head on his shoulder. you leave a light kiss on his cheek, trying anything to help soothe the man you love so much. seeing him so stressed out always brings you down. you just always want to see that smile that you fell so, so in love with.

mark stands and holds a hand out to you. he pulls you to the couch at the back of the practice room and sits down, pulling you down next to him. "i'm sorry, babe. i know you probably just want to go home already. i promise we will soon," he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side. a sigh leave his lips as he hugs you tight, his head resting on top of yours. "i just need to get that one move down first, i'm sorry."

"i know you want to get it right now, mark. but you're a good dancer, okay? you'll get it down, i know it. you're just stressed right now. and over worked. you need to relax. rest. or maybe at least blow off some steam." you look up and place a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his soft skin soothingly. his eyes close as your touch helps him feel better already.

it doesn't take long for an idea to pop into your head. you take your hand from his face and shift so your kneeling next to him on the couch. because of this his eyes open and he lifts his head to look at you, his head cocking slightly when he can see the look on your face.

"what's on your mind baby?" the slight undertone in his voice hints that he probably already knows the answer. when his hand moves to rub your thigh softly, it’s obvious that he definitely knows what you have in mind. he can read you so easily, you don't have to say a thing for him to know what you want and when, but he always loves making you say it anyways.

"nothing, just... i think i know how i can help you..."

you lean forward slightly to catch his lips on yours, one hand move to caress his neck. the kiss is slow and meaningful. you want him to know that you just want to help him. soon enough you pick up the pace, though, moving your tongue into his mouth and nipping at his lips.

he lets out a soft moan when you move to kiss his at neck and what his tank top exposes of his chest. "you're too good to me baby," you move to straddle him and look into his eyes, lust clouding his and no doubt yours too.

you hum and shake your head, leaning to leave more kisses on his neck. "no, you deserve everything and more my love." you grind your hips slightly down on his. "now come on, markie. use me to blow of some steam." your voice a seductive whisper, you take both of his hands in yours and place them on your hips. his fingers dig into you enough to leave bruises later, yet he's still gentle when he pulls you closer to his chest, letting you be in control for a little bit before he inevitably takes over. your hands start on his face as you lean in to kiss his lips. you slowly move your mouth downward as you continue to kiss his lips and neck, leaving plenty of marks on his neck and collarbone. got7s makeup artists will be very bothered when they have to cover all the dark spots on his neck, but neither of you care at all. you kiss and bite all the way down his chest, his abs, all the way back up then down again a few times.

finally your hands settle over his dick, rubbing him through his sweatpants. he lets out a throaty groan as your hands work on him, your lips focused on the sweet spot on his neck as you do. soon your lips are back on his and he pulls you so your chests are pressed together and your arms go around his neck, you hold each other as close as you can as you move your hips over him again and again. he does most of the work, his hands on your hips guiding your movements and pace.

it doesn't take too long before you're both moaning loudly and he's hard as a rock.

he tangles a hand in your hair and pulls you back, your eyes closing as the sensation rips a moan from your mouth, and his other hand is keeping your heat moving against him deliciously. the thin material of your leggings let's you feel his dick under his sweatpants rubbing against you so nicely, making you glad you decided against underwear today.

"look at me," he growls lowly as he pulls your hair roughly, to force you to open your eyes and meet his as you try to roll your head back. you gasp and look at him while panting, the look in his eyes telling you that he's no longer going to give you any control. you being in control never lasts long as mark just always ends up wanting to completely dominate you. he loves knowing you’re totally at his will, ready and eager to do what he tells you to and let him do whatever he wants to do to you.

"you really want me to fuck you in the practice room, baby? i know everyone is gone this late, y/n, but still... we're in public and you want me to fuck you anyways?" his voice is deep as he leaves kisses on your neck every few words. his tone is teasing, fake sweet. he digs his fingers into your hips even harder than they were, the slight pain blurring to pleasure. you moan and nod quickly, not even caring how desperate you must seem as you whine pathetically. you started wanting to pleasure him, but you know he is pleased seeing you like this. he could get off just on how needy you can get for his dick.

"look at my little slut. always so quick to get worked up," he smirks while watching your hips against his. marks eyes flash up to meet yours for a moment before he can't help but pull your head forward again, hurriedly crashing your guys’ lips together. after kissing you for a moment, just enough so he can taste your mouth again, he pulls away and looks at you fondly. "i want you on your knees baby. i need those pretty lips on my cock now."

you nod slightly before quickly moving from his lap, settling yourself so you're kneeling between his legs on the floor. he strokes your hair as your hands rub up his thighs, making your way for the waistband of his grey sweats. your fingers move under his waistband and he lifts his hips up to let you pull his sweatpants and boxers down at once. as you watch his dick swing up and hit his his stomach you can feel how excited you are to have him in your mouth.

you bite your lip and lean forward, starting by pumping him in your hand. you nearly moan just at the feeling of having your hand wrapped around him again. you can never help how you're just always so eager to feel his dick every time you guys have sex. whether it's with your hand, mouth, pussy, or anything you just love touching his thick cock.

slowly, you stick your tongue out to lick his head, looking up at him to watch his reaction. he stares down at you, breathing heavy in anticipation. you take the tip into your mouth and swirl your tongue around, mark sinking his teeth into his lower lip at the feeling. he lets you take your time for a while, you slowly work further and further down his length and his head falls back into the back of the couch as you take all of him. your nails dig into his thighs as his tip hits the back of your throat, forcing yourself to hold back your gagging.

after a few minutes of you just slowly moving your mouth up and down on him, taking every inch every time you go back down. but he can't hold himself back for too long before his hand is back in your hair, starting by just lightly pushing your head down and pulling your hair to bring you back up. he grunts slightly as he picks up the pace, and eventually his hips are bucking up to meet your mouth. tears begin to pool up in your eyes, but you don't even care.

you grip his thighs harder and let out a moan as he roughly fucks your mouth, almost making you gag every couple of thrusts. the way his low moans and grunts sound only makes you wetter against your leggings, your thighs pressing together for some sort of friction.

finally he pulls your head up, you gasping in a breath immediately. he pants while taking in your appearance, and you look so fucking pretty to him like this. with swollen lips and messy hair, still catching your breath, tears running down your cheeks and drool going down your chin and neck. "shit, baby... you look so fucking hot," he growls and pulls you back up to sit in his lap again.

despite how rough he's being with you he still lifts the hem of his shirt to your face, tenderly wiping your tears then the drool from your face and neck. "you're always so good when you let me fuck your pretty mouth... are you okay baby?" he tilts his head. you can tell he's still intending to treat you rough, set on completely ruining you, but he genuinely wants to make sure you're still okay with how rough he’s being. even when he knows you love being handled like this he never wants to go too far on accident.

you smile and nod with a hum. you lean down to kiss him and he remains sweet for a moment, kissing you so passionately and softly you could melt away. but soon his hands are on your hips and he pulls you back against him, his hands slip under your sweater and rub at your warm skin before pulling back and lifting your it off of you. he reconnects your lips and next he's hooking his fingers to pull your leggings down just enough so he can fuck you, but not all the way off. he quickly pulls away from your mouth and his eyes go right to your bare core.

"you're not even wearing underwear?" there's a dark look in his eyes. all you can do is shake your head and hum no, your voice caught in your throat. "you really are just my little slut, huh, baby?" he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles against it a couple times. his fingers move up and down your slit, moving around your wetness as he does. he laughs when he feels how wet you are already.

"you like sucking me off this much, hm?" he looks up at you, tilting his head to the side with an amused and smug smile. "come on baby, i know i was rough on your throat...” he moves his hand as if he’s about to choke you, but he doesn’t put any pressure. “but it's not like you've lost your voice... answer me." his smiles falls just as he shoves two fingers into you, your jaw dropping at the sudden stretch. all you can do is let out small whines as he takes no mercy, scissoring his fingers apart inside you. "now," he speaks through gritted teeth as he fingers you.

"yes," you rasp out, your voice sounding rough with how abused your throat just was. "i fucking love sucking you off mark, and i fucking love when you fuck my mouth. it always makes me so wet, mark. i fucking love it,” you ramble a little as your breathing becomes heavy. “god... please, markie, i want your dick inside me so bad right now. please fuck me, mark."

he has to hold back a moan at your words, still not stopping his fingers inside you. the expression on your face as you beg him to stick his dick inside you is so innocent and it completely contradicts not only what your saying, also the fact that your letting him do all this to you in public. at his work place, nonetheless. his head moves down to kiss your neck and shoulder while he ignores your pleas, having the time of his life with his fingers attacking your pussy. he pulls back so he can see, watching his fingers slip in and out of your soaking pussy.

hoping he'll hurry and give you what you want, you whine and force another please to slip from your mouth, but it sounds more like another pathetic moan than an actual word. once again the corner of mark’s lips turn up into another smug smirk, tilting his head up at you to watch you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"you're so fucking needy," he growls out. but he still moves his fingers away, placing his other hand on the back of your neck to pull your face closer to his, your noses almost touching. "if you really want me to fuck you that bad then fine," he crashes his lips against yours, only lingering for a moment before pulling back away. "get up," he demands with a sharp slap to your ass that makes you gasp. you're quick to listen, standing up in front of him.

he pulls your pants down the rest of the way and uses his hands on your hips to spin you around and pull you back down on his lap, feeling his dick right against your ass. he lifts your hips and brings you back down on his dick, stuffing all of himself in you all at once just because he wants to hear you moan out loudly. he hums at the feeling of you around him and the sight of your ass on his lap.

one of his arms is wrapped across the front of your waist, his other hand grips one of your tits as he moves his mouth close to your ear. you shiver as his breath hits your ear, him already guiding you to move up and down on him at a fairly quick pace. "look at yourself in the mirror, baby. i want you to see how fucking hot you look while i fuck you," his voice is so deep and low in your ear, sending another shiver through your body as you can only nod. you stare at yourself in the huge mirror on the wall across from your guys’ spot on the couch.

mark leans back on the couch and holds your hips in place with both hands, beginning to buck his own hips up hard and fast. you can't help the moans and curses that pour from your mouth as your left hand goes to grip mark’s arm, trying to steady yourself as his thrusts make you jolt forward every time, even with his hands on your hips to help with keeping you in place. you try your best to do as he said and watch him fucking you in the mirror but you get so lost in the pleasure that your head falls back and your eyes close in bliss.

his right hand stays gripping your hips tightly, your own hand gripping that arm tightly as well still, but he lets go of your other hip. he uses that hand to plant a loud smack on your ass and then he grabs a fistful of hair and harshly forces you to look back up at the mirror. "watch," is all he says. you breathe heavily and whine, but still listen and force your eyes open to look at yourself in the mirror.

your hair is so messy, your cheeks are red and tear stained, and hickeys litter your neck and chest and shoulders. you look roughed the fuck up but that thought only makes you even wetter, as if you weren't already soaking. mark watches as his dick slides in and out of you with ease, low groans and grunts coming from his throat as you drip all over him.

"you're so fucking wet. how are you so fucking wet," he grumbles. "and you sound so fucking filthy. the way you’re moaning so loud for me, baby. you like me fucking you here? right here where you know someone could still walk in, hm? fuck, you're such a dirty little slut for me."

his words only push you closer to the orgasm you feel building while his tip hits your spot every time he snaps up into you. he wraps his arm around your front and pulls you to lay back on his chest as he keeps up his fast and rough pace. one hand stays in your hair and the other travels up your body, his touch raising goosebumps on your skin. his hand stops at your boobs, taking some time to knead each one in his hand, pinching and pulling at your nipples. his lips are on your neck again too and you watch the whole scene, taking in how dirty this is. the pleasure keeps building and building and it's all too much, you know you're going to cum soon. you let your head fall back on his shoulder as high pitched moans fall from your mouth sinfully.

he can feel it too, your walls are clenching around him so tight and it pushes him further and further towards his own high. he knows both of you won't last much longer, so he moves on from your boobs and goes up even more, resting on your neck. his hand tightens around your neck, just enough to make your mind foggy with all the pleasure, and he tugs your hair harder.

"come on baby, i know your gonna come. will you be a good girl and watch yourself cum for me?" you try to force your eyes open, your vision blurred as you can barely get them open. it’s difficult, but still you manage to open them more. "good girl," his voice is so honey like in your ear even as he's panting so hard. you know you need to cum, but you can't say anything with his hand around your throat, not that you mind.

"it's okay, baby, let go. go ahead and cum all over my cock," with his permission you don't hesitate to let your orgasm wash over you, taking over as your sounds get caught in your throat, your mouth open wide and tears pricking at your eyes. feeling you cum around him makes mark speed up even more, brutally fucking you through your high while still chasing his own. his hand also tightens around your throat, and now you can barely breathe but you fucking love it. you shudder from the overstimulation, your brain is too clouded to think anything.

it's not long before mark’s thrusts get sloppier and he's twitching inside you, his cum painting your walls as he slows down. the hand on your neck loosens as he cums, the other dropping from your head too. he moves both hands back to your hips, grinding you hard onto him once as you both come down.

"fuck." he pants and just wraps his arms around you as you go limp on top of him and your head falls back on his shoulder. his dick still inside you, you both catch your breaths and mark leaves soft kisses on your shoulder. after a minute he lifts you slightly and pulls out of you, making you wince at the feeling of being empty.

"i love you so much, y/n. thank you so much," he pants out, both of you still breathing pretty heavily. you smile softly and turn your head to look up at your boyfriend.

"i love you too, mark. anything to help you relax baby. besides, i guess i had fun too."

he raises his eyebrows and scoffs, smiling a little as you smirk. "you guess? did you hear yourself a few minutes ago?" he laughs as you blush, looking away from him and bringing a hand to cover your embarrassed laugh. the light moment is turned dark again in a second when mark moves to whisper in your ear.

"i know you saw yourself. how fucked out you looked," your breath hitches in your throat at the reminder of the sight of yourself.

