#With the ‘second secret name that no-one knows’ that they all have

[caitlynsrighteye]

Our Secret

G!P Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Heir to the high social status name, Kiramman, should only be paired within the same class standard. Yet, she's fallen for (reader), a girl that is, let's say, not upper class.

Contains: Modern AU, fluff, smut with plot, secret relationship, basketball!G!P!Caitlyn wlw, fem!reader, cunnilingus, couch sex, car sex, almost getting caught, characters are 18+, in 4th year high school (old enough to fuck, but young enough for parents to still have control of their lives lol)

wc: 3.5k

Born into generational wealth with high status due to her parents' success in business and entrepreneurship. Caitlyn is expected to live up to the same fate, whether it's from her own success or married into another rich family.

That is what Caitlyn planned in order to please her parents.

Until her eyes landed upon you. Beautiful, nonchalant. The sway of your hips as you roam the halls of Piltover High. You were simply walking to your next class before the bell rang, but to Caitlyn, why did time seem too slow when her gaze averted to you?

You, on the other hand, did not bat an eye or spare a second glance. You paid no attention to snotty rich athletes. Especially one as popular as the navy-haired girl. Whom always seemed to have a new girl wrapped around her slim finger every week. She wasn't just the school's top basketball player she WAS a player, and you had no interest in being used.

She noticed you around more. During the passing period, the library, even sitting in the stands as you watch her team, play on the court.

Vi, your best friend. Practically grew up with each other along her sister and brothers. The redhead was also on that team you were cheering for. The game was going well with Piltover in the lead. Each shot Caitlyn took, she always looked your way to make sure you were watching (show-off) and surprisingly didn't miss a single one, like you were her goodluck charm (or maybe just being a try hard to impress you).

The team of Piltover Blue jerseys ran onto the other teams side, ready to score again. Vi passed up all opponent team players, dribbling the ball with skilled precision, ready to pass to Caitlyn. The tall athlete was ready for the pass, yet subconsciously glanced your way, and the ball being passed to her hit her straight in the head. The impact created an embarrassingly loud boing sound. While you watched too.

After the game, Caitlyn walked out of the lockerroom, icepack in hand was placed on her black swollen left eye. She saw you talking with your strong built friend. Before Caitlyn could walk away and sulk, Vi looked over her shoulder and called the girl over.

"Oye! Super star, come over here," said Vi. The blue-eyed player sighed and turned around slowly before walking in your direction. Her face was flushed. Not a clue if it was from the recent game or the embarrassment of you looking at her in her current state.

"We won, but at what cost?" The redhead laughed, patting Caitlyn on the shoulder. Caitlyn usually had this confident demeanor in her stance, but now her back was slightly slouched, and the hand that wasn't holding onto the icepack was cluthing onto one of her backpack straps.

"There was something in my eye, wasn't ready to- " she was interrupted by vi, "Yeah sure, Cupcake," Caitlyn scoffed at the nickname. Violet's phone dings as she gets a text message. "Oh, Powder's waiting for me in the car, gotta go, see ya later, pirate," she says, teasing Caitlyn. She nods in your direction as a fair well, leaving you and the tall player alone.

All was silent until you broke it. "Don't mind Vi, are you alright?" You chuckle in between your sentences. Her gaze leaves the floor where she is staring down at her untied laces. "Yeah, totally. T'is no big deal, didn't even hurt," she tried to play it off, even knowing that her eye throbbed against the coolness of the bag.

Looking back, you never actually talked to the girl, nor did you know that she had an accent. It was quite cute if you were being completely honest.

"So, uh, nice to meet you... cupcake?" She sighed before speaking. "You can just call me Caitlyn, please," you bit your lip, surpressing a laugh, ready to burst out.

"Alright, Caitlyn," the sound of her name rolling off your tongue sent butterflies to her stomach. "I'm Y/n-".

"We had bio together 2nd year," she blurted out, unaware of how she just happened to remember that in that moment. You stared at her with wide eyes as she let go of her bag strap to scratch behind her neck that didn't even itch, tugging on the small hairs that couldn't be pulled into a ponytail.

She stood there even more embarrassed. Where did all this awkwardness come from. It was usually so easy for her to talk to girls, but something about you made her knees buckle and stomach turn.

There was some small talk between the two of you before you realized it was getting late and you're still standing in the halls of the school. Caitlyn offered to walk you back to your car, and you obliged in appreciation.

-

For the next few weeks, the only messages Caitlyn waits and picks up for are yours. The both of you had grown fond of each other. Hanging out, at first, it was with Vi, but soon ended up with just the two of you alone. She would walk you to your classes, not bothering about the time she had left for passing period. Jogging towards your spot in the bleachers after games.

All the girls she was once in contact with were blocked on her phone. She only had eyes for you.

Months pass, and you finally give in to her flirtatious gestures. One study night at her place, you both laid on her queen sized bed. Your backpacks are sitting on the floor of her bed, binders and papers cover the end of her matress as you both were making out on her freshly cleaned sheets. Legs tangled with each other as you and her laid on your sides. Your arms around her neck as she has one hand behind your head, pulling you impossibly close, and her other roaming the curves of your side. You were both lost in each others grasp.

For so long, she dreamt of finally being able to touch you as she palmed herself late at night in her bed. And here you were, tongues exploring each others mouths, saliva strings connecting your lips to her plump ones.

So lost in each other that you almost missed the knock at her bedroom doors. The handle turned, and the door creaked open. You both pushed off each other. Your push was accidentally too aggressive as she fell off the side of her bed with a thud. The bed was angled enough from the door so that when Caitlyn's mom, Cassandra, entered the room, the blue-haired girl was out of sight.

"Hello, Y/n, do you happen to know where Caitlyn had gone off to?" Her poor mother, so polite. You are sat up on her comforter with homework placed in front of your lap. "She's in the restroom, Mrs. Kiramman," you say, hiding the fact that you're out of breath and your face is bright red like a tomato. "So, I see. When she comes back, please let her know to come to my office for a moment," The older woman closes the door behind her after you say, "Of course, maam".

After a long minute of waiting for her mother to leave down the hall, you crawl to the side of the bed and see Caitlyn on her back with her arm slung over her face, holding back a silent laugh. You both begin to laugh as you asked, "Are you okay?" You grab her arm to remove it from her beautifully sculpted features. Her deep blue eyes meet yours, and you're mesmerized. "I'm alright, thank you," she sits up, and before you can say another word, she pulls you from the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

-

Soon after, she takes you out and asks you to be her girlfriend, but with a boundary of keeping it a secret. The more people are aware of the newfound relationship, the more likely her parents would find out. It didn't bother you to the core, but it was different.

As if luck wasn't on your side, her parents almost always managed to catch you both barely while you work at each others bodies.

One evening, she invited you over for a movie night, and the next thing you know, you're pushed deep into the plush couch of her living room with your thighs squeezing around her head tightly, as she's kneeled on the floor with your fingers tangled into her luscious navy blue hair and your other hand gripping the cushions behind you. The Kiramman heir is talented with her tongue. Swiping up long stripes from your entrance to your aching clit. The sounds were lewd, wet and loud, of her ravaging your pussy that needed her mouth so badly. You've ever felt such ecstacy before meeting her. Feels as if the moment you two began being intimate with each other, she knew where to please you and knew what would feel good.

Your irises rolled back, and your toes clung to the fabric of her shirt. Your moans were like music to her ears, wishing she could have you like this always. Both her hands grabbed at your flesh. One giving special attention to the mounds of fat on your chest and the other thrusting two fingers into your pulsing heat, curling them at a certain angle that drove you over the edge.

The air felt hot and heavy. Caitlyn's dick was out free and soaked in your spit from your ealier oral attention, her tip rubbing against the cloth of the couch. She humped against it, creating friction she needed. All was well till you saw silhouettes of a man and woman outside the window curtains near the front door.

Through broken moans you panick, "Ah- Fuck... Cait," you tug her hair and she looks at you confused before turning to the door. She quickly, but carefully picks you up off the couch. As soon as your feet hit the cold floor, you felt like jelly. Bad timing for Caitlyn to take your ability to walk. She brought you over to a nearby closet filled with hanging jackets and shelves of shoes and shoved your clothes into your arms before giving you a quick peck to your lips.

She practically jumped into her sweatpants and tucked her spit-slicked cock into the waistband to hide her hardened length. Her parents' keys could be heard as it worked to open the large door. When the noble couple stepped inside, their daughter sat on the couch watching where you and her left off on the movie.

"Hello, Caitlyn," her mother greets. Her father was about to say the same before he sniffed the air and tugged to loosen the business tie around his neck. "Darling, what is that smell?" He says, looking around the room. Caitlyn, with a nonchalant look to her face while she lights a candle on the side table next to the couch. "Im not sure," Sweat threatened to slide down her temple. Her blue eyes darted to the closet door that you hid in. Mr. Kiramman walked in your direction to put his coat away. She never stood so fast in her life she thought she'd pass out. Walking over to her father, she guides him to a small table where she had put the mail. "Dad, I saw this envelope from earlier, looks important," she put the pile of mail in his hands. "Oh well, thank you, Caitlyn," he says before heading towards his office where his wife followed after him.

"Phew," she sighed, hurrying towards your hiding spot where you had your hand covering your mouth to shield your heavy breaths. She opened the sliding doors to your shocked state, worried that you had been caught. You were still naked, legs shaking with arousal dripping down your skin. She gently caresses your cheek, comforting a soft smile from your lips. You take her hand as she helps you out of the closet, bringing you to the closest bathroom where she had you sit on the counter and helped you back into your clothes. Unfortunately, you both blue balled that night.

-

There was one place where Mr and Mrs. Kiramman couldn't catch you and your super hot girlfriend, the backseat of her car in a dark empty parking lot being lit by the tall light polls. Being the offspring of two rich, important people, she drove a huge murdered out cadillac escalade. The windows were tinted, and the interior was expensive leather. The backseat was large enough and had room for you both to lay.

The sun had gone down a few hours ago. Caitlyn had taken you out to a nice dinner after her team had won a basketball championship while being mvp on the court. The gym was filled in cheers from the crowd, and her teammates shouted in victory. Vi ran up to Cait and lifted her off her feet to congratulate the star of the game. The restaurant was dimly lit by glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles placed on tables. The navy-haired woman was cleaned up, wearing a black pant suit with her hair down resting on her broad shoulders.

As you sat down, she wanted to be extra fancy by ordering wine, but she got ID'd for not being 21 by the waiter (buzz kill). She was romantic and knew how to bring your face to a bright red. Knew how to make you laugh and overall make you want to bend over for her. Dinner was good, yet unbearable with the ache between your legs. The two of you basically hurried out of there, almost forgetting to pay.

Now, here you are, both sat in the backseat, straddling her bare lap as you bounced on her hardened cock. Your bodies fully exposed to each other with goosebumps along your skin. Hands on her shoulders, as hers gripped your hips with bruising strength. Your lips were attached to her neck, sucking and biting the flesh, turning it purple. Her head was thrown back on the seat with her eyes closed tightly. You watched in awe how undone you've made her. Her face wincing from the squeezing pleasure you've given her. Causing you to gain the stamina to bounce harder on her.

Caitlyn was lost in the deep red sea of your pussy as you tightened around her shaft. Each bounce stroked her from tip to hilt repeatedly. Her cock was so deep inside, it kissed your cervix painfully, your clit making contact with her pelvis as you landed.

The windows were completely fogged over, with handprints scattering its area. Her car rocked with each movement. Both your moans overcame the music playing on the bluetooth. The claps of your skin colliding with hers rang in your ears.

"Ha- fuck," you moaned. Caitlyn was not paying attention. Her head was still thrown back as she just sat there enjoying as you rode her. You took one of your hands from her shoulders to tug at her ponytail, bringing her face towards yours. Her eyelids drooped, looking fucked out and exhausted. She crashes her lips onto yours, kissing you hard. The kiss was messy, and your tongues danced together. Saliva strings connecting you both together.

Your movements began to slow as you grew tired. As if energy was transferred over, her kiss became brutal. Tongue dominating yours to explore the inside of your mouth. Her body leaned into you to get closer. If getting closer was even possible at this point. She pulled away from the kiss to watch as your body moved.

Grinding down on her, her erection rubbed against your sweet spot deliciously. Her sapphire eyes stared onto your perfectly round boobs, taking one nipple into her mouth sucking it hard like a hungry babe. "Fuck baby, you're so good," she said, mouth full of your chest mounds. The grip on your hips started to get rough as she helped you move, getting your body to continue bouncing. The sounds of your moans against her ear and your wet cunt swollowing her long cock whole was obscene. Straight out of a porno.

She had never felt this good before. Never with any other girl she's fucked for her own enjoyment made her feel the way she feels in this moment. Never had one of those girls made her fall head over heels. She was in love with you and wanted only you.

Her mouth left your boob with a pop. With the remaining strength and endurance she had left in her, she lifted you. Without pulling out of your cunt to pushed you down onto the center console. Your body getting stuck between the driver and passenger seat. With a shocked expression on your face, you watched her smirk stupidly before her hips took off. Pounding into you with such speed and force behind each thrust till her thighs burned from the awkward position. Your body moved upwards with each stroke she gave you, and you winced in pain when your skin skid along the leather seats. Your fingernails dug into her shoulders, creating scratch marks ready to bleed.

Your moans grew louder, and her balls slapped against your ass. You felt evey thick vein of her cock rubbing your inner walls. The head breaking through you made you feel like you'd be split into two. "Ahh Cait! You're gonna m-make me fucking cum," you lifted your head to watch her dick disappear within you. Your eyes almost rolled back at the sight of her thrusting into you. Her forhead slick with sweat, bottom lip between her teeth, her boobs bouncing with each pound of her hips onto yours. She gasped, close to her nut bust she watched her dick print on your lower tummy. It turned her on so much more. Her palms pressed down onto where she could see her dick going in and out of you, tickling your g-spot from the outside. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your velvet walls clenched onto her girth. She moan in unison with you. "Shit so tight. Wanna cum in you," her jaw tensed as you were clamped down hard onto her.

"Fuck fuck Cait!" You screamed. Squeezing her member hard, her balls tightened. You squirted all over her. Your hot fluids coating her pelvis. White cum burst from her tip and into you. Her strokes were slower, riding out both your highs. Long and deep strokes. Your body shook from the intense orgasm. Her eyes were glued to you the whole time while she took control. She craved the faces you made while she fucked you into a mindless sack of flesh. Regaining consciousness from your high, your eyes locked to hers. She stood awkwardly over you, trying to catch her breath before pulling her sore cock out of you.