"but if you only 'guess' you had fun, we'll just have to get home so i can really show you a fun time, huh?"

BUDDIE-

Gives nose/forehead kisses

buck loves to lean down, kiss the top of eddie’s head whenever eddie’s sleeping or dozing. eddie pretends it doesn’t happen just so he can feign sleep. eddie’s desperate for the touch of someone else, for someone to take him in their arms and-

buck knows. buck always knows, and he’ll lean in, brush a kiss to eddie’s nose, and eddie will look, see, and it’ll be an easy step from there to a press of lips.

Gets jealous the most

eddie. that boy has ZERO chill when it comes to people moving up on buck. he fought hard for buck (even went to therapy) and he’ll be damned if other people even THINK-

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

@hearteyesforbuck and i have a headcanon (made today, yes we do eli) where eddie gets super drunk because it’s the only way he can suffer Feelings with buck so it’s usually buck picking him up. (buck gets drunk in the privacy of their own home where they can get handsy without their coworkers or the general public seeing them, eddie)

Takes care of on sick days

eddie. eddie, eddie, eddie. buck wouldn’t even notice he was sick. eddie likes taking care of people; it’s how he shows his love. he makes soup (lol he gets abuela to make soup). he goes to the pharmacy. he makes sure buck’s warm/cool/whatever he needs. he’s also overbearing, but buck loves him anyway, and it’s honestly sweet how caring he can be and not even realize it.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

i mean, buck has issues with water. BUT, eddie takes buck’s hands, helps him breathe it out. tells him softly to close his eyes, that he’s got him, he’s not gonna let anything happen to buck. he ghosts a kiss over buck’s cheek and buck goes, sucks in a breath at the water, but eddie’s there, eddie’s holding him. he takes a step, another. 

Gives unprompted massages

buck read somewhere they’re supposed to help in the long term and honestly, eddie’s shoulders are - well. they’re amazing. eddie’s got this way of going boneless under his hands, relaxing in ways buck doesn’t often see. he’s a little addicted to the unprompted noises eddie makes, the way he’ll be soft and ridiculous after, kissing buck with abandon, spreading out on the couch like there’s nowhere else he wants to be than with buck.

Drives/rides shotgun

eddie doesn’t drive if he doesn’t have to. he’s probably gonna have to sell his damn truck, so he carpools with buck. on the days they don’t share a shift, buck drives him in anyway, leaning across the center console to steal a kiss. eddie’s getting better with pda, leans into the touch and says, “thanks. see you at home.”

“yeah,” buck will reply. “home.”

Brings the other lunch at work

i mean, bobby would KILL THEM if they tried to bring lunch to work. though lunch is probably the only thing eddie is allowed to make in the kitchen. (”I CAN HEAR YOU IN THOSE CUPBOARDS, EDMUNDO DIAZ.” “SHUT UP BUCK, IM MAKING A DAMN SANDWICH.” “OUT. OF THE KITCHEN.”) if one of them is working and the other isn’t, they bring home leftovers and share them at the kitchen table over a catch up, grinning like lovesick fools and trading finger touches and kisses. 

Has the better parental relationship

i think it’s safe to say they both suck. buck doesn’t talk about his parents much, and eddie soothes whatever nightmares come. buck knows the history with eddie’s parents; he knows they’re good people, but he hears tried to take christopher and makes a vow. eddie’ll never have to lose chris, not while buck’s still got breath in his body.

Tries to start role-playing in bed

buck’s got ideas okay? it’s not his fault eddie’s BORING. (I’m not boring, i just prefer not to have to dress up like a firefighter when i play one in real life, EVAN.) to be fair, eddie’s pretty willing to try whatever comes their way, but no, buck, he is not putting on that hat, stop it. 

Embarrassingly drunk dancer

eddie is a grade a. disaster. he fails at life. there’s immortalized video evidence of him dancing at the 118 new years eve party and he’s abysmal. buck likes to watch it from time to time just because eddie trying to roll his hips like that-

Still cries watching Titanic

it’s just that movie but they’re both affected, and while they don’t cry a lot, they do for this. buck can’t handle rose being left alone, and frankly, eddie just can’t deal with almost having lost his son and buck in a water-related incident. they don’t watch it a lot; they learn not to. 

Firmly believes in couples costumes

chris is Unhappy whenever eddie and buck try and get out of it, but they always cave. a well placed look and a plea in buck’s ear and he caves faster than - well, buck. chris only uses his power for good, like ice cream and couples’ costumes.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

buck’s never had someone (since abby anyway) to spend money on, and making eddie smile is forever in his list of top 100 things to do. eddie deserves everything. plus, buck’s buying for two and if he goes crazy on chris, he can’t not buy something to light up eddie’s face like that. 

Makes the other eat breakfast

eddie’s in a routine with chris and buck both, and buck’s a bottomless pit. if he’s not eating bobby’s food, he’s eating heated up whatever-it-is abuela’s cooked for eddie’s this week. his favourite are molotes, which abuela makes especially for him because she’s always saying para mi dulcito and ignoring eddie’s pout.  

Remembers anniversaries

buck takes note; he knows when chris’ birthday is, when eddie’s birthday is, and he knows when he and eddie got together, but the dates easily blend. eddie marks it done, knows it to the minute. sometimes he can’t believe he got so lucky and he’s so determined to keep a hold of buck, to not ruin it a second time, he’ll remember everything if it means buck will stay. 

Brings up having kids

THEY ALREADY HAVE A KID.

but buck wants more, wants a huge family. eddie’s not sure it’s fair, that they have the time until they’re not working so much, in such dangerous jobs, but he’s willing to negotiate. he wants to make buck happy, but he also likes the idea of sharing more life with buck, of giving chris a brother or sister to love.

Noona, Do You Have a Boyfriend? | Part 2

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Now that you’ve blown him, Jisung just won’t leave you alone.

Warnings: femdom, sub!jisung, brat!jisung, dom!reader, dancer!au, dancer!reader, spanking, slapping, ruined orgasm, jisung cries lol.

Part 1 You were having a good day. You had woken up feeling refreshed for a change. There was minimal traffic on the way to the JYP building. The boys had a rare day off, while other JYP artists had other schedules which meant that, for today, you had a whole practice room to yourself—something that was preciously rare and incredibly appreciated as you needed a way to release some of the tension that Han Jisung was causing you, and what better way to do it than to spend the whole day doing your favorite thing in the world? As the cherry on top of an already perfect day, you had a surprise run into Wonpil at the in-door cafeteria today which then turned into a pleasant lunch together. Yeah, today was a really good day. That is until Satan clawed his way up from hell to you. “Morning, Hyung. Morning, Noona.” Jisung greets you both, plopping down at the table were sitting at without an invitation from either of you.   Wonpil was a little shocked at the boy’s sudden entrance, but he smiles and greets him back nonetheless. “Oh, Jisung-ah, I didn’t see you there. How are you?” “I’m great.” Jisung responds with a tight grin, eyeing you. “What are you doing here, Han? Isn’t today your day off?” You try to keep the venom out of your voice in front of Wonpil. He didn’t need to get involved in this, but Jisung is seriously stepping out of line. He shrugs, “Can’t a guy surprise his girlfriend?” You’re confused for a second, wondering when the hell Jisung got a girlfriend, and more than a little annoyed and jealous. Who was she? Why didn’t he tell you? You thought he said he liked you, but then he just goes and gets a mystery girlfriend? That dick. It wasn’t until Wonpil awkwardly remarks that he didn’t know that you two were together, that you realize Jisung was talking about you. “What?! We’re not together!” You practically scream, making the few people in the cafeteria turn to stare at you. 

You can see Jisung’s jaw clenching and a light blush covers his face at the unwanted attention, but he keeps smiling. “Not yet.” “Not ever!” “I’m so confused right now.” Wonpil says, “Are you or are you not together?” “No!” “Yes!” Clearing his throat awkwardly, Wonpil stand up, “Okay, well, I think I should leave you guys to clear things out between you.” “But—but—you didn’t finish your… and he’s gone.” You deflate. You hear a scoff coming from next to you, and you turn to see Jisung with his arms crossed over his chest and a mean scowl on his face. “I can’t believe you, noona.” “You can’t believe me? I can’t believe you!” You shoot up, grabbing the rest of your food and dumping it in the trash. You feel sorry for wasting it but you’ve lost your appetite. You head towards the practice room, intending to pack your stuff and leave. Jisung follows right behind you, thankfully staying quiet until you’re back inside the practice room and away from any potential eavesdropping.  “Wonpil-hyung? Really?” He spits out when you reach the room, and you spin on your heel, marching towards him and poking your finger at his chest angrily. “That’s none of your business. You had no right, Han. No right! Why are you even here?” “Because I knew you’d be here. You could never resist the temptation of having a practice room all to yourself, especially if you thought that I’d be home today.”Jisung grins smugly, and cups your face in his hands. “See? I know you so well, noona. We’re perfect for each other.” You smack his hands away, “You know, most people have enough pride to back off when they know they’re being avoided, but not you.” “I refuse to be avoided.” He proclaims proudly, not caring one bit about your attempt to shame him. “I like you and you like me. Why are you being difficult?” You bristle at that. Not only is he blatantly disregarding your wishes, but he has the audacity to claim you’re the one at fault in this situation. He needed to be taken down a peg. “Difficult? I don’t want to be with you, Han. It’s as simple as that.” “And who do you want to be with? Wonpil-hyung? Don’t make me laugh.” “What’s wrong with Wonpil?” You ask through clenched teeth. You will not stand here and let this brat bad-mouth his sunbae. Someone like Han has no right to even talk about an angel like Wonpil. “Sorry, am I upsetting you, noona?” The shit-eating grin on his face completely contradicts his words. The brat is ecstatic that he’s found a way to get under your skin. “I guess I get why you have to defend him. I’d want a big, strong woman to protect me too if I was spineless like him.” “Watch your mouth, Han.” You warn, you hands balling into fists at your sides. “What? I’m only saying the truth. He’s exactly the type of weakling I said you’d go after.” You grab him by his shirt and pull him down to you, your angry face just centimeters away from his smug one. “This is your last warning.” “Ohh, scary. What are you gonna do, noona, spank me?” He sneers, “Do you even know how to when all the boys you’ve ever fucked never had the balls to stand up to you?” Your fists clench and unclench at your sides as you both stare each other down. It was clear he wasn’t taking you seriously and you wanted so bad to get that infernal squirrel grin off his face, but you still held back. He was right. None of the guys you’ve been with ever tried to defy you. They always did exactly what you told them to do. None of them would ever dream of openly defying you the way Jisung was right now, and it stirred something in you that you’ve been trying so hard to hold back. You knew you had a mean streak. You’d watch videos of subs getting punished and cum fantasizing about all the wicked ways you’d punish a sub of your own—a boy who had previously been faceless before Jisung came into the picture, and from then on he was all you could picture—Jisung gasping and crying as you edge him, Jisung squirming away from your punishing touch, Jisung begging you to let him cum, Jisung begging you to stop making him cum… you had thought up a million ways you would punish the boy in front of you. You wanted to wreck him so bad, it scared you. Which is why you knew you had to keep away from him. He was a danger to your sanity. Taking in a deep breath that does nothing to calm you down, you take a step back, deciding to just pack your things and go home before things get out of hand… “See? I knew you don’t have the guts.” Like a dog that had been taunted for far too long, you lunge at him, ignoring his startled yelp as you yank him by the hair and pull him towards the chair in the corner. When you drape his body over your legs, he starts to panic, “Wait, I didn’t mean for you to actually—oh, fuck!” A brutal slap to his ass cuts him off, sending his hands scrambling to find purchase on the floor as his body jolts forward in your lap from the force. “Noona—” You ignore him, hitting him again, and again, and again—his tone gradually turning from indignation to pleading as he fusses and protests, but never actually makes any attempt to get away from you. And you know why…. His cock is hard as a rock right now, and the way he’s grinding it against your thigh is not exactly subtle. “You horrible, horrible boy.” You hiss and tug on his sweatpants, pulling them down his ass in order to expose his skin directly to your strikes. With each slap, your hands sting more and more, but you know that as much as it hurt you, it hurt him so much more, if his labored breaths and squeaky cries are anything to go by. “Say you’re sorry.” “No.” He grits, wrapping a hand around your ankle and clenching it hard. You hit him more. “Apologize.” “If y-you think you’ll break me with a s-spanking then you’re de—delusional, noona. I’m not that easy.” His words were good and tough, if only he didn’t stutter and whimper his way through them. “Really? So is that not your dick hard and leaking against my leg right now?” You sneer, delivering an extra hard slap to his already bright red cheek. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are enjoying this.” It takes him a while to respond—too busy trying to keep a grip on himself—and when he does, it’s shaky and strained. “Well, I-I’m glad you kn-ow better.” “Tell me the truth, was all this just a ploy to get me to spank you?” You ask, your palm kneading his overheated skin, and even these touches make him whimper in pain. “You like being punished, baby?” Jisung jolts at that, his hips driving into you thighs and a drop of precum trails from his cock down your leg. “Ohh, you like being called a baby, baby?” You laugh, smacking his ass more. “Fuck you.” He curses, but his hips don’t stop rutting against you. “You wish.” You give his ass a few last spanks before pushing him off of you. He goes stumbling to the floor, his feet too unsteady to keep his body upright. “No!” He immediately tries to scramble back up onto your lap, but you press your foot against his chest and push him back down. Cocking your head to the side mockingly, you say with fake confusion, “But I thought you said you didn’t like it.” “I like it!” He pushes your foot to the side forcefully and crawls up between your legs, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling it down towards his very hard cock. “I like it, ok?” “I can see that.” You hum, pleased, and start stroking his dick, your grip loose and your touch light. “A little spanking was enough to break you after all. You say you’re not easy but you’re actually just a little slut, aren’t you?” He whimpers at your words, his eyes squeezing shut and his hips bucking into your hand, trying to get something more than the feather light touches you’re giving him. “You want more, baby?” You tease, and he nods earnestly. “I’ll give you everything you want. But first, I want my apology. I want to you to tell me exactly how sorry you are.” “I’m sorry, noona.” He gives in right away, ready to give you anything you want if only you’d keep going. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Smiling evilly, you rub your thumb in circles around his slit, the precum collected there making it very slippery. “What are you sorry for?” He groans in frustration, annoyed that you’re dragging this out. Unhappy with his response, you smack his sore ass in punishment, reprimanding him, “It sure doesn’t sound like you’re sorry.” “No, I am. I swear I am.” He rushes to say, “I’m sorry for being a brat.” Now that he’s playing along, you start stroking him again, one hand jerking his cock while the other fondles his balls. “Hmm, and what else?” “I—I’m… I don’t…” He frowns, eyes hazy and mouth hanging open, unable to concentrate when you’re dragging your hand over his cock so maddeningly slow. He fumbles around for a bit, trying to figure out the answer you’re looking for, but coming up empty so you decide to help him out.  “Are you sorry for disrespecting your hyung?” His slackened jaw slams shut and he glares at you, his eyes even clearing up a bit from the anger. You know he’s dying to talk back. You don’t expect anything less from him. Jisung loves being the center of people’s attention, especially yours, and now that you’re giving your attention to someone else, he can’t stand it. But right now, you hold his release in your hand and are fully prepared to take it away from him if he misbehaves, and he knew that. So he grits his teeth and tells you want you want to hear for now, though you suspect he’ll try to get back at you for it later. “Yes…I’m sorry.” “Good boy.” You coo, laughing as he shudders at your words. Oh, so he likes getting praised too? God, he was delicious. He was so sensitive to every little thing you said or did that you could think of a million ways you could play with him. “See? You wanna be a good boy. You’re just too proud to admit it.” Jisung bites down hard on his lip to stop the sharp retort that spring up automatically, staying quiet until he’s sure he won’t say something to get himself in trouble. “Yeah, I wanna be your good boy. Can you please give me more now?” “So impatient, baby. Do you want noona to make you cum?” You start moving your hand faster, building up a pace you know will get him there quickly. “Yes!” He moans, relieved that you’re not teasing him anymore. Little does he know what’s coming next for him, poor boy. “Yeah? Tell me when you’re about to cum.” You order, and too fucked out to know better, he agrees. Tightening your hand around him, you give him long, firm strokes until he’s putty in your hands, fully surrendering himself to you, then you pump his length shallowly and focus all your attention on just the head of his cock, your closed fist alternating between twisting around it and pumping it. “I’m…noona! I’m gonna—” He throws his head back, crying out. As soon as you feel his cock twitch, you pull your hand away, and despite the lack of stimulation, he starts cumming anyway. But you know the orgasm is far from pleasurable. Jisung wails in agony as he experiences what is probably the first ruined orgasm of his life, his hips moving on their own, desperately humping the air as cum starts dribbling out of his cock. His eyes are wild and confused, boring into your own and trying to seek out an explanation for this new feeling he is experiencing, wanting to be reassured that you can stop this torture, only to be met with a wicked smile as you delight in his pain. So he tries to save himself, his own hands moving towards his cock but you stop him before he can do anything, grabbing his hands and pin them against his sides. You hungrily watch as he squirms under the effect of the searing pleasure that offers no relief, only intensifying and aggregating in his belly. “N-no,” He sobs, and his body finally stops shaking. He’s still hard though, his cock impossibly red and swollen, and as soon as you let his hands go, he immediately tries again to touch himself again. But his dick was much too sensitive for that right now, and he only hurts himself trying. You watch in delight as he struggles to decide between touching himself and getting hurt from the overstimulation or not touching himself and getting hurt from the overwhelming need. You felt justified in your punishment. He deserves this for the little stunt he pulled back at the cafeteria and for being a pain in your ass for the entire duration you’ve been at JYP.  But when tear start spilling down his face, you begin to feel a little guilty. Myabe you were too hard on him. Sure, he’s an insolent little brat but he truly was suffering right now and he didn’t even understand what was happening. “Han, stop it.” You intervene, pushing him to the floor and pinning his hands down next to his head. You were trying to get the squirming boy to settle down, but he only struggles harder, taking your severe tone to mean that you’re going to hurt him even more. You needed to soften up a bit. You needed to do something you never thought you’d do for Han Jisung: actually be nice to him. Holding his face in your hands gently, you coo down at him, your voice soft but firm, “Baby, I need you to settle down. I want to help you but I can’t do it if you keep struggling. Will you be a good boy lie still for me?” The reaction is immediate; he freezes and stares up at you, surprised at how tender you’re being. Capitalizing on his moment’s shock, you start peppering sweet little kisses all over his face while continuing to urge him to calm down, and promising to make it better. You keep this up until the gush of salty tears finally turns into a light trickle then you pull back. You brush the wet bangs away from his forehead and caress his cheek gently, “I’ve got you, baby.” “Why did you do that, noona?” He sniffles, looking up at you with huge puppy eyes, like a kid who you just stole candy from. “You needed to be punished.” “No, I didn’t. You just like torturing me. You’re so cruel, noona.” Even with tears still glistening on his face, he finds a way to milk this. “And I’m still so hard.” He tries to buck up against you, but even the cotton fabric of your shorts is too rough on his sore dick, making him whines and demand for you to do something about it. “You said you’d fix this.” You swallow back the sharp retort that was on the tip of your tongue. You’ve punished him enough today, and despite his entitled behavior, he has suffered enough. And you knew just what you had to do to help him. When you get up to take off your shorts and panties, Jisung looks at you like you were handing him the key to the whole fucking candy shop, obviously misconstruing your actions.  “I’m not going to fuck you, Han.” You say, casually squashing his hopes. “Why?” He elongates the word in an annoying way, sitting up to grab you and pull you down to the floor with him. “Because you’re too sensitive right now.” “No, I’m not! I can take—” He cuts himself up with a yelp when you grab his dick. Arching an eyebrow at him pointedly, you pin his hands down and order him to keep them there. “But I—” He gets interrupted again, this time by your fingers pushing into his mouth that he loves to run so much. “Suck.” Finally, something he obeys. The boy is messy, swirling his tongue around your fingers as he sucks on them eagerly, getting not only them wet, but also your panties. This whole thing, just like last time, was making you drenched. Maybe you could sit on his face. Make him do some work for a change. It’ll even shut him up… “Hurry!” He demands, turning his head to the side to get your fingers out of his mouth. They slip down his chin, leaving a small trail of saliva on their way. Grabbing your hips that were hovering just above his dick, he pulls you flush against him, only whimpering a little from the residual pain as his cock gets pressed between his belly and your slick pussy. “What did I say?” You growl, slamming his hands back down. “You were taking too long.” “That’s not for you to decide.” You spit out, glaring at him. He glares right back, challenging you. This boy just didn’t know when to quit. Maybe he really was acting out on purpose, provoking you so you would hurt him. You decide to test that theory out, giving him a warning to see if he would disobey it or not, “If you touch me one more time without permission, you’re going to regret it.” He looks like he’s about to argue so you clamp a hand over his mouth— apparently this is becoming a running theme here—and you slowly, very slowly, start sliding your hips forwards and backwards over his cock, letting your juices coat it entirely before you start moving faster so you wouldn’t cause him any more pain. As his cock gets wet and slippery, the pleasure starts to overtake the pain, and you feel him bucking his hips up against you, his fading glare getting replaced by a needy expression. “Feeling good, brat?” You ask, taking your hand off his mouth so he could reply. “Yes. Please don’t hurt me again.” He begs, terrified that you might move away from him when he starts cumming again. “I won’t. I want you to cum for real this time, and I want you to do it all over yourself.” You smirk, pushing his shirt up and grinding faster against him. You are always surprised to see his abs. You just don’t expect a small guy like Jisung to have them, but he does, and you hope to see them covered in his own release soon. “And not that pathetic dribbling mess. I want thick, hot cum shooting out of your cock just like last time. I want you to look like the slut I know you are.” “I don’t want to.” Jisung replies insolently, taking you aback. You had thought you’d broken him already but apparently not. His hands—that you specifically told him to keep by his side— move up to your breasts to squeeze them. “I’d rather cum on your tits and send a picture of it to Wonpil-hyung.” You slap him. Jisung’s hands drop to his sides like dead weight, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and arousal in his eyes. “Oh my god, Jisung, I’m so—”  “Fuck, do that again.” “What? No!” He reaches for your breasts again. And that’s how you know he was doing it on purpose, because when you slap him once more, his hands fall to your hips, holding you still as his hips buck up against you sloppily, and cums. The sight in front of you is even more sinful than you could’ve ever imagined. You didn’t really get to savor the moment properly last time so you try to commit to memory every little detail of him right now, from the thick robes of cum covering his stomach to the way he was quivering under you, the prettiest fucked out expression covering his face, and when his tongue darts out to wet his lips, you’re reminded of the throbbing need between your legs. Climbing up his body, you smirk at the confused look on his face. “Wanna make noona feel good, baby?” He doesn’t even bother answering you, he just grabs you and pull you down towards his eager mouth. You’re not complaining though, not with the way he’s eating you out with such vigor, his tongue swiping up and down your slit hungrily and his lips kissing and sucking on your clit. You wouldn’t have been able to handle any teasing right now anyway. So despite his movements being a little too rough and sloppy, you appreciate the eagerness of it. Besides, the sheer imagery of him looking so fucked out beneath you, yet still so happy and willing to have you sit on his face so he can please is more than enough to make you lose it. As you feel yourself getting close, which you had to admit was worryingly fast despite Jisung’s unrefined technique, you order him to stick his tongue out so you can ride his face. And he happily obliges with, holding his tongue rigidly and watching you with rapt attention as you fuck yourself on it.  “Sungie, I’m gonna cum. Suck on my clit, baby.” You cry, tugging on his hair. He flicks his tongue over your clit a couple of times before he wraps his lips around it and sucks harshly, making your legs shake. You can no longer hold yourself up, and your weight falls on him, smothering him. But if he couldn’t breathe, it doesn’t seem to bother him. In fact, he’s moaning out wantonly against your pussy, the vibrations adding to the shocks of pleasure that are shaking up your body.  As the high leaves your body, you slump down to the floor next to him, and despite how oxyegn-starved he was, he still whines at the loss and drags his body over to you. You’re too tired to fend him off so you let him wrap his arms around you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and sticky against your skin. After lying there quietly for a while, trying to catch your breaths,  Jisung is the first to break the silence, which comes as no surprise to you. “You’re never getting rid of me after this.” He proclaims happily, and even though his face was hidden, you just knew he was grinning from ear to ear. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Quick poll: I’m thinking of adding a scene in part 4 where the OC doms Minho and Chan in front of Jisung and punishes them for talking smack about her to him. Would you guys like that or should I keep it exclusive to Jisung?  Also as always, feedback is greatly appreciated :)

Only You

I saw a picture of Freddie in that rhinestone leotard, and now here I am. I might be doing another version of this with Brian/Freddie too, but for now: 

Roger/Freddie. Roger’s got a particular love for the rhinestone leotard, and for Freddie. The combination? Has him just fucking melted, on the floor. And Freddie loves it. 

This one is mostly NSFW, though there’s bit before to get us there lol. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

He had no issue with Roger stealing glances in public. He wasn’t always subtle, but he  wasn’t overt either.

This, however, was overt.

“Shall I pick your jaw up for you?”

“Hm?” Roger’s eyes didn’t leave where they lingered over the leotard Freddie was in. Shiny under the lights, with rhinestones (just a bit sharp to the touch, but only if you ran your hand over them the wrong way.)

“Don’t know why you’re bothering,” John tutted. “Absolutely no blood going to his brain right now. None.”

“Fuck you, Brian,” Roger mumbled.

Brian threw his arms up, half-changed into his street clothes. “I didn’t say it; Deaky did!”

“Yeah, Deaky’s great,” Roger replied absent-mindedly.

“Get dressed and you can have your fun with me later,” Freddie instructed. “Where are our clothes?”

John and Brian looked to each other, then away.

“What?” Freddie laughed. “If they got moved or something, that’s fine. Just tell us where they are.”

“Er,” John sighed. “Thought the road crew would have told you two already.”

“Told us...” Freddie prompted.

“They’re probably too scared to say,” Brian muttered. “The green room got broken into. They chased the kids out before they got to my and John’s things, but yours and Rog’s...”

“Ah,” Freddie said. “And how am I to walk into a hotel looking like this?”

“I have my trench coat with,” Brian replied. “In case it rained. And Roger can just toss a sweater of John’s on or something.”

“I have an extra coat,” John said, tossing it over to Roger, who caught it without looking, but didn’t move to put it on.

“He’s enamored with that anyway,” Brian whispered to Freddie as he brought him the coat. “I think you being in this in the hotel might be a dream for Rog.”

Freddie looked over to Roger, who was giving him the dreamiest look, entirely in his own thoughts, apparently.

“You might be right,” he said, and tossed the trench coat on.

It snapped Roger out of his reverie, and he seemed to realize just how out of it he’d been, blushing brightly.

“Welcome back,” Freddie joked. “Does this do it that much for you? You’ve never said.”

“Can we discuss it at the hotel?” Roger mumbled as he shuffled on John’s spare coat.

“Discuss,” John giggled. “Make sure you keep that ‘discussion’ quiet. Don’t need any noise complaints from the neighbors.”

“I’ll keep him quiet,” Freddie smiled, and made sure to catch Roger’s eye as he spoke.

He had an idea.

---

“You like looking at them, hm?” he asked Roger as they settled into their hotel room.

Roger was working off the tight stretchy trousers he’d worn, yanking them off his legs as he sat on one of the beds. “It’s a really nice outfit, is all.”