It's as if the whole world went silent, and you and her were at the center of it all. Your gaze lingered onto hers before following a bead of sweat down to her swollen glossy lips. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her in to taste the sweet padding of her lips. She sighed into it, feeling relaxed and loved within your grasp. Something she felt safe and vulnerable in.

The kiss broke, and she nuzzled her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sent of your perfume and sweat. She placed soft pecks to the hickeys on your neck. Kisses that lead up your jaw to your cheek, then reached your forhead. After one final peck to your hairline, she looked up to see the time on the dashboard screen.

She sighed, "It's 3am," she watched as your eyebrows rose and your forhead wrinkled. "Oh shit," you say. A smile widened across your face as you do your best not to giggle. Yet, failed once she began to laugh with you. It wasn't a hilarious laugh it was more comfortable and soft sounding. Like, 'Oh my gosh, we were so caught up in the moment we didn't realize how late it had gotten'.

"Mum and dad are going to kill me," she rested her forhead against yours. You chucked and said, "We'll come up with an excuse."

"I love you."

You stared into her eyes blankly. Surprised by the sudden confession. Her body lifted, just as shocked as you were before taking a deep breath to keep eye contact with you.

"I love you, Y/n," she said it more confidently. It's been months since you both began dating, and you've gotten to know each other for almost a year by now. Confessing love was bound to happen sooner or later.

Your expression relaxed, and a sly smile spread on your lips. "About time, cupcake," you teased. "Oh, you shut up," she laughed.

"I love you too, Caitlyn Kiramman"

_________________________________________

Note: IT IS SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE SMUT BC I JS WANNA WRITE BACKGROUND AND PLOT TO ITTTT AHHHH!

Also ps: i keep seeing hcs of Caitlyn loving to have reader ride in cowgirl position... and never see it in fics like i eat up that hc sm ugh, need to save a horse so bad🧎🏻‍♀️

Thanks for reading♡ lemme know what you think :)

[gyubakeries]

𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗰𝗲𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀 | h.js

a/n: so!! part 2 is here! thank you rie ( @okiedokrie ) and a ( @chugging-antiseptic-dye ) for supporting my insanity. this one is for u guys, my fav joshua stans 🫂

part 1

word count: 4k contents: NSFW content , joshua x afab!reader , college au , joshua records nsfw audios as a side hustle , friends to lovers , happy ending , nsfw warnings below the cut!

nsfw warnings: mdni! 18+ , protected sex , fingering (f. receiving) , multiple reader orgasms , come eating , oral sex (m. receiving) , breast play , lots of nicknames (darling, baby, beautiful, good girl)

joshua is a fairly simple guy. he’s kind and nice to everyone. he’s always down to help people if they need it. he’s got good grades, love from all his professors, and the reputation of being the ‘campus gentleman.’ he even volunteers at an animal shelter on some weekends. it’s all simple and great.

except for one secret he swears he will take to his grave. 

it’s the black and neon pink website he logs into every other week. it’s the microphone he records his moans in front of. it’s the thousands of people who pay him hundreds of dollars, on a weekly basis, just to hear him whispering dirty words to them.

it was a side job he picked up in the first year of college, when money was tight and his shifts at the local convenience store were barely able to cover his rent and student loans.

he was desperate and grasped at any chance he could get. when he stumbled across the website while trying to look for good porn, (don’t judge him, he has needs too) he made up his mind.

so, for a few weeks, he only had cup ramen for meals and used the leftover money to buy a good quality microphone. he set up his account on www. angelaudios.com, and nervously hit record for the first time.

he never looked back after that. 

joshua built a steady following of people who were just as desperate for pleasure as he was for money. he’d post audios twice a week, maybe even go live a few times if he wasn’t too busy. it worked out well for him, considering he could actually pay rent on time and afford to buy fresh ingredients to make his meals.

for each of his recordings, joshua usually needed some time and a vivid imagination to even get hard. but then, that changed when you came along.

you in your skirts and tank tops. you with your perfectly glossed lips. you and your cherry-scented perfume that joshua could only catch traces of whenever you sat next to him in your shared lectures.

after you, joshua didn’t need much motivation. he felt guilty about it every time, but he couldn’t help the natural reaction of his body whenever he thought about how he could see the swell of your breasts in the crop tops you wore, or how your perfectly manicured nails would look wrapped around him.

ShuaTalks gained a lot of traction, and he started earning more when he started posting four audios a week in the second year of college, and he had you to thank for it.

—

“so you’re telling me joshua hong records those asmr ‘POV: i’m your boyfriend and we have phone sex’ audios?” seungkwan raises an eyebrow at you, and you let your forehead slam against the table as you slump over in frustration.

“yeah, sort of,” you reply, your voice muffled because of the way your face is pressed up against the table.

“well, are we sure that it’s him? there’s tons of other guys named joshua, right?” seungkwan tries to reason.

“i listened to one of the audios last week, seungkwan,” you sigh, not even slightly embarrassed to admit it, because your friendship with seungkwan lacks any boundaries, which shouldn’t be healthy, but it works for the both of you. still, you don’t mention how his audios are what you’ve been listening to every night, for the past week. therefore, you can say with conviction that: “it’s him. i know.”

“you are a freak,” seungkwan scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. seconds later, his head is perking up and he looks at you with an expectant gaze.

“do you think i could get the link to the playlist too?”

“no! he’s my crush! go find your own audios!”

“knew it. freak.”

—

“were you busy last night? you didn’t answer my calls.”

you nearly let out a scream when you hear the voice that has been plaguing your thoughts for the past week. after managing to compose yourself, you turn to see joshua sitting down next to you, setting his bag down on the floor.

“sorry, i fell asleep early last night,” you smile awkwardly, trying your best to avoid eye contact with joshua.

“i saw you active at 2 a.m. though? and i’ve been trying to reach out for a week, but you never responded,” joshua refutes, and you mentally kick yourself for your stupid addiction to social media. “did i do something wrong? it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but i just want to know why, and apologize for any mistakes i might have made.”

“joshua, it’s not like that,” you shake your head. “it was just-”

whatever bullshit lie you were going to give him gets cut off by the professor walking into the lecture hall. all students fall silent immediately, and the professor begins his lecture unceremoniously.

“let’s talk after class, okay?” you whisper to joshua to make sure the professor won’t hear you.

and to your devastation, joshua leans in closer to whisper into your ear: “let’s get coffee after class, yeah?”

you can only gulp and nod slowly, your head moving like a broken robot. joshua gives you a small smile and pulls away, shifting his attention back to the professor.

you, on the other hand, try your best not to make it obvious just how affected you were simply by joshua whispering into your ear.

—

after class, there’s not much scope for you to escape without joshua noticing, so you resign to your fate and follow joshua to the coffee shop on campus. although it’s just a three-minute walk, every second feels like an hour in itself, especially because you awkwardly keep your mouth shut and joshua keeps glancing at you in a way that he thinks is subtle.

it’s not.

you’re put out of your misery when the familiar glass doors of the coffee shop open up automatically in front of you. after a deep inhale, you enter the building, and joshua leads the both of you to a table in the corner.

“do you want your usual?” joshua asks, and you nod wordlessly. it’s like there’s a countdown only you are aware of, telling you how much time you have left before joshua confronts you about your strange behaviour and what you’re going to tell him.

you don’t use your time very wisely.

you can’t help but look at joshua, who is at the counter, placing the order for your drinks. you can’t help but look at how his lips move as he speaks. you can’t help but look at how his bright eyes form crescents when he smiles at the employee. you can’t help but look at how his graceful hands carry the tray of drinks back to the table.

you pinch your thigh under the table as you panic. joshua is back at the table, and you have to give him an answer. an answer that you haven’t come up with yet.

“you look like i’m here to interrogate you for murder,” joshua laughs, attempting to cut through the tension. “relax, okay? in fact, if you don’t want to talk about it, you could just leave, it’s alright.”

you bite your lip nervously, wondering what you could say to him without giving away exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.

“the link you sent me was- it wasn’t the playlist, joshua,” you blurt out, forgetting all your plans of lying to him.

“so i sent you the wrong playlist,” joshua repeats. “and you’ve been avoiding me because of that?”

“no, you didn’t send me any playlist,” you groan, and joshua still looks confused, which prompts you to take your phone out and open up your texts with joshua. you scroll past all the unanswered texts and stop at the link he sent you.

“click on the link, see where it’s taking you,” you sigh, handing the phone over to him. joshua takes the phone from you and does what he’s told. within a few seconds, his eyes are going comically wide and his face flushes red instantly as he hurries to switch the phone off.

“fuck- y/n, you weren’t supposed to see that-” joshua sputters out. he’s on the brink of hyperventilating, and the other people in the coffee shop keep shooting dirty glares at him.

“joshua, calm down, it’s alright-”

“no! it’s not! you weren’t supposed to know- no one was supposed to know about it!” joshua cuts you off with more panicked rambling, which seems to attract more attention from other people.

“god, joshua, just shut up!” you hiss, leaning across the table to place your hand over his mouth. “this isn’t the place to talk about, this situation. let’s go back to my place, okay?”

at your words, joshua finally calms down enough for you to take him by the arm and lead him out of the coffee shop, both your drinks left untouched. you take him back to your apartment as quickly as possible, offering him a seat on your couch and some water once you’re inside.

there’s a few minutes of silence as joshua drinks the water, and you use the time to blame yourself for being an idiot and telling joshua the truth and throwing the both of you in an awkward situation. your train of thought is interrupted when joshua clears his throat to speak.

“i know you’re probably disgusted by me after- after seeing that,” he starts, his voice shaky. “i’m really sorry for sending you that, it was a complete accident, i swear. i wasn’t trying to be a creep or anything. you’re free to judge me all you want, i deserve it-”

“joshua, i’m not going to judge you,” you assure him, and he looks up to face you, his eyebrows furrowing with surprise. “what you do in your private life is none of my business. even i owe you an apology for acting all strange, but i promise it’s not because i’m disgusted by you.”

“you’re not?” he asks, not quite convinced.

“i’m not,” you confirm, and some of the tension in his shoulders melts away when you shoot him a small smile.

however, his next question has you freezing in your place.

“how did you know it was me, though?” joshua questions. “i mean, you wouldn’t have known if you didn’t listen to the audios. you didn’t, right?”

it’s your turn to blush a violent shade of red and avert your eyes from joshua’s gaze. “i’m- well, i mean, i was- i didn’t know who it was so i, i may have listened to one?”

the previous panic in joshua’s eyes transform into a knowing expression and smirk. “are you sure? just one?”

“no,” you mumble, hoping joshua didn’t pick up on it, but clearly, luck isn’t on your side today.

“so you listened to more than just one?” joshua tilts his head, his voice taking on that sweet lilt you’ve become used to hearing in your earphones. “did you like them?”

your brain, unhelpful as always, decides to bring back bits and pieces from the audios you’ve been listening to all week. joshua’s groans, whispers, and that sound he makes just when he’s about to cum, replay in your ears, and you press your thighs together as arousal spikes in your gut.

“use your words, darling. i can’t read minds,” joshua nudges you, and you finally break.

“i liked them, i liked them a lot,” you admit, eyes boring holes into the floor of your living room. there’s a few beats of silence before a finger is tipping your chin up, and suddenly, joshua is kneeling in front of you, his eyes locked on yours.

then he asks, “did you touch yourself while listening to them?” you nod, and joshua makes a sound of disapproval.

“baby, i told you to use your words, didn’t i?”

“i did, i touched myself,” you confess. “i even- i even made a few donations.”

“really? that’s so sweet of you, darling,” joshua smiles sweetly, yet the hunger in his eyes is anything but sweet. “now that we’re here, you deserve a little gift for being so good, don’t you? let me show you how grateful i am to you?”

“are you- are you serious?” your voice is unsure and hesitant.

“of course i am,” joshua assures. “you’ve been on my mind for a long time, y/n. so, what do you say?”

it doesn’t take you much time to decide what you want. the second you mumble out a soft yes, joshua is leaning in close to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

you’ve spent not only the last week, but the entirety of the time you’ve known joshua wondering how his lips would feel against yours. and it exceeds anything your imagination had come up with.

the way he kisses feels as syrupy as nectar, and it keeps you wanting more, which is why you dig your fingers into the fabric of his shirt to pull him in closer, letting out a gasp when his tongue licks across your lips and moves past them.

his hands, the ones you’ve dreamed of every night, grip at your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into your warm, exposed skin, where your shirt has ridden up. he then pulls away to latch his lips onto your neck, leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he has access to.

“fuck, josh, can we- can we take it to my bedroom?” you gasp when you feel his teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

“show me the way, beautiful.”

—

in the blink of an eye, you’re already laying down on your bed, your clothes stripped off, leaving you in your underwear. joshua is in a similar state of undress as he hovers over you, the boxers he’s wearing doing a poor job of hiding how aroused he is.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you as he litters your skin with kisses. he swirls his tongue over your nipple over the fabric of your bra, and the sensation makes you let out a sharp whine. “i’ve waited for this moment for so long, you have no idea.”

“me too, fuck, just take the damn thing off-” you grit your teeth because of how joshua keeps teasing you by mouthing at your breasts over your bra. he smirks at you, and with the flick of a wrist, the clasp of your bra is undone, and it’s pulled off your body.

smiling like a cat who has got the cream, joshua takes the liberty to mark your chest, leaving behind red traces of him so that you remember him for days to come. you arch your back, leaning into his touch and letting out whimpers as he tugs at your nipples with his teeth, leaving them red and puffy.

“joshua, i need you touch me, please,” you moan. it’s been a while since you got laid, which makes every touch feel extra sensitive, and joshua’s teasing is only making the unsettling feeling under your skin worse. 

“mm, since you’ve been such a good girl, i’ll give you what you want,” joshua mutters against your skin. you don’t have to beg again, because he’s pulling off your panties next to rub on your clit in gentle circles.

your hips buck up to gain some more friction, and joshua laughs to himself when he sees the desperate scrunch of your brows. he leans down to kiss you once again, reveling in the way you moan into his mouth when he finally slips two fingers inside you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he murmurs into your mouth. “you can’t take me if you’re this worked up, darling.”

“no! i can take you, i promise!” you whine as the scissoring movement of his fingers slow down. “i’m your good girl, i can take it all.”

“desperate for cock, aren’t you?” joshua chuckles, but the sound is mean, and it does a great job of turning you on even more. the feeling of him talking to you in the flesh the way he does in his audios is unreal, and you can’t believe you got this lucky. “i like that, baby. let me stretch you out a little more, hm? so i can fit it all in?”

you nod your head quickly, turning your face to the side to bury it in the pillow as joshua adds a third finger, his thrusts increasing in their pace. you’re trying your best to hold on till joshua finally fucks you, but his fingers are rubbing all the right spots, and before you know it, you’re screwing your eyes shut, clenching down on him and cumming with his name on your lips.

when you finally open your eyes, you feel another gush of wetness drip from your cunt as joshua licks his fingers clean of your orgasm.