“Is that all?” Freddie teased, and waited until Roger had himself undressed to walk over and drop the trench coat in front of him. “Just nice? And it would get that reaction from you if anyone was in it, would it?”

“Well,” Roger’s face flushed. “Not exactly. I mean...you...”

“Tell me what you like about it,” Freddie said, and gestured down his body.

“Christ,” Roger laughed. “Can’t we just fuck?”

“If you want,” Freddie shrugged. “But wouldn’t you rather play a little bit first? Make it even better, once we get to that point?”

Roger smiled. “Well, when you put it like that...”

Roger reached for him, but Freddie waved him off. “Tell me first. What do you like about it?”

“It’s shiny,” Roger started awkwardly.

“It is! I like that about it too, but I doubt that’s all you like.”

“You...there’s no way to put this that I don’t sound like some caveman,” Roger sighed with a smile. “So forgive me that, I guess. But you...fill it out nicely.”

“Such a polite way to tell me you spent all night staring at my ass,” Freddie giggled. “Very sweet.”

“Not all night!” Roger protested. “Just most of it.”

“Show me how much you like it,” Freddie said, and backed away from the bed. “Safe word?”

“I still like the phrase we used last time,” Roger replied.

“The drums are on fire?”

“Yeah,” Roger grinned. “Ridiculous enough to stop things, plenty silly, but not so mood-killing that if we want, we can’t go on in some other way we’re both comfortable with.”

“Stick with that one then,” Freddie smiled, watching as Roger climbed off the bed and settled onto his knees in front of him, naked except for the thin pants he had on (women’s, meant not to show lines as much, a necessity whenever he wore anything as tight as what he’d had on tonight.) “Now, how are you going to show me how much you love me in this?”

“I have ideas,” Roger replied. “If I’m allowed to touch?”

Freddie mused on it for a moment. “Yes. But tongue only.”

Roger’s eyes lit up. “I can do that. I might need my hands to make sure I don’t fall over though.”

“I can allow that,” Freddie said.

He needed Roger’s hands as much as Roger did as he finally made his move.

Roger’s hands gently held his thighs, as he leaned in and licked his way up the rhinestones, careful to avoid scratching his tongue on them. Looking down to see it was utterly breathtaking.

“You good?” Roger asked as he looked up to Freddie.

Freddie managed a nod as he found his tongue again. “I am. Very good. But I’ll be better once I have this off.”

“Do I get that honor?” Roger smirked.

Truthfully, it was half a sexy thing, and half that he truly needed help out of the leotard. It was simply too tight to get out without assistance.

But Roger made it all the more fun. He stood, and helped Freddie peel the top of it down to his waist with hands that lingered at every touch of bare skin they got. His hips bumped against Freddie’s ass, and he could feel just how hard Roger already was.

His lips lingered at Freddie’s upper back and shoulders, and after a few hickeys, it dawned that Roger had gotten slightly distracted.

“Rog, love?”

Roger moaned through a kiss to one of his shoulders in reply.

“You remember I’m still half-dressed, yes?”

Roger paused and lifted his head from Freddie’s shoulder. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

“I know, and I love it,” Freddie said. “But I think it’ll be more fun once I’m out of it completely.”

“It will be,” Roger giggled and resumed his work, hands at Freddie’s waist, pulling the leotard down further.

He was back on his knees after that, reaching up to tug it down more, to Freddie’s hips. As soon as those spots were bare, he moved up enough to press kisses to each hip, and Freddie resisted the urge to melt and let his knees give out on him.

“Might hurry that up,” he said instead, and Roger gave him a devilish grin.

“I thought you were doing a bit of a dominate thing tonight? Why not make me?”

“I’m closer to begging,” Freddie admitted.

“Yeah?” Roger asked, letting his fingers trail down from Freddie’s stomach to his hips, stopping at the worst and best spot.

“You’re so cruel,” Freddie sighed happily, then gasped as Roger’s hands dipped lower, working the leotard off his hips and down his thighs.

“Lucky you’ve still got that on,” Roger motioned to the dancer’s belt. “Or I’d have lost an eye, wouldn’t I?”

Freddie laughed. “As if you don’t know how to move back.”

“I do, but I don’t want to, is the issue,” Roger said. “I want to keep as close as I can.”

He moved his feet then, so Roger could finally pull the leotard off completely, tossing it to the side.

“Go get on the bed, and we can get as close as you’d like,” Freddie said, stripping off the dancer’s belt as Roger yanked off his own pants and scrabbled over to the bed.

There was something about settling into Roger’s lap that never failed to make him happy. It wasn’t only the promise of sex that often came with it, but it was simply comforting. Knowing that Roger wanted him that close, that it made him happy to have Freddie in his lap. They were hundreds of miles away from home, but as he rested gently on Roger, it made no difference. This was as much home as anywhere else, being with Roger, like this.

Roger wasted no time, pulling him down close, kissing him breathless. He was all happy moans and sighs, even as they rolled over together so he could reach into the bedside drawer and-

“Fuck,” Roger muttered. “We’re out.”

“Of everything?” Freddie asked.

“Half a bottle of lube, and there are no condoms,” Roger sighed. “Well. We’re not going to let that ruin tonight. Still plenty we can do.”

There was indeed, with Roger’s hand smoothing lube over their cocks, so they could frot against each other.

It was such a simple thing, Freddie thought. But it was perfect. Even if they’d had condoms, he wouldn’t have minded sticking with this.

His cock hard against Roger’s, Roger’s hands wrapped around them both, and Roger’s head dropped down against his shoulder as he moaned.

“You should have kept that near us,” Freddie said. “The leotard.”

“Why?” Roger’s voice shuddered as he lifted his head, his hips still moving in time with Freddie’s.

“I’d like to have seen you cover it in come,” Freddie replied brightly.

He knew that would send Roger over the edge, and he let himself follow a moment later, hips bucking against Roger’s, lips crashing into his.

The mess was no mind for now, as he wrapped his arms around Roger and held him tight.

“I’ll get up in a moment,” Roger mumbled, eyes closed, those beautifully long lashes in focus.

“You will not,” Freddie said. “You’ll get up in maybe five minutes, because I can’t bear to let you go yet.”

Roger snuggled against him, kissing softly at his neck, and Freddie settled.

Five more minutes of heaven then. He couldn’t ask for much more, but so long as he had Roger in his life, he certainly would, as often as he could.

Time Distorts Around Her

...so this one’s the least sfw one I’ve done yet lol so...fair warning!! Its of Gen and Rosie, which hasn’t gotten to happen canonically just yet, but I’m optimistic!!

It had been hours, or weeks, or years since they began. Time was hard to keep track of sometimes in Zol Thelas, and Rosie had lost track of exactly when they’d started. She was pretty sure it was evening, but it could be late morning the next day for all her body’s clock could tell. Besides, she had other, more pressing things to mind than keeping track of time. 

She pushes her head back into her pillow in a strong, slow push, squishing her poofy curls of hair down into her sweat as she does. The slightest little curse floats from her lips as she catches Gen’s eye for the first time in an hour...or a week...or a year…

Her room is dark, only lit by one small candle sat upon her dresser, seemingly miles away from the fingers that play so delicately with her core, and the blue eyes that look back up at her from overtop her breast, seemingly generating more light of their own than the candle ever could. Gen’s smile pushes her teeth slightly against Rosie’s nipple before her lips and tongue resume their duties. 

Rosie begins shaking again, seeing the beautiful girl she’s only known for days (or weeks...or 

years…) stare up at her from the tops of her eyes. There’s just enough light in the room for Rosie to see a silhouette of the tall, bright woman’s naked body, splayed out across her legs to hold them down ever so gently as her elegant fingers dance and writhe within her captive audience. 

The sight and the feel and the...all of it is too much for her, and Rosie feels her vision failing her as she squeezes tight against the soft cloth around her wrists, trying desperately to pull them free to move and stretch in the feeling before she loses all control completely and…

That’s when Gen’s fingers cease their dance, pulling out quickly and stroking their way up and down the inside of Rosie’s thigh. Even in the dark, the contrast in their skin is striking and oh so pretty, and if she we’re in a different predicament, Miss Rosalind would without a doubt have felt herself admiring their bodies. Instead, she lets out an uncontrolled whine of dismay, and her hips buck desperately back towards her cruel partner, who just sits up and chuckles and gives her a smile. 

“Very good,” the blonde woman purrs, smiling an evil smile down to Rosie. “Still having fun?”

Her soft, beautiful Carlisian accent alone causes Rosie to shudder, but that particular tremor is lost in the waves of shakes the denial has caused her already. She barely manages to whimper out a “How many…”

Gen cocks an eyebrow and a smirk pokes through perfect lips that Rosie has admired since they met. “How many more?” 

She brings her hand up to the alchemist’s belly, softly laying her sticky sweet fingers just at the edge of where it tickles, intentionally so, no doubt. Rosie eeps, but nods. Gen’s smile widens as she looks to consider the question a moment, he hands idly and slowly tracing their way around Rosie’s helpless body. 

Finally, she leans in and puts her face right before the panting girl, their breaths mixing in the inch or so between their lips. Her smile stays deceptively sweet as she finally answers. “I think that’s entirely up to me, isn’t it?”

Rosie does not know how long they’ve known each other at this point: maybe days, or weeks, or years. But this one moment sends a bolt of lightning through her body, creating another small tremor in her muscles, and also...a spike into her heart in a way she was not expecting. “Please…” she begins to beg, melting completely in Gen’s blue-light stare 

“What are you?” Gen asks matter of factly, cupping one of Rosie’s breasts with a sensual threat. The girl’s brain stutters as she tries to fight through the lightning and remember what they had talked about all those days (or weeks, or years) ago. 

“I am a flower, beautiful and lovely to behold…” she recites, staring into Gen with a swelling heart. 

“And what am I?” Gen continues to ask as she leans down to give a kiss to the space below Rosie’s ear. 

“You are...the sun,” Rosie manages to gasp through the small kiss. “My nourishment, and the warmth in my life…”

She can feel Gen smile into her skin as she kisses her neck again. “Good girl…” 

The touches and the melting in her heart cause her to speak before she can stop herself. “I love you…” she mutters, softly and almost slurred, like her body is drunk on her arousal. But the instant the words leave her mouth, both of them realize what has happened. 

Gen sits back up to look down, still smiling, but serious. “Do you know what you just said, hun?”

Rosie begins to sober, just enough to feel slight embarrassment, and her cheeks blush even deeper red than they had previously been. “Um…” The temptation to panic and hide herself grows, but something in Gen’s eyes keeps her going, and she begins to giggle. “Yeah...I think I did…”

Gen’s surprise cedes to amusement, and then to affection of her own, and she begins giggling as well. “Well...I love you too…” And between their little giggles, Gen leans in and kisses her girlfriend sweetly and deeply on the lips, before sliding back around to her ear and giving the soft lobe a brief nibble. “How can I be expected to say no again?”

Rosie barely has a moment to catch her breath from the kiss before the dance on fingers inside her resumes, only faster, more deliberate, more relentless than before. Her breath catches and is crushed into a moan as she flexes into the dancers. She doesn’t know how long it’s been, seconds, or minutes, or years, but her sensitivity is so high, that it hardly feels like an instant before she’s gasping out pleas again. 

And this time, Gen does not stop. From her perfect lips, she utters the sweetest three letters Rosie has ever heard. 

“Yes.”

okay just think about this.. high school senior peter stripping on weekends to save money for college. just so happens that his teacher mr stark decided to go to the club on a saturday night and is pleasantly surprised to see his very own student up on stage. he then gets a dance from peter and empties his entire wallet. PLEASEEEE

This... got a bit out of hand lol. Woops? Not sorry though. A tad of angst added for good measure. I really hope you like the outcome!

warnings: stripper!Peter, teacher!Tony, underage stripping (I guess? Peter is 17, so), student/teacher, high school!AU

words: 5,2k

[read on AO3]

Peter knows he should probably work a retail job or do babysitting in order to earn money, after all he’s a highschool senior and what he does isn’t very appropriate for someone his age, but it just pays far too good to stop and it could be worse, right? He is just stripping, not selling his body. He sells a skill and it’s one that brings good money. Sure, he had to lie about being 18 to get the job, but Bucky, the owner of the club, was pretty chill about it and just told him to not cause any trouble. The guests at the club are mostly regulars, who don’t care about his age as long as Peter delivers a good show and the boy always does because he enjoys what he’s doing. It’s a good job, even if he has to keep it a secret and use a fake name.

He never really thought he would run into any problems, after all, no one he knows would ever come to a strip club - a naive belief, but that’s just how Peter is. All his teachers are married, all the other adults he knows don’t care about such things and it’s a gay strip club too, so really, what are the odds of running into anyone who would recognize him?

Well, as it turned out, they are pretty high. Three months into his job, Peter is getting ready as almost every evening, putting on the schoolgirl outfit that always seems to get him the most tips and the pretty pink panties to go with them - the guys love pink panties, one time Peter even found a $100 bill between the money thrown onto the stage! - and doesn’t think of anything bad. He’s joking around with Harley, who’s a few years older than him and is doing this for two years already, making a bet about who’s going to get the most money at the end of the night. Peter knows he will lose, but it’s always fun trying.

When the speaker announces “Baby” will enter the stage, Peter gets up and straightens his skirt, grinning at Harley and giving him a high five before walking out. It’s time to shine and for “Baby” to show off his moves. He picked the name because he still had the perfect baby face and the guys he dances for really seem to get off on that, but by now, even Peter started to like the name.

The spotlights are on him when he steps out onto the stage, heels clicking on the floor teasingly. He can already hear the whistles, definitely directed at the far too short skirt and the stockings that connect to his lace panties, smiling sweetly when he grabs the pole and steps out of the lights in order to see properly. And that’s when his heart nearly stops and he gribs the pole painfully tight.