“just as sweet as i expected,” he remarks casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“joshua, i need you to fuck me right now, or i will actually combust,” you pant, chest heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. 

“you’re being quite demanding now,” joshua raises an eyebrow at you. “but i’ll indulge you. where are the condoms?”

“first drawer, to the right,” you point at the nightstand next to your bed. joshua is quick to retrieve a condom. just as he’s about to tear open the foil packet, you stop him.

“can i do it?” you ask, and joshua’s eyes are filled with amusement.

“go ahead, baby,” he nods.

he’s kneeling on the bed, and you get on all fours in front of him. this time, there’s a smirk on your face as you lick at the bulge straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

“baby, don’t tease,” joshua says, his tone bordering on an order, so you comply and tug his boxers down. 

“darling, you’re drooling,” joshua’s voice snaps you out of the momentary daze you were in. you feel his hand hold your chin, his thumb gliding against the wetness gathered on your chin. “the sooner you get the condom on, the sooner you get the fucking you deserve.”

hearing his words, you gulp. joshua was, for a lack of better words, huge. bigger than anyone you’ve slept with, and quite frankly, it’s making you nervous. joshua seems to sense that, because he calls your name out again to catch your attention.

“hey, if you’re unsure about this, we could stop here,” joshua offers, his voice gentle now. “i don’t want to force you into anything.”

“no, it’s- i’m not unsure, i want this,” you shake your head. “it’s been a while, that’s all.”

“i’ll go slow with you, if that’s what you want,” joshua says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “i never want to hurt you.”

“i know you wouldn’t,” you look up at him to give him a small smile. his attention is on you as he smiles back, and you seize the opportunity to catch him off-guard.

“oh shit,” joshua lets out a loud groan as you wrap your lips around his tip and suck, hard. he tries his best not to thrust into your mouth, knowing that once he started, it wouldn’t take him much time to cum down your throat. 

you seem to have understood it too, because your mouth doesn’t relent. you keep suckling at the tip like it’s a lollipop, the sound obscene to even your own ears. 

and then, you hear it. the sound he makes in the back of his throat. the breathy whine he lets out just as he’s about to reach his peak. at that very moment, you pull away with a satisfied grin. you pay little attention to the frustrated sounds joshua makes as you roll the condom over his length, pressing a kiss to the head as you lay back against the pillows again, spreading your legs in anticipation.

joshua all but pounces on top of you, claiming your lips in a hungry kiss as he lines his cock up with your hole, slowly nudging it inside you. your breath hitches in your throat at the pleasurable pain of his cock stretching out your walls. joshua distracts you from the pain by kissing you through it, one hand holding your waist, and the other finding yours to intertwine your fingers together.

“you feel so good around me, baby,” joshua says, and you feel the words being spoken against the skin of your neck as joshua finally bottoms out in you.

“feel so full,” you gasp. “please move, please.”

joshua doesn’t need any more convincing. he slowly pulls out and snaps his hips forward in sharp movements. his thrusts are so deep you think you can feel him in your throat. “faster, baby, c’mon,” you beg, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders and your legs tightly wrapping around his waist.

“you want it faster? want me to fuck you till your cunt only remembers the shape of my cock?” joshua grunts, picking up his speed, making you moan even louder. he’s fucking you so good you can’t even string together a coherent sentence, only mindless babbling leaves your lips.

“‘m so close, baby. you’re close too, hm?” joshua rasps, now rubbing your clit in tandem with his thrusts. “i can feel you clenching down on me. gonna milk my cock like a good girl, yeah?”

“fuck, yes joshua, i’m gonna cum-” your moans are only getting louder, and they provoke joshua to go faster to see just how loud you can get for him.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” joshua says, and if those were the magic words, you’re cumming again. this time, joshua reaches his climax at the same time. his thrusts slow down to a deep grind of his hips as you both ride out your orgasms.

“what the fuck, i can’t feel my legs,” you wheeze, your limbs practically reduced to jelly with how satisfying your orgasm was.

“can’t say i’ve ever had a girl say that to me before,” joshua chuckles. he slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you on the bed.

“you do this with a lot of girls?” you ask, not daring to look at him.

“with a few, but i don’t have the same feelings for them as i do for you,” joshua replies without any hesitation, and it makes you turn your head to the side to look at him.

“you mean that?”

“i’ve had this hopeless crush on you for ages, y/n,” joshua confesses. “so yeah, i mean it. it’s the truth.”

“okay, good, because i really like you too,” your face breaks into a huge smile. “and i don’t want you to think that it’s only because of what just happened. i’ve liked you since the time you sat down next to me during our ‘history of music’ lecture and asked me to be your partner for the project.”

“that’s almost two years ago,” joshua’s mouth widens with surprise. “we’ve liked each other for that long?”

“god, we’re idiots,” you laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “come to think of it, if you hadn’t sent me the wrong link, how many years would we spend pining for each other?”

joshua’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as embarrassment creeps up on him. “don’t remind me of that. i’m going to be scared of sending someone the wrong link for the rest of my life now.”

“at least it had a good outcome for us,” you shrug jokingly, and joshua’s laugh sounds like music itself.

later on, long after the both of you have showered and cuddled up under your blanket, you’re struck with a ridiculous thought while admiring joshua’s features in the pale moonlight.

“so, now that i’m a special fan, do i get any added benefits from ShuaTalks?”

“darling, i just gave you a live demo of my audios. are you already that desperate for another round?”

“we’ve got to make up for lost time, don’t we?”

“maybe after my early morning class tomorrow.”

“sure, party pooper.”

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[luvybun]

Fun asks telling u to write things u say? Look no further…

Been very feral for super soft domestic smut. Morning sex on a weekend and the man just fucking WORSHIPS you and ur body. Im especially picturing dino, hoshi or mingyu.

Pretty please💓

Mwah💋

౨ৎ princess treatment - lee chan x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 genre: smut, fluff, established relationship ᡣ𐭩 cw: feminine pet names, oral (f receiving), riding, piv sex, no protection (don't do this), praise, (please lmk if i've missed anything) ᡣ𐭩 words: 1.2k ᡣ𐭩 notes: YOU REALLY DELIVERED WHEN YOU SAID FUN ASK

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. any names, images, or references to real individuals are purely fictional and do not portray or represent their real-life counterparts in any way.

꒰୨୧꒱ 18+ content, MDNI ꒰୨୧꒱

plump lips littering your clavicle and neck with kisses made you flutter your eyes open. you sighed, wrapping your arms around the neck of the man leaning above you. chan peaked his head up from your neck and smiled.

"good morning," he muttered, his voice laced with sleep.

"good morning," you replied with a playful smile. "is there a reason you're waking me up on our day off?"

he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips, it's chaste but with a hint of some other want. "i was going to wait... i just don't want to waste a second with you."

"my sleep is not a waste of-"

chan cut you off with another kiss. your hands traveled over his shoulders, feeling the way that his muscles of his back moved with him. his skin is warm from laying under the bedsheets all night.

"baby," you interrupted him. "i'm gross, and i have morning breath-"

"you're not gross." he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "and you don't have morning breath." another kiss. "you're beautiful."

the light from the windows were dulled from the blinds, leaving a warm glow over the room. chan looked angelic the way that he leaned over you. his chest and face were slightly flushed. you brushed your fingers over his chest, softly leading your digits up his neck and into his hair.

"love," you hummed. "i think i've blinded you just a little."

"you blind me every day." he grinned.

"no-" you giggled. "you know what i mean."

"i don't." he pressed more kisses on your jaw. "in fact... let me show you what i really mean."

you hummed in delight as he went under the covers, quickly lifting the duvet to look at him. chan pushed your legs apart slowly, kissing the inside of your thigh. he smiled at you, like the two of you had a secret that no one else would ever know of.

"you're a tease," you whispered.

"i like taking my time." he pressed a kiss right above the waistband of your panties. "help me take these off?"

you lifted your hips for him, and he carefully slid them down your legs. he took them out from under the covers and threw them somewhere on the floor. he peppered more kisses along your thighs before reaching your core. you giggled as he pressed a kiss above your clit.

"my pretty girl..." chan wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. "you have no idea how much i've missed being with you like this."

before you could lovingly reply that you've missed him too, chan laid his tongue flat against your pussy - not breaking eye contact. you let out a quiet whimper, your hands reaching to run through his already messy hair.

he ate you out like his life depended on it, your juices dripping down his chin. his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, definitely leaving marks in their wake. you were left on a cloud of bliss, only brought down by an earth shattering orgasm.

when chan came back up from under the covers, his hair was wild and his face flushed and wet. "good morning to you too..." you giggled and shuffled around to get on top of him.

chan groaned as your pussy brushed against his hard-on. feeling a lot less tired, you pulled the t-shirt you borrowed from him over your head and threw it to the side. he took a second to take in the view, smiling like a lovesick fool.

"what?" you asked.

"you're a goddess."

chan sat up up, trying to get closer to you. you put your hands on the skin of his shoulders - finding comfort in the way he radiates warmth. you feel his big hands on your waist, smiling at the way they start drumming to a mysterious melody. instinctively, you start caressing his neck - trying to find those areas where he's extra sensitive. one of your hands come up to cup his cheek, and he immediately leans into it.

"i'll do anything for you, you know that right?" he murmured and turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"i know," you hummed.

you leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, before you started grinding down on him. chan let out a soft moan against your lips. taking the hint, he shuffled around to take off his underwear and started lining his cock up with your entrance. you kept yourself stable with your hands on his shoulders, as you sank down on him. once he had bottomed out inside you, you started littering his lips with kisses - trying to find a moment to adjust to him.

"you look so pretty taking my cock like a good girl," chan whispered as he pressed a few kisses on your temple and cheek.

he adjusted himself to lay down, making you gasp. "baby-"

"take your time," he assured you. "move at your own pace."

you put your hands on his chest and slowly lifted yourself up - the delicious feeling of cock leaving you, just for you to drop back down and be full again. you started moving more feverishly, desperate to get another release. chan's hands stayed on your hips, keeping you somewhat in check.

"you're doing so good, baby- looking so beautiful."

you whimpered. your legs were still shaky from your last orgasm, and you were already growing tired. it wasn't exactly the smartest idea to try riding him first thing in the morning. chan noticed your sloppy movements, and held you still. he put his feet on the mattress and started lifting his hips to meet yours.

"oh my god-" you moaned, nails sinking into his chest.

"take it, yeah, just like that..." chan groaned as he continuously slammed inside you.

your limp body fell onto his chest, and he took the opportunity to flip you over on your back to continue fucking into you. the new position let him get even deeper inside you, as he lifted your knees up to your chest.

"want me to cum inside you, don't you baby?" he muttered through gritted teeth.

"yes! yes, please!"

"so perfect for me," he moaned. "my pretty angel, all fucked out on my cock."

you nodded deliriously, clenching around him at the thought of him cumming inside you. "want you, channie... please."

chan's thrusts grew sloppy, and soon he came inside you - pressing his hips as close to yours as he could. still coming down from his high, he started rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking and you came for the second time this morning.

"oh, thank you, baby," he whispered. "such a good girl, thank you... did such a good job for me."

chan carefully put your legs down on the mattress, and leaned over you - his cock still inside you, as he pressed an innocent kiss to your cheek.

"you doing okay, babe?" he asked in between kisses.

"mhm..." you sighed dreamily and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "thank you, channie."

"i told you." he leaned back up and caressed your cheek in his hand. "anything for you, princess."

[mer-acle]

oh gosh my brain is procrastinating which helps my creativity stats lol

Imagine when Metis got pregnant, Hera naturally spent a little more time with her, I mean they are sisters-in-law and also Hera is the goddess of family and she doesn't have kids of her own yet, so naturally she's drawn to it.

They sit in a garden together, chatting a little. Metis smiles. "She's moving," she says softly, then motions Hera to feel. Hera almost gingerly puts a hand on Metis' belly. She can feel the baby moving and it aches in her chest, a strangely beautiful pain she can't quite define. "How do you know it's a girl?" she asks. Metis smiles. "Zeus doesn't think much of a mother's instincts," she says. "But it's not only that. I can hear her think. She's so curious already. And she feels safe, that's what matters most." Hera's gaze wanders over the garden, wistful. "That's true," she says thoughtfully. "How will you name her?" For a moment, Metis hesitates, as if it's a secret only herself and the baby know. "Athena," she says then. "Mind of the gods." Hera smiles, genuinely this time. "That's a beautiful name," she says, then bows over to whisper to the baby. "I cannot wait to meet you, little Athena." They both chuckle. It's peaceful now, one of the last peaceful moments they will share with each other.

Okay yeah that got heartbreaking so quick LOL anyway this was supposed to be the setup

bc Zeus doesn't want to reveal what he's done to Metis. He acts like Athena is his own child, born from his mind. Metis and he broke it off, that's all there is to it. But Hera knows the second Athena says her name. The second she sees the child's grey eyes. She knows what he did. She doubts Metis' daughter feels safe now.

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Ooh, excellent question! Poor Hawks, he can't catch a break, can he?

Characters: Takami Keigo/Hawks

Contents: fake dating, angst

Takami Keigo/Hawks

This is absolutely the kind of stunt the Commission would try to pull. Hawks, like most high-ranking Pro Heroes will have a publicist and chances are high for that person either working for the Commission directly or the PR agency being a third-party contractor of the Commission. Once they have their hooks in you, they do not let you go. 

For whatever reason, they decide their top Pro needs to be seen to be dating another Pro Hero. Maybe the other Pro has tanking ratings or it’s part of some deeper game. Whatever it is, Hawks doesn’t have much choice but to go along with it.

Another factor is whether or not the Commission knows you’re in a relationship with Hawks. He might have no choice to tell them, but I feel that if there was an opportunity to keep you a secret from them, he would. He doesn’t want them to have control over your life as well as his. And I’m sure he’d want to have a piece of his life that’s just for him, not for the Commission’s goals or the public’s consumption. 

It causes him no small amount of angst, having to sit you down and explain to you what they’re going to make him do. He dreads having to tell you, having to see the look on your face when you hear that he’ll be posing as some other person’s boyfriend. It’s hard enough, having to share him with the Commission and his endless work and his ravenous fans. Now you have to watch him post couple pics on Instagram with someone else. Or go on cute little dates where the paparazzi just so happen to stumble across the two heroes enjoying totally not sponsored smoothies. 