It’s a busy night, Friday evening always is, and there’s many faces he sees almost every week. But right in front of the stage is one face he never thought he would see and that makes an icy shiver run down his spine.

Mr. Stark!

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What is his teacher doing here!? And why, out of all of them, it has to be Mr. Stark, whom Peter had had a huge crush on from the moment he set foot into his physics class for the first time?

Peter is close to panicking when the music suddenly starts playing and he swallows. Shit, he can’t let this throw him off, he can’t. If he messes up, Bucky will be furious and Peter just knows he’s watching - he always watches his “Baby” dance, just to make sure no one tries something with him. There’s only one thing he can do, even if he wants to die at the shock he sees on his teacher’s face, whostares up at him in his skimpy outfit as he’s clutching the pole and fully knowing Peter will stip. Dance.

After taking a deep breath, Peter pulls himself together and finally starts his routine. It’s one of his favorite songs, fast and he has done this a hundred times. So, he simply does it again.

What follows is anything as sinful as it could be and when Peter sheds his blouse during the first refrain, several guys start whistling and throwing money on stage. That’s when Peter actually tends to the pole, using it to twirl around and hooking his legs around it to do the same hands free, which is always what gets the guys watching totally wild. It took him weeks to perfection the landing in heels, but Peter does it flawlessly, smirking as he starts pushing his skirt down.

His eyes flicker over to Mr. Stark for a moment, not missing the completely stunned look on his face and the blown pupils as he stares at him. This, more than anything, makes him want to be feisty. He picks up the skirt he just stripped out of, smirking and throwing it exactly into his direction. It lands on his teacher’s chest and drops down to his lap and Peter can see the man gulp.

He finishes his routine as always by getting onto his knees, showing off his flexibility by arching his back and going into a split, one of his easiest exercises. When the last few seconds of the song are over there’s an explosion of applause and shouts, whistles and money being thrown his way. Peter grins as he crawls across the stage, something he usually does fast, but today takes his time to do to pick up every last bill. Mr. Stark didn’t throw anything, didn’t even move since the moment Peter walked out on stage and it flatters the boy’s ego much more than it probably should.

As soon as he collected his money, Peter slips off the stage, walking over to his teacher slowly. The man still just looks at him as if someone cut his brain off from the rest of his body and smiles sweetly. “I will need that back, Mr. Stark,” he purrs and grabs for the skirt on his teacher’s lap. He is about to pull his hand back when Mr. Stark finally moves, grabbing his wrist and stopping him.

Not good. Not good at all. Bucky’s policy is strict - absolutely no touching the dancers. Peter’s eyes widen and he looks up, expecting his boss to come out of the back room any second.

“M-Mr. Stark,” he says as quiet as he can, trying to not show his own surprise. “No touching.”

“We need to talk,” the man states simply and Peter almost wants to laugh.

“Well, I’m working. I’m off at midnight, then we can talk, sir.”

“No, now,” Mr. Stark insists and this time, Peter does laugh, easily pulling his hand away. He leans down, close enough so he could slip into his lap any second, but he doesn’t.

“You have to get a private dance for that, Mr. Stark,” the boy purrs, putting on his most innocent puppy eyes. “But be careful, I’m quite expensive.”

And with that, Peter stands back up straight and walks back to the wardrobe. Only when he’s backstage and the door is closed he realizes how fast his heart is beating and he allows himself to actually breathe. He stumbles over to his chair, still clutching the money tight in his hand and just slumps down as if someone knocked him out.

“What’s with you? Bad performance?” Harley asks, already getting ready for his own that’s going to follow soon.

Peter lets out a huff and slams the money onto the table in front of him. “No, but probably my last,” he sighs and looks up at the other, gulping. “I just stripped in front of my teacher...”

“Holy shit,” Harley hisses, his eyes widening. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Fuck, I wish I was,” Peter groans. “He wants to ‘talk’, whatever that means.”

“Well, he can’t do much, can he?”

“Dude, he can get me kicked out of school if he wants to!” Peter hisses back and shakes his head. “Fuck, what if he goes to Bucky? He will kick me out too!”

“Kid, relax,” Harley says and puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing it before grabbing his shoes. “Bucky knows you’re earning him a shitton of money, he won’t kick you out. And he knows how old you are.”

“If he does, I’ll have to crash with you because my aunt will kill me,” Peter huffs.

Harley is about to answer when “Quinn” is announced on stage and instead cusses.

“I gotta go, but it’ll be alright, okay?” he says and pats Peter’s back. “Just try to relax. Won’t be too bad.”

Peter nods and watches his friend leave, but he’s not so sure if it’s going to be alright or not. The way Mr. Stark had looked at him… how can this not end in a catastrophe? He’s still trying to collect himself when Bucky walks in a minute later, not looking amused. Peter swallows and looks up at him, with what he hopes is an innocent smile.

“What’s wrong, Buck?” he asks, but the man just squints his eyes at him.

“What happened? Did this guy harass you?” he asks and Peter realizes that he’s not mad at him, but at his teacher. He quickly shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine, really,” he assures him and stands up, grabbing the robe from the back of his chair to cover himself halfway - he still didn’t get dressed, so he’s just wearing his panties, stockings and heels. “He was just a bit flustered when I grabbed my skirt back, that’s all.”

“Oh, really?” Bucky asks and raises a brow at the boy. “Because he just asked for a dance, a private one.”

Peter gulps. “D-Did he?” he stammers.

“Yes and I don’t like it,” Bucky grunts. “What’s with this guy? Wouldn’t take no for an answer. What does he want from you?”

“A… A dance, I guess?” Peter asks, his hands sweating nervously when he ties the robe. “Did you accept?”

“Sure, he pays good money.” Bucky pauses for a moment, looking at Peter. “If he tries anything, you call me, understood? I don’t like him.”

“Of course, yes,” Peter agrees immediately, nodding and even managing a nervous smirk. “I’ll let you know, promised. I’m sure he won’t try anything, he probably just wants some private ass wiggling.”

“He better. Watch out, told him you’ll come in fifteen minutes. Room three.”

“T-Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky nods and leaves, but Peter is anything but pleased. Fuck, Mr. Stark really asked for a private dance? He really paid $300 just to be alone with him? That just can’t end well, it’s impossible. Bucky specifically set the price for a private dance from Peter this high to discourage people, given he doesn’t trust them with his youngest boy, but his teacher doesn’t seem to care about that obviously and that makes Peter even more nervous.

While he gets ready, Peter tries his hardest to not think about what might follow. Private dances always include a certain outfit - in Peter’s case black leather bunny suit, matching stockings and ears, because cute and sexy is his style - and as he puts it on, his thoughts keep going back to the way Mr. Stark had grabbed him and looked at him. Was it only shock he saw? Or something else too? Peter never really bothered wondering if his clients had ideas about him, but with his teacher he can’t stop it from happening.

Ten minutes are over when Harley comes back and Peter asks him to close the costume on his back because he can’t reach the zipper. When he puts on the ears, his friend stares at him.

“Don’t tell me he asked for a private dance?” Harley asks and Peter gives him an awkward smirk.

“Told you I’d get into trouble,” he says and laughs nervously. “Wanna bet I won’t even take anything off before he yells at me?”

“He better not, Bucky will kill him,” Harles scoffs and sits down in his chair. “He already looks pissed.”

“I know,” Peter sighs and inspects his costume in the mirror. “He was here earlier. He did look pissed.”

“Well, if you are in trouble, just shout for him,” Harley laughs. “I’m sure he will wait with his ear pressed against the door anyway.”

Let’s hope not, Peter thinks and gives his friend a smile.

“See you in a bit, wish me luck,” he says eventually, two minutes left on the clock before his private dance. Harley waves at him and Peter leaves, trying desperately to stay calm. As expected, Bucky waits in front of room three, nodding at the boy as he walks in and holds his breath.

Mr. Stark is already waiting, sitting in the big comfy chair in the middle of the room, looking directly at Peter as he walks in. The boy needs a moment to collect himself enough to actually speak.

“Do you… want any specific music?” he asks, nervousness far too audible in his voice. “Or something else?”

“Answers, for starters?” Mr. Stark says, cocking a brow. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Peter sighs, he feared this wouldn’t be just a dance.

“I’m working here, okay?” he finally says, shrugging. “What do you want me to say? Sorry, I didn’t expect you to come here?”

“That’s your excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse, it’s a fact,” Peter says, slightly annoyed this time. “Look, if you wanna yell, please, feel free to. But you’ll probably regret it because my boss is waiting outside and he will beat you up as soon as you take one wrong step.”

“So, not only stripping but threatening me now too?” Mr. Stark asks, leaning back in the chair. “I expected better of you, Parker.”

Peter actually looks at his teacher for a moment before letting out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, I could say the same about my married teacher.” This response seems to take the man off guard and he drops his almost arrogant attitude immediately.

“That’s not-”

“Don’t even try to judge me, sir,” Peter interrupts him, striding closer to the chair. “I’m just earning money here, that’s it. You don’t have to like it, but I do.”

“So, you’re whoring yourself out for money? That’s what a smart boy like you decided to do?”

“I’m dancing!” Peter all but hisses and grabs the armrests of the chair while leaning closer. “And I happen to be damn good at it too. What’s worse, Mr. Stark? A married man going to a strip club or me taking off my clothes to make some money? What would your wife say if she knew you come here? What would she say if she knew how old the boys are that dance here?”

At this, the man gulps and stares at Peter with wide eyes. The boy has such a hard time to stay still because even without his immense crush, this is one of the hottest sights he can imagine.

“You know what happens during private dances, don’t you, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, smirking sweetly as he runs a finger down his teacher’s chest. He just can’t help it.

“W-What?” the man asks, swallowing hard.

“You ever had a lapdance before, sir?” Peter asks with the sweetest voice, chuckling. “I hope you did because I’m really, really good at what I’m doing.”

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” Mr. Stark protests, sitting up a bit straighter to bring some distance between them. “I just… wanted to talk, that’s all.”

“Oh, but I have to, sir,” Peter says, putting on his best puppy eyes. “I can’t let you pay that much money just for talking! That’s not right, you know? And you wouldn’t want to get me into trouble with my boss, am I right?”

The teacher is silent, completely dumbfounded by the situation, and Peter counts that as a success. If he can keep going like this, Mr. Stark won’t tell a soul about it. And to be honest, he dreams about this for months already and getting the chance to actually be this close to the man he has such a huge crush on is worth all the consequences.

Peter pulls back and walks over to the speakers and the stereo, searching for a fitting song to do this to. He smirks when he finds one of his favorites on the playlist and presses the button. The music starts playing and Peter at once goes back into the right mindset for this job, turning and walking over to his teacher.

It’s not the first lapdance Peter gives someone, but it’s by far the most exciting one. Every time he straddles the man’s lap, every time he bends over him or touches him, it feels like he’s going to explode and he loves it so much. Halfway through the song, Peter goes into full body contact, sprawling himself over his teacher’s lap with his back against his chest and it’s the greatest delight when he feels the man’s hands move to his hips and slaps them away.

“No touching, Mr. Stark,” he reminds him with a smirk, grinding once more against the hardening bulge between his teacher’s legs before getting back up. The torment on the man’s face is all too clear and Peter savours every last bit of it, knowing that those eyes are roaming his body wherever they can and that the other loves and hates it endlessly.

Just before the song ends, Peter slips back into the man’s lap, slowly grinding against him and leaning down. “Is it really that bad, Mr. Stark?” he purrs close to his ear, using the most sinful voice he can muster. “I can feel that you like it, so why be mad about it?”

There’s another gulp before Peter is pushed back and suddenly his chin is in the surprisingly stong grip of Mr. Stark’s hand and the next thing the boy knows is that his teacher’s lips are pressed against his own. He actually moans at the touch, all the teasing and self confidence blown away for the moment.

This shouldn’t happen, this is definitely not allowed, but fuck, Peter can’t seem to bring himself to stop it. It’s like his body is melting against his teacher’s, his lips opening without his consent when Mr. Stark’s tongue licks over them and the next second he’s drowning in the other’s kiss, his tongue ravishing his mouth and making him feel so fucking weak and helpless. Now, it’s not only his teacher that’s getting hard and it’s as hot as it is ambarrassing.

When Peter is finally pushed back he’s gasping for air, eyes fluttering open and seeing the hungry, dark look in the other’s. He gulps audibly.

“You filthy little thing,” Mr. Stark growls, a hand once again grabbing Peter’s hip but this time, the boy doesn’t stop him. “How the fuck am I supposed to teach you, now that I’ve seen you like this?”

“A-As always?” Peter suggests shakily, but he knows he can’t anymore. Fuck, he won’t ever be able to look at his teacher again and not remember this moment himself!

“You’re really such a naughty boy, do you know that?” Mr. Stark growls, pulling Peter harder against himself and pressing their crotches together, ultimately making the boy moan out.

“S-Sir!” Peter gasps, grabbing Mr. Stark’s shoulders to somehow hold himself up. Fuck, when did the tables turn like this? What happened?

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Stark asks, raising a brow with a cheeky smirk on his face. “Are you done with your teasing already?”

“N-No touching,” Peter says weakly, but still touched his teacher himself by pressing his hands against his chest.

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like you mind me touching you,” the teacher says, letting his hand wander down to rest on Peter’s thigh. “Now, how about you tell me what you are doing here? A smart boy like you, is this really the best you can do?”

Peter gulps and suddenly lowers his hands, grabbing his teacher’s and forcing them off of him. “I’m working, I told you,” he says with a tense voice and, despite everything in him screaming to stay in place, pushes himself back on his feet. “You should leave now.”

Mr. Stark’s attitude disappears as fast as Peter’s did before and his face turns serious. “Why are you working here and not somewhere else?” he asks quietly, this time, without sounding accusing.