It’s maddening, to say the least. Hawks hates every second of it. 

While he’s not rude or hostile to the person he’s fake-dating, he’s not his usual lively, flirtatious self, because he knows every minute he spends with them is affecting you. His very little free time is being eaten up by this media-pandering bullshit, and he hates it.

There are a few ways he can go about making things easier. 

One, he’ll never take fake-girlfriend anywhere that he takes you. Your favourite little haunts and hangouts will never be tarnished by a photoshoot that ends up splashed across the front of Hero Weekly. 

Two, he’s honest with the fake-girlfriend. She has to know this is just a business arrangement, a contractual obligation. He already has a partner, and he’ll only be doing the bare minimum to make it look real for the cameras.

Three, he’ll set a deadline on it with the Commission. He can swing it by saying that all this prancing around for the cameras is affecting his performance. How’s he supposed to fight villains if he has to spend all his time doing photoshoots with Ultragleam or Mochigirl, or whoever they want to set him up with this week. 

Four, he can try and introduce the fake-girlfriend to you, so there’s no weird feeling of sneaking around. So you can set your own boundaries on what you are and aren’t comfortable with.

Despite all this? It’s still gonna suck.

There’s no way it doesn’t hurt to see your boyfriend posting cutesy photos with another hero. Fans will be gushing on social media, coming up with ship names, posting edits with sparkly effects and slow-mo reverb love songs playing over the top, filled with comments like “OMG THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER!” 

The only way to make it bearable is to imagine he’s playing a character, like he’s the male lead in a romantic K-Drama, and fake-girlfriend is just his co-star. It’s true, in a way. Even if they’re attending events together and posting (staged) shots on the beach, holding hands, it’s all fake. 

When he comes home to you after a long day of patrolling, exhausted after an intense villain fight, and collapses facedown on the couch, head on your lap, wings askew, only to tiredly ask about your day and beg you to order chicken skewers? That’s real. 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you breathe, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering what you were referring to, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[hollyhomburg]

Prey Animals (6)

—  Pairing: Yoongi x reader, Reader x agust d, Bts x reader,

—  Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

—  Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

—  Words: 4.7k

—  Warnings: Suspense, Death, Murder, Poisoning, Angst, Organized crime, Brief body horror, References to violence

—  Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! — 

Apparently, they’d been found together in the house. Both of them dead side by side.

The Don had passed first and the beta second. Mumbling something, brain scrambled from an aneurism or worse. Their deaths too close together to not be suspicious. Not to be caused.

But then again, the Beta and the Don had always been close. Close enough to die on the same day.

It’s strange for many of them to think of a beta loving someone so much that they’d stay in one place for a year- let alone the 40 that the last Don’s partner had stayed. Being romantically involved with the Don isn’t a requirement of the beta (and thank God for that) their romance although fruitless and without children, had been a natural progression of spending countless hours together.

Yoongi can only hope that the next Don he’ll choose will not require as much attention from him. 

Yoongi knows exactly what it feels like to love someone enough that society’s expectations are only a backdrop. Yoongi knew the beta well, and that weekend- he mourns her just as much as he mourned his parents.

Many in the family think them dying so close to each other is a little bit too fortuitous to be entirely accidental or age. The shadow of an unseen threat hangs in the balance. Murdered or dead, what does it matter? The effect is the same.

There is no Don right now. There is only Yoongi. And the decision of who will inherit the criminal empire lies solely on his shoulders. 

The rules of secession are simple and laid out in terms that the families do not argue with; to be eligible a contender must have direct lineage from one of the founding families.

A head of house is preferred for the role but not required. No adopted members or outsiders. Older than 20 but younger than 55 because the fewer changes of power the better. If they kept merely picking the eldest, the Don would die and change once or twice every decade and that’s too often for the kind of stability required by the family.

No Omegas or Betas either. The Don can only be an Alpha. 

Yoongi will choose the successor by himself. There will be no changing and recanting once he’s made his choice. Although bribery and bargaining are still on the table. He’ll have 120 days from the funeral to make his choice and during that time a moratorium is placed on all major decisions in regard to marriage, deaths, engagement, and alliances. None of the families’ assassins will be called for hits and there will be no naming of any newborn pups in the time being.

And if by chance Yoongi dies before the next Don is chosen, it would come down to a vote between the 12 heads of house.

~-~

(You and Yoongi. 115 days before).

Yoongi doesn’t meet you at the funeral, although he’s sure you must have been there.

Months later he’ll think back to if he saw you and decide that he didn’t because you hadn’t wanted to be noticed. You’d have probably made yourself small for it- sunk into the shadows where you’d avoid detection and suspicion to watch the masses like a teeming anthill. Perhaps you’d turned your gaze skyward towards the end just as he had, to beg for a savior in the vaulted ceiling above.

He doesn’t meet you at the funeral- but at the next family dinner the following Saturday. The meal offers no salvation or satiation. Nothing that either of you are looking for.

Both of you meet hungry.

The family has given him his own personal driver to ferry Yoongi in between his hotel and the various family meetings in the week following the funeral. He’ll only be staying at the hotel for a few more nights until the beta’s residence has been cleared out for him.

During that week Yoongi meets with each of the heads of house personally and privately to re-learn the names of their eligible alphas. He leaves his own brother for last. To make him nervous- or to save the best. Geumjae can choose what narrative he wants.

All he can think about during the drive to the Don’s house is that it’s all terribly predictable that Geumjae wants this. That he wants the throne.

Thinking back on it- what didn’t he want growing up? More candy and the more desert. More toys and more presents on his birthday. More and more and more. The fastest car and the most lethal gun. What wasn’t he entitled too as his father’s heir and the default favorite?

Just like back then- Geumjae is the default here. Choosing him wouldn’t alarm anyone- he might not even be the worst choice in the eyes of the heads of house. Few have shown themselves to be as ruthless and even fewer have taken the family to greater heights than Geumjae has taken the Min family too.

Geumjae isn’t just a good pick, he’s the expected one.

Yoongi doesn’t like the way that the expectations feel, how they worm their way under his skin. Geumjae is an eligible alpha, it’s only natural that he’d want the power and money awarded to the Don’s position.  

His threats from the other night bounce around the inside of Yoongi’s head. He can’t forget them; what Geumjae insinuated.

The idea of his pack getting caught up in all of this makes his blood run cold. Survival is a particular drug, and Yoongi feels it block out all of his love for them- the memory of them, all his little wants and concerns boiling down to abject horror at what Geumjae insinuated the other night. The pack’s survival is the one thing Yoongi cares about, it falls even above his own.

If Yoongi has to make the choice, it will be easy.

The next Don won’t be chosen for the next 120 days as is tradition. What he should do is live out the 120 days, name Geumjae Don and then high tail it out of here. Geumjae might be so thankful that he lets Yoongi go without comment. Maybe he could barter the position with the condition that Yoongi was allowed to go and leave this all behind. A life for an empire. It seems like a fair trade.

Maybe then he could get back to the pack before Christmas.

He checks his phone again for the dozenth time this week. The packs texts have grown more and more worried. Yoongi spends so much of his time looking down at his phone, finger hovering over the call button. Unable to pull the trigger. It’s too much of a risk, even texting them could turn curious eyes in their direction.

Jimin (5:34pm): Do you need help? Just say yes and I’ll find you. Hyung please, just let us know if you’re alright.

He has to act carefully- deliberate. Maybe he’ll call Namjoon and tell him he’d be gone for a few more weeks than he thought, maybe he shouldn’t risk even that. Even that might put them at risk.

Yoongi has 120 days to make sure that the pack don’t get caught up in this, 120 days before he can text them, before he can go home and hope that they’ll forgive him. He doesn’t know what story he’ll tell them or how he’ll justify it. I was hurt, I was in a coma, I couldn’t text you, I was stuck halfway in a ditch. I just lost track of time.

But the real justification, the truth, is something he’ll need to take to his grave.

Until the Don is decided, Yoongi’s the one who will govern the affairs of the family.

There will be no death and no punishments, A time for everyone to gather and mourn and talk about what needs to be done, each voice heard in equal measure. It’s his job as the only beta left to make sure the family doesn’t fall prey to infighting while the next leader is being chosen.

Although the past Don’s house will sit vacant until the next is chosen, they still have family dinners there.

The general rule is that one member of each house should be in attendance every week, there could be more- but there are rarely more than 40 people at the table. Not many of them are in possession of large enough houses to fit their group though Yoongi’s sure half of them are preparing their mansions. To have these meetings on their own turf might give them an advantage. They’re willing to try anything that might give them an edge.

The Don’s compound is neutral ground and yet, a reminder with its sprawling decadent expanse and gardens of what they all stand to gain if they convince Yoongi to choose their sons or daughters.

With its many tiers built into a hill and hidden by high walls, the expansive rooftop gardens guard well-lit doorways and ample balconies of the Don’s residence. The roses at the front have few blooms, mostly just sharp green leaves, this late in the year most things are dying and few are growing.

A Jacko lanterns sits at the bottom of the stairs, carved with a gruesome grimace. The long marble steps are wide enough that a dozen people could ascend at the same time. But Yoongi still hears the hissed protest from one of the elders. They shrivel their nose at it, their scent is so dull with age that Yoongi can’t tell if they used to be an alpha or an omega. 

“American traditions should have no place at our table.”

Yoongi wishes they’d give it a rest. Or at least speak in English, his Korean is rusty.

The heads of the family are done up in their finest suits and gowns, all black. But the logos that glimmer and fine tailoring betray the price of their adornments. It will be a little while before anyone feels comfortable wearing any color. He makes his rounds, saying hello and embracing people whose names he can hardly remember. Wishing condolences and congratulations with equal fervor. And endlessly repeating “I’ve made no decision yet” to anyone who dares even hint at wondering who he’s going to name Don.  

Yoongi almost forgot what the mansion looked like it’s been years since he last set foot here. The roman columns glitter in candlelight. The candied persimmons from last season lie in heaps around an altar with the Don and Betas face displayed large. Hundreds of candles dance in the breeze as each house pays their respect and passes. The incense stings Yoongi’s nose but the cold marble floors and sparce decorations are the same as he remembers. The usually fragrant trees in the entryway sit barren of both fruit and blooms.

But there is one person who lingers at the altar, more still than a statue and avoided like the plague.

Yoongi falls into step next to the women and stays quiet.

Mating marks are a dangerous game, a dangerous promise that thankfully Yoongi will be omitted from- because beta’s don’t mate. A bite to the scent gland on the throat- a bite anywhere really, that binds your life to another person’s for eternity.

Yoongi smiles at Mrs. Zhang, the omega of the late head of the house for that same family name. She has glassy eyes but a kind face, and before her husband died, she was one of the omega’s who regardless of family or status, would always drag the pups in for a treat in exchange for a bit of obedience and help folding dumplings.

But she gives no response to him now. Nothing at all that shows she’s reciprocated his kindness or even realized there is another human being beside her. Yoongi knows that her son has taken to bringing her to these family dinners because he feels like it reminds her of better times. Brings her closer to the surface. But part of Mrs. Zhang will always remain with her mate, part of her will always remain dead and there’s no bringing it back.

To lose your mate is to become a ghost- that’s what they’re called, both with insult and with ignobility. The alpha’s and omega’s who lose their bonded partners either die or turn into these specters.  Around 75% of living mates die after their partner passes, it’s not always instant. They’re not really in the clear until a year or so after.

And then there’s the mating marks, and what happens to them.

Yoongi knows he’s staring at it but honestly, he doesn’t think Mrs. Zhang even notices he’s looking. The mark on the side of her throat is pitch black, the skin the color of charcoal or poison. Two small circles that have branded themselves into the side of her throat forever. Thin black tracery stains everywhere, following her veins. Tracing all the way up her neck and across part of her face. Even touching her eye, staining the whites of it dark and hazy.

The color changed associated with ones mate dying has always creeped Yoongi out. The marks, usually silvery or small and pink when fresh, go black as death once it’s happened. It always reminded Yoongi of a cheesy zombie movie (that’s where zombie movies came from after all).

Yoongi alerts one of his cousins on the Zhang side of the family tree, and heads inside without making sure that Mrs. Zhang has been properly cajoled back into her wheelchair.

Even back when he still lived in this city- he was still much more used to the beta’s headquarters than this limestone monstrosity. He knows that the Don rarely slept in this house. It exists for one reason and one reason only.

Appearances.

Appearances are important. It’s evident in the decadent spread on the table. Family dinners are usually prepared by one of the aunties or elders, always an omega. Cooking for everyone is not something the younger family members are usually allowed to do- a point of pride and so terribly sexist that Yoongi can feel Seokjin roll his eyes from a world away.

He can almost hear Seokjin’s voice. He’d certainly have more indelicate things to say about the omega’s sitting around the long table. Each one is perfectly poised at their alpha’s side- but near uniform. Black dresses, red lipstick, hair pulled back into a low bun or ponytail. Not a hair out of place.

All but one. One omega does not have their hair pulled back. At least not entirely, shorter face framing pieces hide your cheekbones.

Yoongi’s eyes do not hover on you.

Although this dinner might have been cooked by the grannies and other trusted omegas, this one is catered by a small staff. Yoongi takes distant note of which family members thank the butlers in their suit coats and which ones make them spill their punch for a laugh.

Your hair falls loose around your face, hiding the way your eyes dart from person to person and Yoongi spies more than one of the elders eyeing you with distaste. It’s hard to find an excuse to look at you, a few people to his left.

You’re at Geumjae’s side, carefully poised, not a finger out of place as you smile and answer the questions asked to you politely- never instigating a conversation with another soul at the table. Picking at your food.

You’re his brother’s new omega wife. The fact that Yoongi never attended the wedding is something he’s teased about but no one really minds. It’s chalked up to his flightiness as a beta. You know how they are- said sagely with a smile, chagrined understanding that does not comfort Yoongi.

He’d always wondered which woman his brother had married, and now confronted with you. He finds himself curious.

It’s dangerous to be curious.

You might be married to Geumjae, but that doesn’t mean you’re a head of house like the other wives. You’re an outsider. Married in. A generation ago, it would have been a scandal. You’ll always be treated with a little bit of reluctance and a little bit of spite. You’re not related to any of them by blood, and that makes you a liability. A risk not all of them are willing to take. 

It doesn’t help that you’re the youngest omega at the table by a few years. You look a little too young- both to be here and by Geumjae’s side. You can’t be much older than Jongho. The wolves at the table eye you like you could be easy prey. 

Yoongi knows you are easy prey.