“Because it’s good money, okay?” Peter snaps and clenches his hands to fists. “Why do you care anyway? I just dance, flirt a bit and I get money. Where’s the problem? My aunt can’t work even more, if I don’t help her she’d kill herself trying, so keep your judging for someone else!”

“Kid…” Tony’s voice is almost sad and Peter hates it, hates it so much that he turns around and walks back over to the stereo, turning it off. He doesn’t care if Bucky has to give his teacher his money back, he just wants this to be over.

“Just leave, I don’t need your pity or mercy or whatever,” Peter says quietly, trying to swallow down his own fear. “Get me fired or expelled, I don’t care. Just leave.”

Mr. Stark doesn’t say anything else, luckily, and actually leaves after a few minutes. Peter can hold it together mostly and wipes his wet eyes when he turns around, only to find something laying in the chair. Money. Lots of money, from the way it looks. He hates himself even more than ever before.

- - - - -

As soon as class is over on Monday and the rest of the students left, Peter walks up to his teacher’s table and slams the money he left on Friday onto the table. It’s over $600 and it makes him sick just to think about it.

“I don’t need your charity,” he says angrily, glaring at the man. “I don’t want it.”

Mr. Stark had been avoiding eye contact with Peter for the whole duration of the class, but now he looks up and Peter doesn’t like the guilt he sees in his eyes.

“It’s not charity, I paid you. Keep it.”

“I don’t want it!” Peter says again, louder this time and close to shouting. “I know what you think and you can shove it up your ass, okay? You have no right to judge me, so don’t even try!”

“Did I ever say I’m judging you, Peter?” Mr. Stark asks, raising a brow and looking at the boy. The blunt question actually takes Peter by surprise and he makes a step back.

“N-No,” he says and shakes his head, trying to focus. “But I know you do and you can cut it!”

“If I were judging you, you’d be fired from your job because I called the cops on your boss and you’d be expelled from school too for your inappropriate behavior,” the teacher sighs and leans back in his chair, pushing it off the table. “You want to do this, fine. Do it. If that’s what you want to do, I have no obligation to stop you.”

Peter is so surprised by this, all he can do is blink and look at his teacher in utter confusion. How… how can he say that after the way Peter had acted? How can he say that after he saw him like this?

“But… why?” he finally manages to ask, not knowing what else to say.

“Peter,” Mr. Stark sighs and leans forward, looking at the boy. “Do you think I’m stupid? Or blind? Do you think I wouldn’t notice the way you look at me or why you did what you did when I met you there?”

With just how fast Peter’s cheeks turn red, one could believe his teacher’s words set him on fire. He stumbles back a bit more, bumping into his own table. “I-I’m not… I didn’t…”

“Look, I messed up by going there, you messed up by going a bit too far during that private… whatever.” Mr. Stark waves his hand and shakes his head. “Let’s call it even, alright? You’ll keep the money I left because you earned it and I won’t tell anyone what happened.”

Peter wants to cry. Why is Mr. Stark saying this? Why is he not mad? He should be mad, or not? After all, Peter acted absolutely awful and took it way too far. He can’t just drop it like that!

“W-Why don’t you… tell?” he asks, nearly choking on the words. “Why don’t you tell my aunt or… or the principle?”

Mr. Stark sighs again and suddenly stands, walking up to Peter and taking his hands. The boy looks up in utter confusion at this point. “Why would I want to make things more difficult for you or hurt you, Peter?” his teacher asks sincerely, giving the boy a sad look. “You’re a good boy, you’re smart and there’s no reason for me to make your life harder because of this. I thought you knew I liked you, why would I do that?”

“Y-You… you… like me?” Peter sniffs, his eyes filling with tears. He can’t possibly mean it like that, right? No, Mr. Stark would never mean it like that… he’s married and what happened the week before was just because Peter made it happen, it wasn’t --

“Of course I do, kid,” Mr. Stark says with a smile that says ‘you silly boy’ and squeezes Peter’s hands. “I thought you noticed that when I watched you dance… and later.”

Now, Peter’s eyes widen and he gulps audibly. This can’t be, Mr. Stark can’t --

Suddenly, his teacher leans down slightly, a smirk on his lips that Peter can’t tear his eyes off. “Do you think I blow out $900 for a lapdance and a frustrating boner regularly?”

Peter’s knees buckle beneath him and he has to hold onto Mr. Stark to not fall down, looking up at him with big, confused eyes. “I… I don’t understand, sir…” What does this mean?

“For such a smart boy, you are really dense sometimes,” Mr. Stark chuckles and cups Peter’s chin, lifting it up enough to kiss the boy hungrily. It feels completely different from the kiss before, but it has a very similar effect on Peter, ending with him clinging to his teacher’s shirt and pressing his body against his like one would expect from the needy horny teenager that he is.

When Mr. Stark finally pulls back, one of his hands is snaked around Peter’s hips and the boy has to fight to keep his eyes open.

“Sir…” he whispers, looking up with a completely messy look in his eyes.

“You can’t imagine how hard it was to teach today,” Mr. Stark growls, squeezing Peter’s hip. “Kept thinking of you moving like that or of your pretty ass against my cock. You really know what you’re doing, you’re worth a million bucks and so much more.”

Peter can’t suppress the gasp, his cheeks still flushing and his heart racing. This can’t be happening, he has to be dreaming.

“You should try this on stage,” Mr. Stark suddenly says, chuckling and brushing a thumb over Peter’s lips. “Combined with that gorgeous schoolgirl outfit you’ll make thousands a night if you act all shy and flustered too.”

There’s a moment in which Peter just stares at Mr. Stark, unable to think or process his words fully. Then, it feels like someone pulled a switch in his head and he pushes himself up on his toes, crashing his lips against the teacher’s harshly. It’s mind-blowing, especially when he’s kissed back and held tight too, leaving no doubt that he’s not the only one wanting this so badly.

“Fuck, Pete,” Mr. Stark growls when they part, attacking the boy’s lips again at once. “You’re too fucking perfect, kid. Such a pretty, naughty boy, spreading your legs on stage like a little whore and not even being ashamed of it.”

Peter lets out a moan he didn’t expect and grinds against his teacher’s thigh. “Filthy old man,” he growls and buries his face against the other’s neck, biting down hard. “Tell me you’re getting off on me being naughty. Tell me you’re getting hard when you think about your innocent student dancing and stripping for strangers like that.”

“Fuck, I do,” Mr. Stark growls and suddenly grabs Peter by the hips, lifting him up. The boy lets out a yelp and wraps his legs around his waist to not fall, which is exactly what he knows his teacher wanted. “You have no idea how much I wanted to rip that costume off you and push you against the wall to fuck you.”

Peter almost whines at this image, pulling back enough to kiss him again. “Please, fuck…” he gasps, his hard on now pressed tight against Mr. Stark’s firm stomach. “Please do it, I want you to fuck me so much…”

“Soon, baby,” Mr. Stark growls and leans down, biting into Peter’s shoulder, which makes the boy almost wail to the point his teacher has to cover his mouth to muffle the sounds. “Shh, you don’t want anyone to see us like this, do you? Be a good boy and stay quiet.”

Peter tries to say something, but can’t through the hand on his mouth. Luckily, Mr. Stark has mercy on him and pulls it away so he can speak. “Tomorrow, please,” he gasps, looking up with more need in his eyes than has ever been there. “I work again tomorrow, please come.”

“Oh, watching you dance is already enough to make me come,” Mr. Stark grins, but Peter shakes his head, gripping his shoulders tight.

“No, I… ask for another private dance, please,” he all but begs, rutting against the man’s body. “I’ll make my boss leave, I promise. I need you, sir, please…”

“Another $300 to get the chance to fuck you, sweet boy?” Mr. Stark asks, raising a brow and for a moment, Peter’s heart sinks and he almost knows he will tell him to forget it. But then the man’s lips are pressed against his own again and he lets out a shuddered moan. “Fuck, I’d pay ten times that just to have you.”

Peter feels like he’s going to explode, but he doesn’t care. Mr. Stark wants him, the man he is lusting for ever since he saw him the first time wants him, that’s all that matters.

“Gonna be such a good whore for you,” Peter promises, cupping his teacher’s face and kissing him desperately. “Fuck, please come, I need you to come…”

“I will, baby,” Mr. Stark promises, a hand groping the boy’s ask as he devours his mouth again. “Fuck, I’ll fuck you so good you will think about it for years.”

Peter moans against his teacher’s lips as he kisses him again, his cock jerking at the thought of it finally happening. He never wants to forget Mr. Stark fucking him, whether it’s going to be a one time thing or not, he doesn’t care. He’ll do anyhing for it to happen, anything.

First Time (Hoshi/ Kwon Soonyoung) (Smut)

A/N: Yayy~ my first smut (out of many hopefully). This took me five days to write and tbh it still kinda sucks ha. I hope to get better at this smut thing over time. I hope someone out there thinks it’s decent lol.

➵ Pairing: Hoshi/Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

➵ Genre: sMuT

➵ Words: 4,066

You and Soonyoung had been dating for two months and before that, had been best friends for five years. You knew each other extremely well and you slowly fell in love with each other over the years until you both couldn’t take it anymore and finally confessed.

Since then, the two of you were absolutely inseparable. Going on dates all the time, cuddling on the couch every night, kissing constantly (to the dismay of Soonyoung’s very annoyed, fellow members). Yet, there was one thing that you and Soonyoung hadn’t attempted yet. Sex.

Even though Soonyoung had known you for years and knew you like the back of his hand, he was weary to have sex with you. What if he messed something up? What if he was awkward? What if he hurt you? Too many things could go wrong, yet he wanted it bad. So bad.

You could tell Soonyoung was desperate as well. His fingers would linger on your thighs longer than usual or you would catch him staring at you with a gaze you didn’t quite recognize. That gaze was desire... yet you didn’t know it. You returned his feelings of want with every inch of your body but you were nervous as to how to bring the topic up to him.

Finally, one night when the two of you were alone at your apartment, cuddling on the couch, you noticed that Soonyoung was a bit more restless than he usually was. He had slowly become more and more anxious around you throughout the night and the sexual tension was so thick, you could have sliced it in the air. The way he was biting his lip as he gazed at you with want and how he had to have a hand on you somewhere, clutching you like you might disappear, at all times. His needy actions made your mind wander to thought of his body on top of yours, those sexy, masterful dancer hips sending you to oblivion, his eyebrows knitted together in intense, overwhelming pleasure as he-

“Soonyoung?” You cut off your thoughts and cleared your throat. His eyes shot up to meet yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately... about uh... about um...this.” You gestured to his hand which was gripping your thigh tightly. Soonyoung stared at you in confusion and then looked down at his hand on your leg. There was silence for several seconds as your heart raced and you struggled to come up with the words to say next. You finally decided to just be blunt.

“I’ve decided... that I want you too. I’m ready.” You said shakily. It take several moments... but eventually Soonyoung’s eyes widened as the realization hit him straight in the gut. And lower.

“Oh.” Was all he could reply with and you suddenly felt really embarrassed, looking down at your legs. “Oh.” He said again, and when you looked up at him, a pink tint had crept up onto his face and a small smirk was forming on his lips.

“Oh God, (Y/N) I- are you sure? Are you sure you’re ready?” He grabbed your shoulders softly and you nodded, letting out a quiet giggle at the realization at what was about to happen. Soonyoung laughed giddily and pulled you close to him so he could whisper in your ear.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment for forever. I want you so badly.” He said huskily, his hot breath hitting your ear. You shivered and grabbed Soonyoung’s shirt, aching for him to be closer to you.

“I want you too.” With that affirmation, Soonyoung grabbed your face firmly with both his hands, slamming his lips into yours. His kiss contained all of the passion and all of the lust that had been building up inside of him for the past few months. Now, it was all boiling over and you could feel it in his deep kisses that were leaving you breathless and aching for more. He bit on your bottom lip sensually and you let out a breathy moan, allowing Soonyoung to slip his tongue into your mouth and kiss you again feverishly. His hands explored your body as his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers tickling over your hips, arms, and legs, your heart racing at his shy, yet desperate touches.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I’ll be so good to you.” He promised  as he pulled away from your lips and you almost moaned at his delicate words.

“I know you will.” You whispered and Soonyoung grinned against your lips, pulling on one of your jean belt holes to try and bribe you to sit on his lap. You obliged, crawling over to straddle his legs. You were so wrapped up in the heat of the moment, kissing Soonyoung while you moved, that you immediately sat down roughly wherever on his lap—realizing too late what you had done.

Soonyoung gasped and threw his head back, his face contouring with pleasure. You face turned pale as you felt his half-hardened cock against your clothed core.

“Wow.“ Soonyoung breathed and started laughing. “Someone’s impatient.” Your paled face turned into a blushed one at his suggestive comment.

“I-I didn’t mean to-“ But Soonyoung interrupted you, connecting your lips and grabbing your ass with his hands to pull you harder against him. You both groaned at the feeling and Soonyoung let his lips detach from yours, ghosting them down to your neck and placing wet kisses against it. Your breath hitched and tingles erupted all of your skin and inside your body. Your hand flew to his hair, grabbing a handful as he began to suck lightly on the sensitive skin.

Soonyoung was becoming more and more turned on by the heavenly noises that escaped your swollen lips as he kissed and sucked on your neck lovingly, along with the fact that you were sitting on top of his growing bulge. He determinedly left bright red marks on your innocent skin, not able to resist the urge to mark you as his own. He suddenly bit down and you mewled, involuntarily grinding your hips into him and Soonyoung inhaled sharply, grabbing your ass tighter than before.

“Oh God, baby. Do that again.” He begged and you obeyed his request, sensually rolling your hips, causing him to moan with pleasure. “Yeah, just like that.”

You continued your grinding and Soonyoung’s body was internally screaming for more. He bucked his hips back into you in unison with your movements and the feeling become a thousand times more intense for the both of you. You suddenly became achingly aware of how wet you were in your panties.

“Soonyoung...” You whined and he halted his grinding against you and met your eyes with his. “Bedroom. Now. Please.”

Soonyoung felt his cock twitch at the tone of your voice. “God, that was hot.” He grinned and patted your butt, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to the bedroom. You did so and Soonyoung stood up, holding onto you tightly. He stumbled around, barely able to focus on walking as you attacked him with kisses all over his face, making him laugh.

Once he reached the bedroom, he laid you down softly on the bed and took a step back to admire you. His eyes were hooded as he bit his lip, eating you up with his eyes. You blushed at his intense gaze, unable to keep your eyes from wandering down to the straining hard-on in his jeans. Soonyoung noticed and chuckled lowly.

“What are you looking at, doll?” He asked knowingly and you blushed. He snickered at your nervousness and proceeded to climb on top of you in bed. He hovered over you for a second, taking in the new angle of you. He wanted to just stay there and stare at you for forever, but the painfully hard erection in his pants was yelling at him to continue moving forward. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss on your lips before ghosting his fingers over the hem of your shirt.

Your heart began to palpitate with anticipation and eagerness as Soonyoung lifted your shirt over your head. You blushed out of embarrassment, your breasts never being exposed to him before. Soonyoung was basically drooling as he admired the way your breasts filled your bra perfectly. He quickly leaned down, pressing gentle kisses to your soft mounds. You smiled at his touch and ran your fingers through his hair.

“You look beautiful like this, but I want to see more of you, baby.” Soonyoung slowly licked his lips and you nodded shyly. He asked you to arch your back, which you did and it took him several long moments for him to figure out the mechanics of your bra. As soon as he tossed it to the side, you immediately threw your hands to your breasts, covering them out of sudden embarrassment. Soonyoung clicked his tongue, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head so he can look at you.

“Don’t be nervous, (Y/N). It’s just me. I think you look absolutely stunning.” He smiled as he held your wrists firmly. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple suddenly. You immediately gasped and your eyes fluttered close in pleasure as he sucked lightly. He still held onto your wrists as he worked magic on your breasts, flicking your nipple playfully with his tongue before placing quick kisses all the way around it. You arched your back, your hands itching to get out of Soonyoung’s grasp so that you could rip his shirt off his body and feel his chest.

“Take your shirt off.” You whispered and Soonyoung smirked before obeying your request, letting go of your wrists. He sat back on his knees to remove his shirt and as soon as he did, your hands were on him, rubbing his toned chest with your palms and messaging his shoulders. Soonyoung groaned and leaned down to hover over you again, pressing needy kisses on your exposed collarbone.

“Your hands feel so good.” He whispered huskily and you felt your heat clench around nothing as your mind wandered to what words he might say or noises he might make if you just... dipped your hand lower... and lower...

Soonyoung let out a breathy moan as your hand made contact with his clothed erection. He bucking into your hand, desperate to create more friction. God, he was so sensitive. He had wanted this for so long and now it was really happening. He had instantly gotten hard the second he began kissing you and he had a trickling fear that his own desperateness to make love to you, would cause him not to be able to last very long when he was actually inside of you.

You palmed him through his jeans for a bit, allowing Soonyoung to kiss your lips passionately while you did so. His eyes snapped open when you popped open the button on his jeans, lowering his zipper.

“You’re very courageous for our first time. I expected you to make me be more in control.” He smiled down at you, panting softly from the effort of kissing you roughly.

You chuckled. “It’s just that I’m so turned on and... if I don’t have you right now, I may explode.”

Soonyoung smiled at that and took your words as a cue to turn up the heat. He slowly slid your sweatpants down your legs, throwing them God knows where. His eyes widened and you followed his gaze, a blush erupting onto your cheeks. You had forgotten you were wearing your hot pink underwear—that had polka dots and a cute little bow on it. You cursed yourself internally.

“Oh my God.” Soonyoung cooed, “Why do you have to be wearing something so adorable? I don’t want to take them off!” You wanted to smack his handsome, teasing little face but you decided against it. Before you could sass him back, Soonyoung pressed a finger to your clothed entrance, feeling the wetness on your panties and a soft mewl interrupted your thoughts.

Soonyoung’s mouth opened in pleasure and then he smiled proudly. “Oh Jagi, you’re soaking for me.”

You nodded vigorously, your toes curling as you focused on his fingers experimentally rubbing your folds. He pressed a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly, and you couldn’t hold back a desperate whimper. The friction of his fingers and the cotton of your panties rubbing on your clit drove you crazy.

“Please..” You begged him, and Soonyoung made quick eye contact with you. When you gave him a look of approval, he stepped back, pulling down his jeans, giving you a clear view of his hard erection in his briefs, a wet spot of pre-cum evident on them.

You bit your lip out of pride that you had turned him on enough to make him leak. And it was all because of you. He watched you devour him with your eyes before he swiftly pulled his briefs down, his erection springing free. You wanted to faint and you could have sworn some drool left your lips as you eyed his member for the first time. How was he this hot?

You began to shake with nervousness as you knew the main event was soon approaching. It was too late to back out now, but you didn’t want to anyway. Even though you were nervous out of your mind, your hormones were racing and you wanted Soonyoung inside of you as soon as possible.

He swelled with pride as you were basically drooling over his naked body. “Your turn.” He licked his lips and leaned over you. He kept eye contact with you as he slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, slowly slipping them down your legs. As soon as they were off, Soonyoung stepped back once again and you squeezed your legs shut before he could admire your fully naked form.

He chuckled. “Don’t be a tease. Open your legs for me, Jagi.” He basically ordered you and you swore you felt some arousal slip out at his tone. You couldn’t deny him, slowly spreading open your legs and Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he was finally able to take you in, fully bare. He swallowed hard at the breathtaking sight of you laying all spread out on the bed, eagerly waiting for his next move. Your face blushed a deep crimson at Soonyoung’s lustful gaze, but you didn’t dare move. He made intense eye contact with you again before quickly walking to the corner of the room, rummaging through his backpack hastily. He pulled out a foil packet and returned to you, ripping it open with his teeth.

“You seriously bring condoms with you?” You couldn’t help but laugh and Soonyoung smiled.

“No, but soon after we started dating I got a long talk from my hyungs and they gave me some. I guess they saw this day coming.” He chuckled and you rolled your eyes. Of course they gave Soonyoung a long talk. Sounds like something they’d do.

Soonyoung struggled to put the rubber on for a few moments before finally climbing back on top of you. Oh man. It’s about to happen. Your mind was in a frenzy and your heart was beating so hard you thought it would explode as he put a hand on either side of your head for leverage as he hovered over you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

Soonyoung would never admit it, but he was just as terrified as you were. Even with how much he was dying to have you, he was worried sick about the entire ordeal. He wanted to make sure that it was perfect for you, that he made you feel good.

When he pulled away from the kiss and saw the concerned look on your face he used one hand to push some stray hairs out of your face and smiled sheepishly down at you.

“It’s alright. I got you. I’m going to prepare you for me, okay?” You didn’t have any idea what he meant by that until he suddenly slid a thin finger along your bare folds and your grabbed his shoulders, squeezing them and moaning hoarsely.

Oh. That’s what he meant. He groaned at how wet you were before slipping his fingers down, teasing your entrance. You mewled and bucked your hips against Soonyoung’s finger and he took it as a cue, pressing his finger inside of you slowly. The moan that came out of your mouth made Soonyoung want to cum instantly.

“Oh shit, (Y/N). You’re so hot.” He watched your face contort with pleasure as he began to thrust his digit slowly in and out. He stayed like that for a few moments before deciding to take it up a notch and press a thumb to your swollen clit while he thrusted his finger inside of you. Your legs jerked and you dug your nails into Soonyoung’s back at the foreign feeling.

God, you were so responsive. Soonyoung only had one finger inside of you yet you were already a mess. He couldn’t imagine how you would react if he added another finger and then a third... and then his hard cock.

He couldn’t resist anymore and added another finger inside of you. You inhaled sharply and Soonyoung immediately pressed his thumb to your clit again, trying to distract you from the stretch.

“S-Soonyoung.” You said breathily, groaning at the feeling of two fingers inside of you.

“I know, baby.” Was all he replied with, rubbing your faster, mesmerized by the look on your face. You looked gorgeous. You were digging your nails into Soonyoung’s shoulders, your mouth open and head back as you moaned at the feeling of his fingers working you.

The pleasure was becoming unbearable and you wrapped your legs around Soonyoung’s waist, pulling him in as close as possible.

“More.” You moaned, “Please, I want more.” Soonyoung swallowed hard at your words and nodded, slowly adding in a third finger.

The stretch hurt this time around, but Soonyoung’s thumb rubbing circles around your clit quickly took away some of the pain. Before long, you were bucking your hips in time with Soonyoung’s thrusting digits, your fingers sliding into his hair and pulling it softly. He groaned at the sensation. When he saw how much of a moaning mess you were and he felt how his cock twitched with anticipation, he knew it was time. He pulled his fingers out of you and you immediately felt empty.

“Are you ready?” You could hear the nervousness in Soonyoung’s voice.

“Please.” You nodded. He gave himself a few pumps before aligning himself with you and then...

“Oh fuck.” Soonyoung groaned as he pushed his tip into you slowly. You held onto his shoulders tighter than ever as he slowly pushed in. His face was a sight to behold. His mouth was agape in pure pleasure as he slowly pushed in, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. He paused to look at you and see if you were alright.

“A little more?” He asked when he saw that you were okay, but it sounded more like he was begging you to let him go deeper. You nodded and Soonyoung closed his eyes again, pushing more of himself inside of you.

The stretch was something else, but the look of pure bliss on Soonyoung’s face was quite the distraction.

“More, Soonie.” You purred and he groaned, pushing in the rest. You sighed at the feeling of being completely filled up by him.

“It doesn’t hurt, but... please don’t move yet.” You requested softly and Soonyoung nodded vigorously.

“I won’t move an inch until you’re ready, baby.” He reassured you and lowered himself so he could connect your lips to his. His tongue immediately found yours and you grabbed his face, a hand on each cheek, kissing him back feverishly. You gasped into the kiss when Soonyoung slipped a finger to your clit once again, rubbing softly. You pulled away after a few moments, keeping Soonyoung’s forehead pressed against yours.

“Okay. You can move now.” You whispered against his swollen lips. Soonyoung sighed in relief and slowly pulled almost all the way out of you, before pushing back in gently. He hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of you squeezing him so tightly.

“Oh, you’re so tight.” He whined and you pressed kiss to his cheek in response.

“Keep going.” You encouraged him and he did so. He struggled to keep himself under control, trying to keep his thrusts gentle so he didn’t hurt you. But the way you were beginning to moan, squeezing your legs around him and whispering his name repeatedly right in his ear, made it difficult for him not to just fuck you senseless.

“Shit.” He swore and he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up just slightly. You felt the difference and whimpered in his ear, Soonyoung shivering at your hot breath on his face.

You began to feel a deep knot in your stomach and you looked up at Soonyoung, whose eyes were closed again as he tried furiously to keep himself composed. Looking up at him only made your orgasm skyrocket even closer. A pink tint had risen across his cheeks from the effort of thrusting into you, sweat dripping from his brow. You moaned at the sight. Your core involuntarily clenched around Soonyoung’s cock and a strangled gasp left his lips at the new feeling.

“O-oh my-“ Was all he could get out before you wailed loudly, your orgasm soon approaching.

“Soonyoung, please. Harder.” You drug your nails down his back and squeezed your eyes shut. Soonyoung was panting heavily.

“A-are you sure?” He huffed.

“Yes! Please. I’m so fucking close.” You mewled.

“Me too.” Soonyoung grunted before picking up his pace, thrusting fast enough where the noise of skin slapping against skin could be heard through the room. You brought a shaky hand down to your clit, rubbing it mercilessly to bring your orgasm faster. You let out a loud groan, the knot in your stomach tightening even more. Soonyoung’s thrusts began to become erratic and out of pace as his husky moans filled the air more frequently.

“I’m right there. Oh God baby, I’m right there. You feel so fucking good.” He gasped breathlessly and fisted the sheets underneath him. “Come for me. Please, (Y/N).”

Only a few more deep thrusts and you did as you were told, crying out desperately in overwhelming pleasure and grasping Soonyoung’s hair as you rode out your orgasm. Your core clenching around Soonyoung tightly, sent him into his own intense release not long after. A mixture of a loud groan and whimper escaped his lips as he buried his face in your neck, riding out his orgasm along with yours.

You both laid there, your bodies entwined with each other in a hot, sticky mess for several long moments. Soonyoung finally pulled away, his cheeks still vividly pink and his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

“You were-“ But you shut him up quickly by pulling him in for a kiss. He moaned softly into the kiss and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you before pulling away.

“You were amazing.” He finished, still panting slightly. You smiled at him.

“Did I hurt you at all? Or was I too rough? I tried to hold back as much as I could, but you’re so hot and I-“ You interrupted him once again by putting a finger to his lips.

“It was incredible. I loved every minute of it. And no, you didn’t hurt me.” You giggled softly and Soonyoung sighed in relief.

“Well... I’ve heard that couples take showers after sex so... wanna take a shower?” He laughed warmly.

You smiled and nuzzled up to Soonyoung. “Sure. In a few minutes, though. I want to stay in bed with you a little longer.”

Prompt! ... Private Happy Anniversary Established Relationship Lap Dance ect. (Sorry, I know this is basically just a request for straight up smut but Christmas is the time of giving... Lol)

Answering this one solely because I love how you asked it, Anon. Seriously. “Christmas is the time of giving.” lol. Obviously this one is rated mature. Just saying guys. Also, anniversary, birthday. Totally the same thing when I remember the prompt wrong while writing :D

“Hey, happy birthday, Emma.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Hope you’ve been having a great birthday!”

“So the big three – oh, huh?”

“You feeling old yet?”