At first, you’re unremarkable- if not for the gentle sweet scent that flicks across Yoongi’s nose, something refreshing that Yoongi can’t place. It’s something that makes him instantly miss his Seokjin and Jungkook back home. The yearning for them lighting little sparks of heat on his cheeks. Yoongi tells himself that’s the only reason why he finds his eyes hovering on you.

Throughout the whole evening, you stick close to your husband’s side as a good omega should. One of the grannies praises you for knowing your place. Yoongi rolls his eyes internally at that. Gender roles are more strictly enforced within older packs and Yoongi grew up with this, but it’s still nauseating.  

Not all couples wear mating marks and neither do either of you yet. Yoongi notices that there is little on your neck besides a gaudy diamond necklace. So thick it almost looks like a collar. A little tacky. He wonders if you chose it or if Geumjae did.

Geumjae takes it off when one of the grannies asks to look at your unmarked neck, teasing, making sure you’re not hiding a mating mark under there. “The grannies like to look,” someone giggles, In Korean.

Yoongi doesn’t have to wonder if you know Korean because you hardly have any response when someone else replies. “Why? She’s hardly pretty. I don’t get what all the fuss is. It’s a shame really, that Jae ended up with such a wife.”

Moonbyul and her omega is here, her hair pinned back, short enough that she can’t put it in a bun but still tamed. It takes Yoongi a second to remember her name- Hyejin. 

Hyejin snaps at the other omega, “That reeks strongly of jealousy.”

“Your crow’s feet are showing.”

Hyejin scoffs, “You wish.” She answers, in English. Yoongi watches you turn, watches as Moonbyul’s omega looks at you blatantly and you exchange a look.  Your eyes dart back to your plate just as quickly.

Yoongi almost says something. Almost.

You stay utterly still when Geumjae leans to peck at your throat. But Yoongi catches your nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

Getting marked is more binding than a marriage pact- it’s agreeing to share your soul with someone. To intertwine your life with theirs’s. Which is why most people in the family choose to have mating marks- especially if they commit to bringing in an outsider. You can’t snitch on someone who can smell when you’re lying; you can’t kill someone who dies if you do. One of Yoongi’s female cousins asks you when you’ll do it, and you admit- sounding a little too relieved to escape notice- that you’ve decided to wait until your next heat to solidify the mating.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything but eat his meal and observe the way that Geumjae sets your diamond necklace across his thigh. Jongho sits at the other end of the table. And he’s distracted momentarily by the same elder from earlier who complained about the carved pumpkins telling off one of the staff for serving steak that’s medium rare and not rare.

Jongho cringes, and then their voices raise, alerting Yoongi to his plight.

“Don’t you know real alphas eat their meat raw,” she hisses, the youthful waiter apologizes. Holding a tray Infront of his midriff like it might guard his internal organs from her ire. “In my day we’d have taken your fingers for this.”

Geumjae grins next to Yoongi, laughing at how the waiter looks like he’s close to pissing his pants.

“They would not have.”

Yoongi ignores the way that the conversation quiets and the table falls silent. The same way he ignores the way that every face turns to look at him.

The elder splutters. They’re clearly not used to being interrupted, not used to being told off. And why would they be? Only Yoongi would dare, only Yoongi has the right to cajole and corral all of these people here.

Yoongi takes another bite. You put down your glass of wine, the red liquid in the glass sloshing. He watches you from the corner of his eye.  

“Yes, they would have.” It feels like bickering with a child so Yoongi chews slow, letting the table grow more and more quiet. More and more anxious.

“Do you really want to disagree with me?” he keeps his voice flat, lets the threat of the unknown linger. They can interpret his mask as they want, the level way he speaks, and interpret it as a threat without it actually being one. Yoongi takes great pains to gesture with his fork and not his knife. “You’re always going on about how the younger generation has no manners, why don’t you give us a demonstration and apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing to a fucking omega.”

Yoongi puts his fork down. And raises his eyebrow.

Jongho puts a hand on the table. “I agree with hyung, you should apologize.”

The hyung rings out, and suddenly the rest of the table is clambering to agree with Yoongi, following in Jongho’s footsteps. Calling Yoongi hyung sends a very particular message. Yoongi knows better, Jongho is just as cunning as Yoongi suspected.

The apology falls from the elder’s mouth after another breath. The waiter bows, accepts it, and walks back to the kitchen. Yoongi doesn’t see him for the rest of the evening. Yoongi goes back to observing the table. Dragged into meaningless conversation after meaningless conversation and the moment dissipates.

Yoongi doesn’t miss the way that Geumjae’s fingers dig into your neck, arm around your shoulder. Or the way that he can see faint bruises on your wrists when your sleeve falls down. Hidden partially by a set of thick gold bracelets. A gift from Geumjae you say when Yoongi compliments them.

Yoongi doesn’t say that they look more like shackles than anything else.

You meet his eyes over the table and your gaze quickly flickers away. Your attention is as fickle as a butterfly in a garden full of thorned roses. Prey animals have attention that goes all the way around- to keep an eye out for predators.

Your eyes hover on him longest. And Yoongi cannot help but feel like you’re assessing a new potential threat.

Yoongi has his suspicions already- and he’s only had one meal with you.

Which is why he compliments the bracelets. Yoongi knows how to be delicate. “Maybe you could show me where to find something like them,” he comments idly, talking to omegas about trinkets isn’t suspicious.

The other omegas sat at the table are dressed like a bunch of haughty crows, bespeckled with enough diamonds to put a jewelry store out of business. They eye Yoongi like he might be something shiny.  

“I think my omegas might like them something like that.”

They all know he has a pack, why should he hide it? Why shouldn’t he say it? Maybe it will stop the haughty omega across the table from preening, from looking at him like Yoongi’s his next meal. His fingers tap against the low v of his neckline, showing more with every twitch of his fingers. Tilting his neck to show his scent gland, his unmarked neck, His Delicately curly hair and a blotted lip is pretty, all but Simpering in his direction.

It’s a lie- both Jungkook and Seokjin hate heavy jewelry. Beyond the occasional studs or the hoops that Jungkook rarely ever takes out. Yoongi’s not really sure why he asks, why he offers to get you alone, why you look at him warily.

Maybe you suspect that Yoongi is like his brother. They look similar enough- almost twins in the right light. The only thing that really makes them look different is the scar that crosses Geumjae’s eye. You glance over at Geumjae and wait for his small nod of approval before you agree to his invitation.

You’re his sister-in-law for Christ’s sake. He should get to know you a little especially since you’re a part of the family now. Yoongi knows from experience how daunting this can be.  How overwhelming the family is.

Reluctantly, he has to admit that there are things about Geumjae that he wants to figure out.

Yoongi wonders why he feels like he’s justifying it.

~-~

The end of the dinner does not go entirely without conquest.

The family is fat and happy and tired from the meal, dotting mouths and taking mints and cocaine lines in the drawing room after tea and coffee. Yoongi declines some but Geumjae doesn’t. He watches as your husband leans in, pecks you on your still bare throat.

“Wait for me at home. Don’t sleep.”

You nod and exit with barely more than a look in his direction. Your eyes slide over Yoongi and everyone else like water sliding over glass.

Yoongi aims to follow. Aims to officially meet you but gets dragged into another conversation just before the stairs. You are down the steps already, waiting two steps from the bottom for the valet to bring your car around. Your breath mists in the cold fall air, a thick dark fur wrapped around your shoulders, but you shiver anyway. Yoongi bids his farewell to the others and goes after you.

Yoongi spends his descent observing you.

Yoongi watches as you reach up and tug your hair out of the bun and let it fall around your shoulders. Slowing when he descends to spend another second looking. The woman was definitely lying earlier when they called her ugly, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Seokjin says in his ear.

Jungkook’s chimes in too, if I’m model pretty and Jinnie is statue pretty then she’s like, fairy pretty or something.

Yoongi wonders if you’d have dared to do that if Geumjae was next to you. The breeze tickles your loose locks, picked up by the wind. His expensive shoes clack against the stairs. But no sooner is he nearing you than a commotion begins behind him and Yoongi turns.

It’s Jongho, it happens so quickly that Yoongi can hardly piece together what he’s seeing.

His father is trying to hold him up, but he can’t quite as he starts to teeter and fall. Jongho’s knees hit the marble steps with a loud crack, and he collapses clutching at his throat and spluttering for breath. His face goes red then purple, eyes bloodshot and bulging. Foam frothing at his mouth. It only takes a few seconds, and Yoongi finds himself jerking forward in his direction. But it’s too late.

Choi senior howls from the steps clutching at his son while he dies.

Yoongi’s heart thuds in his ears as the family surrounds the two of them, calling for the staff, for the doctor but it’s too late. By the end of it Jongho is sprawled on the steps looking up at the cloudy sky. There is blood vessels burst in his eyes red bleeds from the iris out. Yoongi is holding his shoulders but there’s nothing really that he can do.

The staff rush forward but there’s nothing to be done he twitches and falls still. “My son! Someone help my son!” Yoongi tries not to vomit all over the steps as Choi Senior pushes the rest away, nocking someone back into him.

The omegas are off to the side in a gaggle, gasping and clinging to each other, one of them leans close to the other.

“Isn’t it against family laws to take out a hit on someone during the morning period?”

“It is, do you think someone will be punished?”

“I hope it’s not my alpha.”

“Same.”  

I’m being punished Yoongi thinks, letting Choi senior clutch at him. Letting him sob into the beta’s arms under the indifferent eyes of everyone around, their muttering. Someone asks what they should do with the body. “We must find who did this we must-” Yoongi nods and grips his hand. Trying not to spill his dinner.

When Yoongi turns to look back at you. Your car has already started to pull away from the steps. Your face hidden from view by the tinted window.

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

-I went back and added the section so that we see someone with a dead mating mark so that we have CONTEXT honestly a god tier level thought. I feel like this rounds out that part of the story so well.

- Once again I’m hoping that people understand my weird formatting. If something is said in italics that means it’s in Korean! If it’s not mentioned over the phone or in a text message. Basically, my thought process is that things that are said out of the normal guise of conversation- or communicated in a way that is atypical, as a thought or apart of someone’s internal monologue then it should be italicized.

- SPOILERS- there’s something about reading this section where she’s sat at the table with the knowledge that she killed the last don and the beta, that makes all the things the others are saying/thinking about her so fucking funny like she really played them all! She did that! like fuck! reading Yoongi call her easy prey and knowing that he’s severely underestimating her is so- wow I really wrote this!

- Yoongi is lowkey really funny when he’s like ‘I’m being punished’ listening to the people be calloused about the death.

[hellinistical]

more hcs of rafayel with a desi/mena girl cause im in need. and yeah it does lean more towards Muslim girls BUT anyone can read obviously.

He's actually not that great at fasting. At least, not when it becomes something he has to do. The man can be painting all day and not eat but the second it becomes obligatory? Pain.

And he's also not that great in the fact that he can't really go to bed with you, ya know? cause he's gotta stay away from lust.

Brushes his teeth obsessively during Ramadan cause he'd be damned if his breath got rank when he wants to kiss you.

designs your hijabs and abayas, lehengas, dupattas- everything.

he's designed your rings so why not ya know?

I think he'd be really just obsessed with doing your henna even for occasions that are just ordinary. He'd have you guys have matching designs or better yet- connecting ones (where if you lay side by side or put your hands or whatever together the picture all connects.) giggles cause its yalls secret. his name is on you somewhere and yours is on his.

The type to claim to be a picky eater but that's just not the case. at least, for the most part.

He'll eat stuff like mansaf with lamb head or even jadoo—oh, but you can't deny him his seafood.

on eid, or rather, the night before, he cant sleep. he'd be far too excited and try to stay up all night like its a game between you two.

Eid outfits? oh you're KILLING it- no one is even coming close to you guys. he takes it seriously and loves the feeling that he's out done everyone. getting ready on the phone with your cousins and siblings and they're just "oh my god." cause they weren't expecting you to pop off AGAIN.

Somehow finds a way to get the best parking spot at the place the eid prayer gets even though its jam packed. He finds it. probably had thomas hold his place too. There will be no 10+ minutes of walking in your heels and nice clothes dragging on the side walk just to get to the car.

But aside from that, hates how crowded eid prayer gets and even though you wanna go early cause all your friends are going early he'd prefer to go when the last round of it is going. and the fact that itd be easier to find a parking spot.

is he queasy when picking out a lamb or goat? nah. I can see him pretending that he doesn't wanna do the slaughter but he does. picks out the one with the most meat on (and if you like the more fatty pieces makes sure to save those when he takes home the portions you guys want before donating the rest).

when you go to the mosque, he parks closer to the women section so its easier for you. and makes sure to get there early cause ofc he's gotta get a good spot. Always has a water bottle on hand, maybe some makeup wipes and an extra palette- knows how to fix your makeup for you. SUPER fast with it too.

If you wanna rant to him about podcast bros and wannabe tiktok sheikhs he'll gladly join in and help clown them. Cause who is he to let some buffoon, some deranged man (cough based bengali but don't come for me there's more) who graduated at tiktok university try and act like they know everything to upset his wife? He is not the one.

matter of fact hes probably doxed a couple just for the nonsense they say- (or maybe exposed them....)

should i do more

[duhshereadz]

A collection of random angsty head cannons I have:

Jinx:

1. **Catlike Sleep**: Jinx can’t sleep deeply in beds. She curls up in random places like on top of shelves, under tables, or wedged into corners, feeling safer when she’s hidden away. Her sleep is fitful and light, as if she’s always waiting for something to go wrong.

2. **Toy Soldier Graveyard**: She keeps a box of broken inventions—bombs that didn’t detonate, scrap toys she made as Powder, and even the remains of her childhood monkey bomb. Sometimes she talks to the pieces like they’re old friends, asking them why they failed her.

3. **Ink Therapy**: Jinx tattoos herself every time she feels like she’s survived something traumatic. Her chaotic body art tells a story only she understands, each piece representing her victories, losses, and guilt.

Vi:

1. **Old Gloves**: Vi secretly still has the tattered gloves Vander gave her when she first started fighting. They’re too small for her now, but she keeps them tucked in her pocket during missions, like a lucky charm. She’s terrified they’ll wear away entirely one day.

2. **Loner Nights**: Vi sneaks out at night and wanders Zaun, sitting in quiet alleyways just to feel connected to her past. She sometimes leaves small tokens—flowers, coins, scraps of metal—for the ghosts of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor.

3. **Scar Stories**: Every scar on her body has a story, and she remembers each one. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she traces them with her fingers, recounting every fight, every failure, every moment she wasn’t strong enough to protect someone she loved.