By the end of her day, she is ready to punch any and every person who says happy birthday to her. It’s ridiculous. Her birthdays have never really mattered to her before, but she’s also never turned thirty. Logically, she knows it’s not a big deal. It doesn’t really mean anything. But thirty just sounds so much older than twenty-nine.

It doesn’t help that her day has just been awful, problem after problem arising at the office. There were issues with shipments, orders were missing packages, and she had to stay four extra hours to fix it all. Normally it would have been fine, but she’d had to call Killian and tell him she wouldn’t be home for dinner. Knowing him, and she did after two years of marriage, he likely had this whole big thing planned to try to make her feel better.

And she’d had to ruin it.

She trudges in their apartment door, slamming it behind her, only to find that all of the lights are turned off. If he planned a surprise party she’s going to kill him. Absolutely kill him. She flips the lights on and no one pops up from behind the furniture or yells out surprise.

Huh.

Okay, so she was really expecting a surprise party.

“Killian,” she calls, kicking her heels off and wandering through the archway into the living room. “Babe, where are you?”

He doesn’t answer, and she just kind of assumes he’s in the bathroom, so she settles down in the recliner, popping the footrest up and closing her eyes to try to block everything from this day out. Sure enough, she hears the bedroom door close down the hall and opens up one eye to see Killian emerge wearing his old white dress uniform.

“What the hell are you wearing, babe?”

He simply smirks, his lips stretching across his face and causing his eyes to crinkle. He continues to walk over to her until he’s right in front of her, leaning down and slanting his lips across hers. “Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers against her lips, rubbing his scruff against her cheek so that it burns. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Hmm, me too,” she agrees before running her hands up his chest, fingering with the buttons. “But I’d really like it if you explained your outfit choice to me.”

“Well,” he hums, backing up from her and kicking the footrest down so that she flies forward, “my wife loves a man in uniform and since I don’t wear this anymore, I figured I’d give her a show for her birthday.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He leans down to press a button on his phone, music coming through their speaker system, before he begins swiveling his hips, slow and sensual while his hands pop open the buttons on his shirt.

“Killian,” she laughs, her eyes going wide while he looks down at her, his tongue running across his bottom lip while his jaw ticks, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I mean, yeah. But I have a lot of questions.”

“Later,” he promises, grabbing her hands and pulling her up from her seat, guiding her over to the kitchen chair she didn’t notice by the television. He sits her down before straddling her lap, gyrating his hips over hers and rolling his hair-covered chest in her face.

All she wants to do is laugh, the ridiculousness of this situation making her light with giddy, but Killian is obviously going with sensual here. It’d be rude of her not to play along. Plus, her husband is really fucking hot, and she’d hate to interrupt where this is going to end up, heat already pooling in her lower belly.

“So do you have a stage name?” she whispers as his shirts falls completely off his body, falling to the floor and exposing the muscles in his arms. Her head falls back against the chair while another rush of heat goes through her body.

“The Captain.”

“Really?” she questions, running her hands through the hair of his chest and tracing his abs with her fingers. He’s hard beneath her touch, his muscles still defined despite retiring from the Navy last year. Yeah, this idea is beginning to grow on her now. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

“About twelve years.”

“Yeah?” She tugs on his pants, his bulge showing through the material. Her hand runs across it, feeling his length through his pants. He whimpers at her touch, and she gives him her own smirk. “I bet that was really hard.”

Killian’s eyebrows tick up, practically landing in his hairline. He brings his bottom lips between his teeth, and she can visibly see that he’s trying to keep from both groaning and laughing. Good.

He doesn’t respond, instead moving his body around hers. She’s got to ask later if he watched Magic Mike or something because the way he moves is cracking her up. He’s down to his boxer briefs, the snug black material hugging his ass and hips while he grinds down into her, her clothed breasts rubbing against his chest. She’s surprisingly turned on, the ridiculousness having faded away, and her fingers find their way to the waistband, pulling the material down until his cock snaps up against his stomach.

Glorious.

“You’re not supposed to touch the dancers.”

“I’ve never been one to follow the rules.”

She grabs his length then, tugging tightly while Killian hisses and throws his head back, his hips bucking up into her hand. She traces the veins with her fingers, twisting and turning while precum pools at the tip. Obviously his little dance was turning him on as much as it was turning it her on.

“Darling, you have to stop that.”

“Why?”

“Because this is supposed to be about you.”

She chuckles under her breath before releasing him, pushing him back as she stands. “Well, come on, Captain. Let’s make it about me.”

She unzips her dress as she walks back to the bedroom, leaving it on the hallway floor while Killian follows behind her. She’s popping the clasps on her bra when Killian reaches her and picks her up around her waist, growling into her neck, his breath hot against her skin, while she squeals.

“Babe,” she gasps when his lips begin to nibble on her earlobe, shivers shaking her body while she’s still suspended in mid-air, “put me down.”

“As you wish.”

He drops her onto the mattress, her body bouncing and her hair spreading out around her while he crawls over her. His length lands against her thigh, hard and warm and thick, and his lips capture hers in a fierce kiss. She feels like she’s on fire, every inch of her body heated and full of desire. The way Kilian’s tongue tangles with hers doesn’t hurt, the slick, wet slide driving her into madness while his hands thread into her hair and his hips thrust against hers. God, this is good, just dry humping like this, but she needs more.

She bites down on his bottom lip, and he emits something that’s between a growl and a groan. She wants to remember it forever, to add it to the log of the other sounds that she knows he makes. He’s so gorgeous, so wonderful and loving, and even while her mind is muddled with lust, she can’t stop thinking about how very much she loves him.

His hands snake down her body while his teeth bite into her collarbone. Hard. She gasps and he chuckles against her skin while her bra becomes undone with practiced ease.

“You’re going to leave a bruise.”

“I know. That was the point.”

His lips continue to move down her body, tracing her skin with his tongue until he gets to her newly exposed breasts. The moment his tongue makes contact with her nipple, she bucks her hips up into his and closes her eyes in the pure ecstasy of at all. He hums around her bud while his teeth begin to nibble, and her hands find their way into the soft strands of his hair, grabbing on tightly to keep his ministrations going.

“Ah fuck,” she gasps, the pleasure far outweighing the pain as his other hand pinches her neglected nipple. “That’s good.”

“I know.”

“Cocky.”

He rolls his hips against hers, his straining length pressing further into hers. “Exactly.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He looks up at her, the blue in his eyes shining in the darkness of the room. “Aye, but you love me.”“I do love you,” she gushes, gently pushing his hair back off his forehead. “I’d really love for you to be inside of me though.”“Oh,” he growls, trailing hot, wet kisses against her skin. “Is that your birthday wish?”“Most definitely.”

His eyebrows wiggle across his face, and his lips stick up into the most salacious of smiles before he begins moving down her body, pulling her underwear off of her with absolutely no flourish. His fingers find her folds almost immediately, and she gasps, her entire body flying.

“So wet already, darling,” Killian whispers, his fingers teasing her while his lips move across her hip bone. “Is this all for me?”

“I had an exotic dancer perform for me earlier so not really.”

Killian chuckles against her hip before thrusting a finger inside of her, curling it just so that her brain goes blank for a moment while her entire body shivers. He begins to pump inside of her, adding another finger while his thumb rubs at her clit, all of his motions driving her insane. It’s good, so damn good, and she’s almost there, the coil continuously tightening in her belly when Killian pulls out.

“Fuck,” she yells, opening her eyes and looking up to see Killian smirking above her. “What the hell was that for?”

“Darling, I’m going to come into the mattress if we keep going like this.”

“Oh,” she sighs, trying to regulate her breathing while her chest heaves. “I think it might have been worth it.”

She sees him roll his eyes before he lines himself up to her entrance, his tip teasing her while he pushes her legs back over her stomach and hooks her right knee over his shoulder. He slides in with one quick thrust, the angle fucking incredible and his fullness a familiar but always pleasurable feeling. God, it’s good, filling her up completely.

“So tight,” he groans, beginning to rock slowly inside of her, “always so tight and warm and wet, so perfect.”

His lips moving against her knee, soft and sweet while his thrusts are fast and hard, the mattress moving along with them. He continues to mumble things against her skin, telling her how wonderful she is, how beautiful, how much he loves her. The coil in her belly that had loosened begins to tighten again, his words and his actions driving her toward the edge, and when his thumb finds her bundle of nerves, she nearly loses it.

“Keep going,” she begs, reaching up and pulling him down and capturing his lips with his while her legs fall on either side of his hips. He slips out for a moment with the movement, but he quickly slams back inside of her, keeping up with his earlier movement while his thumb drives her mad and his lips capture all of her gasps and whimpers.

Finally the coil bursts, the tension reaching its peak until her body can’t take it anymore. She feels this one in her toes and her cheek, the power of it surprising her in the seconds that she feels numb in pleasure and the black spots begin in her eyes.

“I love you,” she gasps when she can breathe again. Just barely, though.

“I love you too,” he grunts, his pace increasing while he searches for his own release.

She tries to help him along, swiveling her hips and kissing along his neck in all of the places she knows drive him mad. He whimpers and groans, the deep rumbling noises some of her absolute favorites. Suddenly his thrusts slow while he begins to pulse inside of her, his lips parting and his release hitting hotly against her insides. She feels herself flutter, the aftershocks of her orgasm still hitting her, and that combined with Killian twitching inside of her lulls her into comfortable, sweaty bliss.

His body lands on top of hers, his weight comforting for a moment, until he pulls out of her with a hiss and flops onto his back. For a moment all she can think about is having to change the sheets while his release drips down onto her thighs and likely onto the sheets. But she’s sated and exhausted and her awful birthday feels a hell of a lot better than it did a moment ago.

Happy birthday to her indeed.

“Thanks for that, Captain.”

He chuckles, and when she looks over at him, he’s got his forearm stretched across his forehead, tattoos inked in his skin. God, he’s beautiful, and she still can’t believe how many of those tattoos are for her.

“I can’t believe I did that.”

“It was hot.”

“Aye, but it’s likely a good thing I’ve never had a career as an exotic dancer.”

“Probably,” she admits, turning on her side and crawling over to rest her body on top of his, her legs tangling with his, “but it worked for tonight. Thanks for making my birthday better, babe.”

He presses a kiss against her sweaty hairline. “Anything for you. How are you feeling about your day now?”

She hums, contemplating it for a moment while he looks down at her with the softest of smiles on his face. He needs a haircut, his hair curling around his ears, and she reaches up to push it back again before he grabs her wrist and kisses her palm.

“I’m thirty, flirty, and thriving, Captain.”

WIP Week 2019 [Day 2]

 I’m going to be talking about original novels during this week, so feel free to tune out if you’re not interested. ;) Rules over here.

An Underrated WIP

As this is an original WIP, I’m gonna take “underrated” to mean a WIP that has potential but that’s so old that I haven’t actually looked at it since about 2011. (This WIP week is the actual reason I’m opening this document for the first time in almost a decade. :’D)

Working title: Circus

Date started: 2011

Genre: Magical realism 

Summary: There’s not much of a story to this WIP. Basically, back in high school I was deep in a Jrock phase, and thus a Very Contemplative and overly descriptive writer lol. This WIP was inspired by the general aesthetics in the short film “Soundtrack” which features Sugizo, as well as cabaret-themed Jrock albums like Közi’s Catharsis or Buck-Tick’s Enter Clown.  (God, this takes me back.) So! The WIP is basically a collection of vignettes about a bunch of circus artists in a rag-tag traveling circus. I’m not sure where I was going with it but I do like the general aesthetic & atmosphere of the piece, so. It’s always sort of lingered in the back of my head as a project to eventually pick up somewhere down the line.

Current wordcount: 1,631

Excerpt:

He would sit atop a barrel, skinny calves swaying over the top, a rock of bread held loosely in one hand. His eyes would vacantly take in the bustle of movement around him; the girls clamping those cocoons of glitter and wood around their waspish waists, planting feathers into lines of cleavage and applying technicolour dust to the skin around their eyes. The musicians hurrying with their absurd bunches of lace wobbling beneath their chins, waistcoats clinging to their busts like a charred second skin only to flutter away elegantly around their hips and down their thighs, curly grey wigs precariously balanced on their heads and instruments held tightly in clammy hands. The fire-breathers and baton-twirlers scampering around the prop crates, half-practicing and half-whacking each other around the head with their long metallic sticks.

The girls liked to fawn over him a lot, seeing as he was the youngest and cutest of the men in the troupe, and even when he was in one of his silent spells they would rub his cheeks till his face was like a red apple and make faces at him through their extravagant make-up. There was one of the girls that he especially liked, though he told no one (it was obvious in the way he acted around her, anyway); she never took part in the acts of the feather-clad dancers, and she had a more pronounced attitude than the others. She was the one who tamed the horses and helped take care of the boss’s little animals- monkeys, goats, owls, and whatever those creatures who screeched in vibrating wicker cages were.

Eyra was her name, and her large almond-shaped eyes and strangely proportioned, spire-like body certainly attested to it. He found that there was some kind of bizarre, nightmarish elegance in the way her spine, legs and arms seemed endless, her body capable of all the strangest contortions, and yet she had the appearance of a safe, solid being that one could count on- though every aspect of her anatomy seemed to have been stretched out, she was nicely fleshed-out. There was nothing in the whole world that he would prefer to one of Eyra’s all-encompassing hugs, where he would snuggle his face into her doughy stomach and experience the peculiar feeling of her never-ending arms closing around him like the boughs of an ancient tree. Thick vines of ginger hair would touch his neck, his mouth, bringing to his senses a musky scent of woodlands and damp forest floors. And then as she’d pull away, he would strain his neck as he tilted his head back to see her face; those great globular eyes glowing like lamps in an abyss, so wide and yet so tender as she’d tuck away a few strands of his hair behind his ears, pampering him in her own ways.    

You can hardly hold a note longer than the time it takes for me to tie my shoelaces, she’d say. But only in jest.