Caitlyn:

1. **Sniper Rituals**: Before using her rifle, Caitlyn has a strange ritual where she whispers a silent apology to her targets. She doesn’t know why she does it—she just hates the idea of taking a life, even when it’s necessary.

2. **Tea for Two**: After particularly bad days, Caitlyn sets out two cups of tea in her room—one for herself, and one for a person she wishes she could talk to, whether it’s her father, her mother, or even Vi when she’s not around. She rarely drinks from the second cup.

3. **Trophy Room**: She has a secret drawer in her room filled with small tokens from cases she’s solved: a piece of fabric, a photo, a bullet casing. She uses them to remind herself why she fights for justice, but sometimes they just remind her of the people she couldn’t save.

Ekko:

1. **Clockwork Comfort**: When Ekko feels overwhelmed, he builds tiny mechanical birds and insects, winding them up and watching them flutter around his room. It’s his way of reminding himself that he can create life instead of just fighting against death.

2. **Grief Journal**: Ekko keeps a notebook where he writes letters to the friends he’s lost. Each entry starts with their name and a memory of something happy they shared, but by the end, he’s usually crying, scribbling apologies for not being able to save them.

3. **Old Music Box**: He has a broken music box from his childhood that he refuses to fix. It belonged to someone important—maybe his mother or a close friend—and though it no longer works, he listens to the silence as if it still plays their favorite song.

Jayce:

1. **Blueprint Guilt**: Jayce has a hidden vault of failed inventions that never worked as intended. Each one represents a moment where he feels like he let Piltover down. Sometimes he dreams of these blueprints exploding, the fragments injuring everyone around him.

2. **Crumpled Speeches**: Jayce writes letters to Viktor, confessing his regrets and insecurities about how their partnership fractured. He never delivers them, leaving them crumpled up in his desk drawer, afraid that nothing he says will fix what’s broken.

3. **Forge Visits**: Late at night, Jayce visits old smithing forges in Piltover. The hammering of metal on anvils calms him, a reminder of simpler times when all he had to worry about was crafting weapons, not leading a nation.

Viktor:

1. **Silence of the Undercity**: Viktor dreams of the Undercity, but it’s always eerily quiet—no voices, no machinery, just him wandering through empty streets. He wakes up sweating, unsure whether he’s relieved or sad that it was only a dream.

2. **Hidden Garden**: Viktor secretly tends to a tiny plant in his lab, hidden behind stacks of books and equipment. It’s the only living thing he cares for outside of himself, and he fears that if it dies, it’s a sign that he’s lost touch with his humanity.

3. **Staring at the Stars**: When Viktor feels the weight of his mortality, he goes to the highest point in Piltover and stares at the stars. He wonders if he’ll ever leave a mark on the world big enough to be remembered—or if he’ll just fade away like the stars in the morning.

Sevika:

1. **Cracked Mirror**: Sevika has an old cracked mirror in her room, one she refuses to replace. She hates looking at herself, especially the scars and the mechanical arm, but she forces herself to stare into it every morning as a twisted form of penance.

2. **Family Photo**: She carries a faded photo of her family—parents and siblings she hasn’t seen in years—tucked in the lining of her jacket. It’s the only thing from her past she hasn’t burned, but she doesn’t let anyone see it.

3. **Card Games Alone**: Sevika sometimes plays cards by herself, recreating the games she used to play with her gangmates. She cheats against herself, muttering curses and laughing bitterly, pretending they’re still around to play with her.

[itsfrthebirds]

one of my favorite hcs is that every civilian in new york knows spiderman's secret identity and is just super chill about it.

it gets even funnier when you choose to believe that peter's the only one who thinks his identity is still 100% a secret.

like yeah the deli man always sees peter come in with the suit peeking out of his shirt collar, but spiderman saved his cat a few months ago, so it's all good. (peter gets a free coffee every time he comes in, but he figures that's just cus the guy is nice to his regulars.)

peter's classmates in college see spiderman swinging outside the building and then peter walks in a second later out of breath apologizing for being late, but when that dude made of sand attacked union square a while back, spiderman saved half of their asses, so they just carry on as per usual. (his professors always give him extensions when he asks for them, but peter figures that's the policy for everyone, right?)

everyone at the daily bugle knows peter is spiderman (because how tf else is he getting those photos) but they stay quiet about it– half of them because they like seeing how much it fucks with JJJ (who is perhaps the only person in the office who doesnt put it together), and the other half because they genuinely just don't give a shit what the kid does in his free time. everyone's gotta have a hobby. (peter is astonished that no one ever questions how he gets these insane photos of spiderman.)

and this applies to people who don't even know peter by name, too. commuters who take the same bus line as him at the same time most mornings recognize his voice when he thanks the driver on his way off, but honestly, they know its probably the safest bus in the world right now because spiderman is on with them, so they're chill about it so they don't scare him off. the local thrift stores are all very aware that the kid constantly coming in buying secondhand tech is most definitely using it to make webshooters and gadgets, but it's good business and he's taking old stuff off the shelves that's been there for months, so why would they complain? half the bodegas in the city recognize peter by his voice alone, because peter and spiderman both come by and greet the cats in the exact same way.

[inquisitornocturn]

NSFW alphabet no.14 - Calligos Winterscale

Do you not love Calligos? Can I change your mind?👀

Calligos was requested by Anonymous <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

For most things not hunt related – Calligos expects to be served, and so he won’t be one to dote on you personally. No, he has serfs for that, so whatever you may need after ending up in a bed with him, he will have a person or two deliver it straight to the bedroom. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care how you feel, on the contrary, it’s much faster to order someone to bring refreshments if needed. Otherwise, he will be curious how are you, are you sore, but you have a suspicion that he’s asking only to hear how well he ravaged you, because otherwise he expects you not to break easily, so to speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Calligos imagines himself to be the epitome of masculinity, and nothing’s more masculine than appreciating your physical form that is toned and shaped by countless encounters with enemies from which he emerged victorious. So for body part it’s as simple as it gets – his cock has to be worshiped and he’s not shy or quiet about it either. But he really loves it when you appreciate his scars or his muscles, because he can tell you tales of his conquests for hours and will do so easily if encouraged. On his partner he prefers well rounded body parts. Wide hips, breasts and ass, or thighs, anything that he can grab handfuls of. And usually his mouth follows.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He absolutely loves when you are dripping with his cum or are covered in it. He also has a fascination coming onto your stomach and chest, enjoying watching how it covers your skin, rolls down the curves, you name it. You are his and Calligos wants to see you claimed in a way no one else gets to. On that note, coming into you just before you two have to go somewhere, and the knowledge that his seed is soaking through your underwear, reminding you of him with every step you take, brings him extra satisfaction.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He quite enjoys being dominated, although that’s something Calligos would be hard-pressed to admit. Sure, he will let you take control of the bedroom once in a while, playing it off as if it’s merely for his amusement, but in truth it heavily turns him on and while he wouldn’t exchange his own leading role during intimacy for this full-time, he still likes it when you occasionally take the dominant role and command the session as if he’s your mere slave.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s very experienced and that’s something he will boast about with full capability to back up his claims. Calligos even implies that he slept with a drukhari once, although you are not too sure if you should believe him. So in short, yes, he definitely knows what he’s doing, how, when and how far he can push you during sex.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

With you on your back, and your legs on his shoulders so that he can thrust as deep as possible. There are few things more satisfying to Calligos than bottoming out when having sex with you and generally, any position that allows this is what he will go for if possible. So yes, with you on your back not only he can achieve exactly that, he also can witness how you respond and how much you’re enjoying it. He also prefers to watch your body move and jiggle in all the right places as he plows into you and kisses can be administered later if needed, but during sex – Calligos wants to see you, hear you and feel you to the fullest. He treats it like a love letter to his sexual prowess and enjoys every single second of it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

While Calligos is not averse to chuckles and lighter mood during sex, he much prefers you moaning and screaming his name than laughing. That doesn’t mean that he will be angry if you bring said lighter mood to the bedroom, but his satisfaction comes from a job well done and that job is leaving you utterly spent, sweaty and gasping for air. However, Calligos does enjoy lazy morning sex and so during those he will be more humorous than usual, excitement for a new day and what he can achieve during it bringing a more joyful mood in him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

That man is proud of his masculinity, as already said, and one sign of a masculine man is his chest hair. And hair elsewhere. While he won’t be rocking a full bush, simply because it might complicate things with zippers, Calligos won’t spend precious time meticulously trimming every hair. Mainly, he keeps it tidy around his cock and it’s because it makes erection look great (and the aforementioned zippers). Everywhere else – it’s as God-Emperor created him. Granted, while Calligos is not paranoid about personal hygiene, used to spending weeks and sometimes months in less than ideal conditions for even grabbing a shower whilst pursuing one enemy or another, he still prefers to stay clean when he can. Although that might be least of his priorities when on a field of battle, however long that takes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Calligos is a romantic, just not in a conventional way. He won’t be whispering sweet nothings into your ear during sex and he won’t be bringing you a cup of water or flowers afterwards. So when it comes to sex itself, he’s not the most romantic guy, but next time he drops a massive head of some beast he felled on a far away planet – that’s how you know Calligos is trying to be romantic, in his own way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Calligos is not the biggest fan to jerk off himself, much more preferring someone else to take care of that for him and even more so – why masturbate when you can have sex. So he won’t be the guy seeking the privacy of his chambers just for the sole purpose of putting his cock in his palm. No, instead Calligos will be looking for someone to spend time with and alleviate whatever pressures he is feeling in that moment. Namely – you. And while he might do it once or twice when you two are separated and not able to meet up, it won’t affect much in how pent up Calligos ends up being by the time you have enough privacy to fuck. So buckle up, because he won’t hold back.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding is definitely a kink of Calligos, but a lighter version of it. He’s not going to be seeking out women to impregnate, nor he truly enjoys being around pregnant women, but with his partner, the sheer possibility of you bearing another heir for him is what turns Calligos on. He’s not obsessed with the kink either. While he is definitely a man who enjoys having progeny, he wouldn’t want you to be pregnant all the time, it’s mainly so inconvenient that he does not wish to incapacitate you in such way more than what you yourself want. But as the kink goes, he likes breeding in more of a “let’s pray pretend” kind of way. After all, he does enjoy filling you to the fullest.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A soft, big bed is what Calligos prefers. That’s not say that he’s unwilling to fuck anywhere else, he very much can and will, but to him sex is about comfort and rewards of pleasure. So he prefers not to roll in the dirt or catch something from fucking in some shady alley. Bed is just comfortable and most importantly – no one will interrupt his time with you, which he hates when it happens. Now, while a bed is preferable, that doesn’t mean that any other furniture in the bedroom won’t be used as well as long as it has a suitable surface.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Calligos is a warrior at heart and biggest turn on for him is when you fight by his side, cutting through enemies as his equal. After-battle sex is very much a thing for him and even you recounting your fights for which he himself wasn’t present is a turn on for this man. To witness you win, to gather your own trophies, to command the troops and lead them into the battle – all of these things make Calligos hard and looking for first chance to fuck you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any kind of joking at his expense or mockery in the bedroom will have him dressed up and gone within a matter of minutes. And if you don’t hold any status – that will get you executed as well. You don’t have to pick your words carefully around Calligos, well, not too much at least, but make sure that you don’t insult his physique or his physical prowess because that’s something he won’t be forgiving you any time soon, if ever.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely receiving is what he prefers. Worship his cock, deepthroat it, choke on it, gag on it, make a mess out of yourself while you suck him off. It’s an immense satisfaction for Calligos to see you come undone just by having your mouth around his erection. Even better if you touch yourself during it, coming as he fills your throat with his cum. He’s less eager to go down on you, much preferring to fuck you, but that doesn’t mean that when he does find himself between your legs, he’s not enthusiastic about it. Calligos knows very well how to satisfy and while it’s not his first choice in how to make you come, it’s not something he shuns or avoids. It’s just not a priority for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Calligos does not like to waste time and that goes for sex. So his preferred pace is on a faster side, but not really rough. Just fast, deep and hard. He’s not the type of man to want to leave bruises on your body or risk hurting you in a way that’s less than sexy, but he won’t be going slow because the friction is just not satisfying enough for him when it’s not on a faster end.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a preferred way for Calligos to have sex, but he won’t avoid them either. Especially this becomes very true to him when after-the-battle yearning kicks in. Seeing you covered in blood of the enemies and disheveled after a fight is almost as good to him as seeing you in a similar state from being fucked by him. But that’s pretty much the only occasion where you can expect him to forego the idea of ravishing you thoroughly and opt out for something fast and short.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Calligos will experiment to a degree, just don’t bring any xenotech to the bedroom and it should be alright. Or, for that matter, any weird Ad-Mech tech either. In short, he won’t have you harmed during sex, and does not enjoy being harmed either. These are just not the risks that he is willing to take. Otherwise, Calligos is pretty open to most things at least once. Who knows what he will end up liking? And so, if you can present an idea to him interesting enough, he will be willing to try it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While it’s already mentioned that Calligos likes to fuck on a faster side, he compensates shorter sessions by having more than one of them. Going twice in one night, sometimes thrice, is not out of the question, especially if he gets his hands on special stimms that improve his stamina. Which he sometimes needs if the battle was extremely exhausting but he still wants his reward. For him – the more sex, the better and he won’t shy away from improving his performance a little bit if the occasion calls for it. As long as you can keep up.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely owns toys so that he can use them on you, simple as that. Not only that, Calligos likes to make you come more than once per night, as many times as possible, and that’s where the toys come in as he recharges between his own orgasms. Dildos, vibrators, other normal tech is something he is familiar with and will use. However, he is very much less willing to have toys used on him. A cock ring he might be talked into wearing, but that’s pretty much as far as it goes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Calligos simply does not tease. Neither outside the bedroom or inside of it. He likes sex, he enjoys it, and he wants you to enjoy it too. He will edge you, however, and won’t stop you from edging him, but that’s as far as the teasing goes. When Calligos wants sex, he has sex, simple as that. Teasing sometimes does happen if you’re too exhausted at the moment to continue and he’s still ready, but that’s not a frequent occasion.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Neither very loud or silent, Calligos is somewhere in the middle when it comes to making noises. He doesn’t need the entire ship hearing what you two are doing, unless, of course, it is you who is screaming with pleasure. So he will grunt, and swear, and tell you how good you feel wrapped around his cock or with your mouth around it, but he much prefers it if only you hear such words and not his crew.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite his mild kink for breeding, Calligos loves anal. And especially if he has enough time to fill both your holes. But anal is quite a special treat for him and if you play your cards right, you can make him do almost anything for you with a promise of a special night together. There’s just something so satisfying for him to fuck you while watching your pussy drip and drool for him, as if begging to be filled as well. On that note, that’s why Calligos also loves when you use buttplugs. If he knows that you have one inside you during some very important meeting, now that will make him hard despite the seriousness of present situation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Quite larger than average, pointing straight and slightly curved upwards, even girth throughout and has several scars from too close calls of losing his cock to a fight or a risky tryst. The color is a darker shade than rest of his skin and decently veiny as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high sex drive. Calligos enjoys all the finer things in life, from leisure hunts, to best meals and drinks, and sex is one of the pleasures that he freely partakes in and does so often. He will also absolutely expect you to match him when it comes to libido.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Always boasting how he has stamina for days, to his own chagrin Calligos falls asleep quite fast. And it’s better you don’t tease him about it because he will be grumpy for days, thinking that you mock his prowess in all things physical. But even so, before he falls asleep, Calligos will have you in his arms. His most beautiful and precious conquest, the only pursuit that he didn’t even want to consider ending in failure. You’re his priceless prize and so in his sleep, he will make sure that you’re safe in his arms, where you belong.

[completeoveranalysis]

[5]

Ohoho Egg Time!

Or at least Egg Explanation Time. 

I can’t remember exactly how much xxxHolic told us about where the Egg came from, but we see a little glimpse of it in the first frame here - in Acid Tokyo, when Sakura had her solo mission in the desert and brought back the monster egg that split into two when given to Yuuko. 

It’s a lovely parallel to what happened with Lava Lamp and Watanuki. 

And I’m sure Yuuko is just about to explain which two people the egg is for, but it’s Watanuki and Himawari! Or like, Himawari and Doumeki, but the Doumeki egg is specifically to save Watanuki, so that’s basically the same thing.

Yeah here we go!

With an addendum of ohhhhhh! So the different names and appearances was a deliberate choice in an effort to keep them both existing and not erased by the vague timeline rules!

That’s very fun. 

Also you could also draw a parallel between one egg that was born to be raised (Lava Lamp) and one egg that gave birth to nothing (since Watanuki was originally intended to vanish). That’s slightly less fun!

Also if Yuuko opening the locket is the going to reveal the actual faces of the parents I’m going to scream.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. 

BUT!

BUT! MATCHING FAMILY MOMENT! WATANUKI WITH HIS PARENTS! WATANUKI IN LITTLE FORMAL WEAR! 

WATANUKI AND LAVA LAMP HAVING MATCHING PHOTOGRAPHS WITH THEIR PARENTS! 

And their parents giving Watanuki an auspicious name designed to protect him from his fate - which has worked so far! And even the word itself is about a process of conversion!

The meaning behind it all!

[vounoura]

I do think a Mercar Rook having utterly no ties to Dock Town other than a more vague 'Neve and I are from the same city but different parts' is a bit of a lost opportunity ngl

[bookwyrminspiration]

i gotta speed run the entire trials of apollo series NO ONE tell my little sister if she asks yeah I totally read them a while back I'm definitely not frantically reading them after years of sitting on my shelf just for her <3

[youraveragecatastrophe]

At the end of the episode, Carmen has known Ivy and Zack for 2 hours top and she's like 'sure I'll put two randos on my crew, they seem nice :)'

And Zack and Ivy have known this weird lady for 2 hours top and are also like 'yeah we'll follow her no questions asked'

I love all of them for that.

[lokissweater]

DON’T HAVE TO GUESS

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta is the greatest boyfriend to ever grace this earth. one problem though? he refuses to touch you out of fear of making you uncomfortable or disrespecting you (no matter how bad he wants it). your pent up sexual frustration is at an all time high and you’re sick of him rejecting your advances, so you devise a plan to get him to crack.

content: MDNI. FILTHY SMUT, smut with plot, established relationship, afab!reader, pet names, references to alcohol and drinking, college party, cursing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), dirty talk, FERAL YUTA, oral, creampie, yuta is down bad for you.

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: theming inspired by charli xcx ft. miss billie eilish’s song “guess” !! MWAH.

if you would like to know the origin story of this au, you can read it here! but it can also be read without it :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

yuta felt like an absolute freak.

ever since you both officially became a couple, he’s been the absolute happiest man alive and never ever goes a day without showering you with affection, kisses, and telling you how much he loves and adores you.

but behind that? yuta has a little secret.

and he is gnawing at the iron bars of his enclosure in absolute torture every time you do something, anything, that can get his little horn dog mind to imagine you in thirty five different positions on his bed crying out for him.

it doesn’t even have to be something you do that remotely resembles anything sexual, so on a day where you were sitting pretty beside him in the passenger seat of his car, the blood rushing to his dick at the sight of the seatbelt strap pushing in between your puffy boobs—

he knew it was bad.

yuta’s shamefully always thought about these things— even when you were both just on best friend status. but it’s harder now, much harder for him to behave because he doesn’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. he respects you so much and always treats you like pretty porcelain glass, delicately running his hands over your body and soft face when you share a kiss or an embrace.

so now whenever he feels his heart pounding against his chest, face boiling red, and the all too familiar feeling of the lower region of his pants maybe getting a little too tight because of you, he immediately removes himself from the situation to prevent from spazzing out.

the bad thing was— this happened practically every single day and nearly every other hour, to the point where it was blatantly obvious and you were completely and utterly confused as to why.

every time you stand up on your tippy toes to give him a sugary kiss, arms wrapped around his neck and yuta’s arms around your waist, the makeout doesn’t last for more than thirty seconds before he’s pulling apart from your lips with a smack!, walking away with his head down, hands tight at his sides, and with a lame excuse for his abrupt leave.

every time you accidentally drop something and bend over to retrieve it with yuta standing directly behind you— when you come back up and turn your head to face him, he’s already staring back at you with wide eyes, lips pressed into a thin line and cheeks flushed pink. you’d ask then if he was okay, to which he would respond by a quick nod of the head and a dash out of the room to leave for a moment… again.

he did it so much to the point where he eventually avoided touching you all together, and you absolutely hated it. yuta’s always been affectionate with you, he’s never not touched you, and on a day where you swung a leg over his lap to straddle him on his bed, eager to show him a little loving and a smooch— you had just about had it when he placed his hands on your hips as you were trailing your mouth down his neck, physically pulling you off his lap and leaving the room— muttering about god knows what.

until you noticed.

you and yuta were seated on your living room couch watching a movie, the both of you dozing off gingerly as his head was resting against your shoulder, undoubtedly exhausted after a days worth of college classes and homework.

you went to place a sleepy hand on his upper thigh, about to tell him that you both should move upstairs to your room and sleep, but when your fingers accidentally grazed his crotch area, yuta shot up like a light and startled you awake— eyes blown wide and frantic.

“whatareyoudoing—”

“yu! my god—” you placed a hand over your heart, chest heaving. “i was just gonna tell you that we should go up to my room and sleep.”

yuta’s shoulders visibly dropped, and he closed his eyes momentarily before licking his lips, exhaling deeply.

“h-oh my god—“ he opened his eyes again after regulating his breathing and looked at you with worried eyes. “fuck i’m sorry baby… did i scare you?”

you gave him a little nod and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders then, kissing your cheek and the side of your head apologetically. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i did that.”

but you did, and it was like a switch had gone off in your head, everything finally making sense.

every moment he would suddenly leave, or remove you from him when you tried anything, or every expression and reaction he made when you would wear something tight or short, all fell into place like a delicious puzzle piece.

so when he lead you to bed and cuddled you up innocently to sleep that night, you came up with a plan to test this theory.

you wanted yuta to crack.

unfortunately, your first attempt was a fail.

yuta had plans to take you out on a little summer picnic date by the beach, and when he arrived at your house and you texted him to come in and make himself at home in your room, you were absolutely giddy, fixing your dress and applying the finishing touches to your makeup in the bathroom.

you had slipped on a long, skin tight black spandex dress for the day— one that hugged every inch and crevice of your body like a vice, a mischievous look in your eyes as you ran your fingers through your styled hair before leaving, practically skipping down the hall back to your room.

the minute you came in, yuta’s eyes flew open.

“hi baby!” you greeted sweetly, walking over to where he sat at the edge of your bed and leaned down, planting a soft kiss to his blushing cheek.

score.

“h-hi.”

“do you like it?” you asked eagerly, doing a little twirl for him and mentally making sure to pop your ass out a little more in his direction. “i bought it just yesterday!”

“i.. i do, baby.” he squeaked, voice hoarse and mind in a full blown fucking panic when you took his hands in yours and ushered him to stand.

but he remained stiff as a board, arms glued to his sides and hands in tight fists as he looked at you, face strained.

you playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands, guiding them towards you. “you can touch me, silly. here— feel the spandex-”

and you purposely dropped his hands to land right on your ass with a smack.

yuta immediately inhaled sharply through his nose and choked, his face dropping straight into the crook of your neck to hide his delirious expression. yuta was biting the inside of his cheek so unbelievably hard that he tasted metal, his eyes squeezing shut as nasty thoughts flashed through his mind like a forest fire.

holy shit holy shit holy shit—

“f..feels nice,” he muttered into your neck, and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your lips up to his ear.

“does it?”

you felt yuta giving in and slowly squeeze the plump of your ass, and he felt like an absolute fucking monster at the way he was feeling you up when in his eyes, you were just innocently showing him your pretty little long dress.

but just when you thought you had won, your smile wide with delight, he tore away from you and excused himself from the room with a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded and defeated.

on your second attempt, you refused to accept defeat and planned more diligently than before, his tiny mess up from last time motivating and proving to you that your plan could bear fruit.

this day was particularly scorching, one of the hottest days of the year as you and yuta decided to get ice cream after one of his lectures from a shop down the street, an attempt at cooling off and escaping the heat.

you were sitting on a cute bench under shade just outside the shop as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, nervous and wearing a low cut baby doll top that showed a little more boob than you originally intended, but due to the circumstance at hand… the more the merrier!

after a few minutes, the door to the shop chimed open and yuta stepped out— two vanilla ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles delectably adorning the pair of soft serves in his hands. he carefully handed one to you and grinned.

“here baby.”

you took a cone from his offering hand gratefully and licked a little off it as he sat down.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly, and it made his heart skip a beat as you both sat there, enjoying the summer heat and each others gentle company.

without yuta noticing though, you had stopped licking your ice cream as he chatted to you about the things he had to do for the coming week, attentively listening to him as you patiently waited— the vanilla soft serve glistening under the heat and slowly melting, droplets oozing off the sides until one landed right on your tit.

score.

“oh!” you gasped, looking down and pouting, “i spilled someee.”

yuta quickly reached to the side and pulled out a napkin he had brought from the shop, extending it out towards you but faltering when you shook your head frantically.

“no! it’ll go to waste! and i can’t reach down and lick it off myself…” you huffed and looked at him with the cutest face he had ever seen you make… you smirking deviously on the inside. “can you lick it off for me, yu? please.”

you had said it so nonchalant, so casual like it was the easiest most normal thing in the world to do, but it had yuta’s body and mind freezing over as you scooted closer to him, waiting.

“h— huh?” he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from your tits, the sight of ice cream drooling down over them an image he wanted to tattoo behind his eyelids to look at forever— his cheeks bright pink.

“hurry! it’s gonna stain my top,” you whined, putting a hand on his shoulder as yuta let you tug him down, him ogling and literally gawking over your chest.

without another thought, yuta stuck his slick tongue out and slowly ran it over the top of your puffy tit just like you had asked him to, the angel on his shoulder screaming at him to stop as his tongue continued to trail up your chest and around your neck, your breath hitching in surprise.

the sound of your reaction broke him out of his trance and he flinched away from you, chest heaving and pupils blown out with the biggest pit of shame in his stomach, feeling like a fucking pervert.

but you, your shoulders evidently deflated in disappointment as you pressed your thighs together, trying to mend the buzzing ache between your legs as your mind thought over and over about what he did, something you didn’t expect at all, and something you wanted him to do again.

“let’s… let’s go for a walk, yeah?” yuta spoke quickly and gently to you, taking your hand that was on his shoulder and pulling you up off the bench, him confused as to why you had a frown on your face.

but for the third and final attempt, you were utterly and hopelessly desperate. every time you guys hung out, yuta was still the absolute sweetest and did everything he could to make you happy, yet he still just wouldn’t touch you, and it was driving you fucking crazy.

you were getting reckless at this point, your pent up sexual frustration sky rocketing with every passing day, but you were completely oblivious to the fact that yuta was dealing with the same form of torture.

except way, way worse.

it’s gotten to the point where just the sound of your sweet sugary voice over the speakers of his phone has him biting down on the edges of his pillow, arms wrapped tightly around himself and his body curled up into a pathetic ball of despair, his dick rock solid and his mind filled with thoughts that consisted of strictly just you.

so when you called him up and asked if he wanted to come with you to one of your girl friend’s parties, yuta knew he was one hundred percent fucked.

he wanted to keep respecting you. he wanted you to know how special you were to him and how serious he was about your relationship with him, and he sure as hell did not want you to feel uncomfortable because he was a horny piece of shit that didn’t know self control and wanted to have sex every five minutes.

except he was a horny piece of shit, has always been one over you, and yuta knew the second he saw you dolled up in your pretty little dress looking absolutely lethal, he was going to lose it.

and he did.

with his arms crossed over his chest and a tight hand over his mouth, he nodded and hummed out a series of “mhm’s” at everything you were saying as you finished up getting ready, his eyebrows pinched together in complete agony at the sight of you.

the pastel green glittery dress you had on was so criminally short that any inch of movement you made, the bottom of your ass cheeks would peak out from below the hem of your dress.

he slightly lowered his hand from his mouth. “baby?”

“yeah?” you responded softly and turned your body to face him, spritzing your vanilla coconut perfume over your frame.

“i-isn’t your dress— a little short?”

you put the perfume bottle down on your vanity desk and looked down, internally giddy that he noticed the length, your plan coming into fruition.

score.

“oh is it?” you tugged at the hem of your dress, scooting it back down. “does it look bad? i—”

“no no!” yuta’s hands shot out frantically as he shook his head. “you’re so so pretty baby, the most gorgeous little thing i’ve ever seen,” he took a few steps toward you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, being mindful of your perfectly styled hair that made him weak in the knees. “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night and not enjoy yourself.”

your heart melted at his words and consideration as you smiled warmly, eyes sparkling up as you gave him a cute peck on the lips and hugged him back, “you’re so nice to me, yu.”

yuta snorted but looked down at you fondly. “that’s the bare minimum baby.”

“so.” you peeled away from him and walked over to the bed to pick up your purse, swinging the strap over your shoulder. “all i do is make you ham sandwiches after your soccer practices.”

yuta laughed loudly, “that’s all you do?”

“yup!”

he nudged your shoulder playfully with his, a grin on his face as he walked down the stairs with you and out the door to his car.

“brat.”

at the party, your plan was to be as devilish and flashy as possible, showing off every curve and angle of your body to your boyfriend in means of getting him to crack, and your ticket there was the length of your dress—

but more specifically?

what you had on underneath.

when you met up with the rest of your friend group that were all residing on the long lounge sofa in the living room like always, you grabbed yuta’s hand and led him over to join the rest of them. he politely greeted each and every one, keeping you close by the hip before you both settled down on the couch.

yuta wasn’t a big party person like you were, but he also didn’t particularly dislike them either. as long as you were there with him, he always ended up getting shit faced and having the time of his life with you and your friends, something that didn’t even happen when he went to parties with his own friends.

your closest girl friend that sat across from you at an angle turned her body, yelling over the music. “have you tried this?!”

she pointed to the red solo cup in her hand, and you shook your head.

“no! what is it?!”

“someone from the frat next door made a mix of malibu and pineapple rum! it’s really good here!-”

she reached over and offered her cup, and as soon as you stood to retrieve it, an idea popped into your head— eyes widening. without another thought, you moved over to stand right in front of yuta before fully and erotically bending and lunging over to reach for the cup.

he stopped breathing. he looked at the way your dress rode up literally half way up your ass and he stopped breathing.

it was so unbelievably high up that he saw the color of your underwear— a lacy black pair with little bows adorned over the sides like a present, slightly see through but enough to see the outline of your lower lips.

yuta clasped a tight hand over his mouth, but as soon as that happened he realized that whatever he was seeing, everybody else was seeing as well. including that stupid moron that had been staring at you since the moment you both got here.

in record time his trembling arms shot out and yuta grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it back down over your ass as he wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, pulling you back to sit on his lap.

you loved that he did that, but as you sipped the drink and chatted on with your friends, you were entirely unaware of the way yuta’s arms were gripped around your waist like a lock, his forehead resting on your back with his face hidden.

yuta felt like an absolute fucking freak again as the image of your puffy lower lips outlining your lacy panties flicked over and over and over again in his mind without a break. he felt so nasty, so shameful and so hard as he tried with all of his will power to calm his breathing and stop the bouncing of his right knee, eyes screwed tight.

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck—

he needed you so badly, needed to slip that skimpy dress off of you and bury his face in between your legs, needed to slip his swollen dick out and grope your tits and pump his—

shut up shut up shut up—

at the feeling of his leg bouncing rapidly, you looked back and slightly turned yourself, confused at the sight of his hung head that was refusing to detach from your body and look at you properly.

you placed a gentle hand at the top of his head, the feeling of his silky black hair underneath your fingers. “yu?—”

his head snapped up straightaway, and your eyes widened as you took in the way his chest was heaving and his pupils were blown out, face completely red and his body practically shivering beneath you.

you frowned, “baby? are you okay?”

you shifted once more to assess him better, but his eyes only shot back down to your ass as he felt your dress rise up again.

such pretty bows…

yuta smashed his face in against your side, eyes screwed shut.

calm down calm down calm down—

it was almost completely dark in the frat house, colors of red and blue and green bouncing across the walls of the lower level as people drank and made havoc, your friends all caught up in their own inebriated worlds to realize what was happening between the both of you.

and at the feeling of his hardened cock against your ass, you slowly smiled and finally understood— your hand coming up to stroke his cheek lovingly, the act simple and innocent, until you took his hand from your lap and agonizingly dragged it further up and up and up your thigh…

shit shit shit—

until you guided his shaking fingers to the patch of wet in between your parted thighs, the lace material up against the pads of his—

fuck it.

yuta pushed you off of his lap and stood, snatching your wrist tightly before tugging and dragging you away from the couch and through the mass of people on the dance floor.

“yuta!” you yelled over the music. “where are we going?”

you were so confused, and you worried that maybe you had pushed his buttons a little too far and that now he was upset, and judging by the way he didn’t even turn around or respond when you spoke to him, it looked like that might be the case.

you gnawed at your bottom lip in concern as he led you both up the stairs of the house— you focused on trying to keep your dress from riding completely up and him opening and closing several different doors before he found what he was looking for.

yuta dragged you in the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, his lips instantly latching onto your cheek, desperate wet open mouthed kisses dropping down to your neck and down to your chest as you gasped.

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—” he repeated like a chant, voice muffled by the way he was sucking on your neck like a little leech, his fingers looping themselves in the straps of your dress before pulling down and revealing your bare tits to him.

you were wholeheartedly gobsmacked at what he was doing and you were loving every single second of it, the way his wild eyes darted over your tits and his wet lips just about drooling over them.

“i’m gonna suck your tits,” his gaze shot back up to you, chest rising and falling. “okay baby?”

a fierce blush spread over your cheeks at his words, mentally cursing yourself for wanting this so bad but feeling bashful at the wrong freaking time.

you barely even nodded before he picked you up by the waist and set you down on the counter of the sink, his wet tongue darting across the plush of your breasts and pressing flat against your nipple, your breath hitching at the feeling.

yuta sucked and nipped feverishly at your nipples, getting them slick and slippery with his spit as he squeezed at your waist desperately, your pretty moans ringing through his ears making his bulge tighten and strain against the buckle of his belt.

he trailed his tongue back up to your neck and groped the fat of your ass with his hands, subconsciously rutting into your covered lips as he whined and groaned over the warmth of your pussy.

“i— i’m gonna cum in my pants if we keep going.” he puffed out, tone constricted as he looked at you with feral half lidded eyes.

you nodded quickly. “but i want you to, yu. inside me.”

yuta’s eyes blew wide open as he shook his head, and you felt the way his hands trembled while he gripped your hips.

“we— we can’t baby,” panting, he unwillingly pulled his bulge slightly apart from your warmth and looked at you sincerely. “i can’t do that to you—“

“do what?” you asked softly, tilting your head to the side. “make love to me?”

“no— well, yes?” he dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder and placed his hands at the edge of the counter to support his weight, groaning.

“i don’t want you to think i’m taking advantage of you or— or not respecting you and i want you to know how serious i’m taking this relationship and—”

you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you, your voice sweet and soft. “who said that? i don’t think that at all yu, and i know you’re serious about us.. i wouldn’t be sitting on this counter with my tits out if you weren’t.”

yuta laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you don’t wanna fuck me?” you whispered lewdly.

“trust me i do—”

“you don’t wanna see what kind of panties i have on under?” you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck. “you don’t want to maybe guess the color of my underwear?”

“oh i don’t have to guess baby,” he shook his head and grinned. “i know.”

yuta buried his face in your hair and inhaled, “has this been your plan all along pretty? to be a little slut for me and show off what you got going on down there?” he snapped his bulge back on your pussy so roughly that you jolted up by the sheer force. “to get me to fuck you? hm?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t respond by the way he was running and groping his hands deliciously all over your body as he spoke nasty to you. all you could do was moan stupidly.

“lucky for you, i’m just as guilty.”

he pulled your straps back over your shoulders then while sliding you off the counter, tugging the hem of your dress down over your ass before opening the door and leading you by the hand outside.

yuta ran through the halls opening and closing doors again, the both of you laughing when you would find other people fucking or making out, until he finally found an open vacant room with a bed and slammed the door closed, locking it.

his lips smashed against yours without another moment wasted, you unzipping and pulling your dress up and over yourself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it fuck knows where.

pushing you down gently on the bed, yuta took a step back to admire your perfect perfect body, the way your tits bounced with every movement you made, and the way that god forsaken lacy black underwear made you look as he just stood there and stared.

you cowered a little under his gaze, legs closing and arms crossing over your chest. “what?”

he shook his head. “i love you… so much.”

you smiled bright then, pearly whites on display as you watched him reach down and fumble with his belt frantically, sliding it off and pushing his pants down before kicking them away and hovering over you until you were both entirely bare.

yuta pressed honeyed wet kisses all the way down your body and in between your legs, shoving his face to your clothed pussy and inhaling your sweet scent, moaning as he did so.

he was so freakishly hard as he licked a long stripe up, the fabric rough and wet under his tongue as you squirmed and whined, impatient and bratty.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he groaned, pulling your panties to the side and spitting on your clit, his index finger running delicately and slowly over your meaty slimy folds.

“fuck—” you panted, carding your fingers through his hair. “more please—”

“more?” he hummed, watching at the way you shook and shivered with his every touch as he slobbered all over your pussy like a man starved.

it was so filthy, squelching and sloshes of his mean mouth bullying your clit as your fingers flew to grip the sheets beneath you.

“eek!” you squealed, your thighs closing tight around his head as he ate, his hands coming up to force them apart.

“let me eat.”

yuta gripped the fat of your plushy thighs as his sloppy tongue moved across your lips and pussy, coaxing your syrupy cunt to pulse and jump with each lick, a knot forming at the pit of your tummy.

“i— yu, i can’t—” you tried to run away from his mouth. “i’m gonna cum—”

but he only grabbed your hips and brought you back down roughly, his rolling tongue lapping up your juices before your entire body shook with erotic ecstasy, your thighs clamping shut as you squealed and creamed on his tongue.

“fuuuucckkk,” he dragged out, coming back up and sliding your absolutely drenched and ruined panties down your shaking legs, his mouth coated and shiny and covered in you.

yuta pumped his cock a few times, and that’s when you noticed just how big he was, packing a meaty punch that had your mouth watering and desperate.

you spread your legs again as he climbed over you, sliding his dick in between your messy sticky folds before lining his fat tip against your hole.

god, yuta’s body and dick were on fucking fire, his tip slowly nudging and slightly stretching you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips at the feeling of your perfect pussy that was entirely his to fuck, a dream he’s had and yearned over for what feels like an eternity.

“m’gonna put it in,” he choked, licking his lips as he tightly gripped your waist.

you eagerly nodded, spreading your legs even wider. “please, i want you to fill me up, yu.”

and with that, yuta slowly and deliciously stretched your little cunt open, his swollen dick pushing past your tight squeezing gummy walls until he bottomed out.

“f—fuck,” he swallowed thickly. “you gotta loosen up baby you’re milking me—”

your hands gripped at his arms for support as yuta gently pumped his cock, your pussy sucking him up like a yummy lollipop and trapping him inside. “i can’t yu…” you shook your head. “you’re too big—”

his glassy eyes darkened over at your words, and he picked up a brutal pace almost instantly.

“is this— hah— what you wanted?” he reached out and pinched your rosy cheek meanly, pounding into your puffy walls as you cried dumbly. “to fuck you dumb on my dick after teasing me like that downstairs? huh?”

your eyes squeezed shut, loud pornographic moans tumbling out of your throat as he fucked you like he hated you, your tits bouncing with every hit.

a series of pat pat pat’s bounced all over the walls as yuta buried his face into your neck, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he shoved his dick inside of you over and over and over again.

“i can— hah— barely move you’re sucking me, baby.” yuta hiccuped, his eyes welling with feral tears.

it felt good, way too good and he could hardly handle it, his heart racing against his chest as he watched you make slutty faces that only fueled his erotic agony.

he fucked you full into the mattress, setting an animalistic pace as the headboard hit against the wall repeatedly.

“s—slow down, yu!” you whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way his tip hit your cervix without mercy, you on the verge of cumming and creaming all over his dick.

“no—” he shook his head and looked at you, your sweaty hot bodies sticking together. “m’sorry pretty i c—can’t—”

yuta hiccuped and whined and cried at the way your greedy pussy was milking him for all of his worth, his abs tensing at the familiar feeling of his release. the amount of times yuta fisted his cock to the thought of you like a pervert, just like this, spread out and pretty, didn’t even come close or compare to the real thing laying in front of him right now.

“m’gonna pull out, okay?” he muttered. “gonna cum—“

“nuh uh!” you whined, wrapping your thighs tightly around his waist to keep him inside, your arms clutching his brooding shoulders. “i want you to dump it inside of me.”

“i— inside?!” he swallowed.

you nodded and smiled sweetly at him through your fucked out expression and puffy pouty lips, a sight he never ever wanted to forget in his life and keep the privilege of looking at every day, just for him.

yuta groaned again and shoved his face back into your neck, squishing your tits in his hands and holding on to them for dear life as you milked his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours and you whimpering at how deliciously rough he was.

“mm— fuck!” you squealed as you felt yuta’s hot ropey cum shoot up your walls, bucket loads of it filling you to the brim as you felt your own orgasm wash over you, his hand pressing down against your lower tummy as he hiccuped against your neck.

you both grabbed on to each other as you tried to come down from your highs, your skin sticky and hot as his steamy breath fanned over your ear shakily, the booming of music downstairs shaking the walls a little and the sounds of footsteps walking down the halls filling your ears.

yuta gently peeled himself from you and slowly, delicately— pulled his dick out, his pupils dilating at the sight of his milky cum oozing out of you sluggishly.

his dizzy eyes flickered over to your dazed and tired face, smiling softly. “are you okay baby?”

you closed your eyes as he leaned down and brushed some of your hair away from your eyes, laughing a little. “yeah.”

“wait here—” he whispered before getting off the bed and walking over to what he assumed was the bathroom, retrieving a random towel.

coming back over, he tenderly spread your legs and cleaned you up, rubbing soothing circles into your ankles with his thumbs as he did so before plopping back down on the bed next to you, pulling you softly into his arms.

that was the first time you both had sex together, and as the fact registered into your head, you buried your face into his bare chest shyly.

“hm?” yuta looked down at you. “what, baby?”

“you’ve seen me naked now,” you muttered, voice faintly muffled.

he giggled lowly. “you’ve seen me naked now too.”

“your dick is big,” you leaned back a bit. “i can’t believe you’ve been keeping that thing hostage from me.”

yuta choked at your blunt statement and shook his head. “i’ve always wanted this baby, believe me.” he kissed your forehead and nuzzled his face into your neck. “i just didn’t want to disrespect you pretty so i just didn’t know if you wanted it like i did.”

“but i do—”

he laughed again, “i know you do, now i do.”

you smiled sheepishly as yuta caressed your back with his fingertips lovingly, feeling like he was at the gates of heaven with you in his arms after having shared something so intimate like that for the first time, something he only lived in his sleepy dreams prior to this moment.

“i love you, yu.” you mumbled against his chest, and his heart absolutely melted as he captured your lips in a sweet sweet kiss.

oh how he loved you, and the sight of your gorgeous naked body next to him, your breathtaking unreal face looking at him and only him with those eyes—

was something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

taglist <3: @turtlesaee @heretoreadfics