#actually angel was so right to add that on the end

[cybsoo2]

sick to my stomach

╰┈➤ synopsis — The sun has long since burnt out, but inside Beomgyu's room, his fever is burning up. Won't an angel come and take care of him?

╰┈➤ pairing —beomgyu x reader (feat. soobin)

╰┈➤ word count — 5.1k

╰┈➤ content warning — sick!fic, vomiting, angst, playful jealousy, pain & suffering

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; sorry i lowkey died. here's a fic for your forgiveness 🫶🏻 inspo from that one soogyu incident. ALSO, i think it's ironic that right as i'm finishing writing this i get food poisoning 💀

As the sun sets, so do the shadows on Beomgyu’s face. The colour slowly fading from his flesh. His skin has long lost its warmth. Now, a cold chill takes over his bones. Lips no longer pink, but now pale and bloody. A bad habit of biting down whenever the pain becomes too much. 

This stomach bug is slowly killing him. 

How did it happen? Was it the winter chill that crept through his window? Tip-toeing through his room, quiet and unassuming. Slow and steady was the sickness. Beomgyu didn’t even notice until he was blinded by the fever. Coughing up a lung as he crawled into bed to retreat. It’s where he’s been resting for hours already. Brain fuzzy and feverish, he barely noticed the sun falling from the sky. The shadows smother his room and replicate his mood. Stuck fading in and out of sleep, he also happens to be unaware of the multiple missed calls lighting up his phone. 

The plans he had with you and Soobin are long lost in the back of his mind. This fever has made him forgetful and calling to cancel wasn’t his main focus. He only remembers his previous plans when he hears your voice calling out into the empty house. 

“Beomgyu?” You sound so happy, so excited for your plans he has to ruin. Immediately, he’s run over with regret. The very least he could do is not burden you with his sickness. But now you’re wandering up to his room, bound to be disappointed at what you’ll find waiting for you. 

“Soobin’s on his way, I think we’ll end up taking his car.” He can hear your footsteps going up the stairs. Getting closer and closer to his quiet room. “Beomgyu?...” The silence is unsettling. You stop for a moment on the stairs, listening intently for any sign that he’s actually alive. Only now do you begin to grow concerned at his lack of response. The silence drags out, each second adds to the anxiety eating away at your stomach. It spirals from there, confused thoughts clutter your mind. It’s so hard to think straight, the worry will only disappear when you see him for yourself. So you continue up the stairs, tentative and unaware of what to expect. 

When you open the door to his room, a ray of light streams in from the entrance. It hits Beomgyu in the eyes and he has to blink a few times to readjust. In his hazy vision, he can see the outline of you in the doorway. Is he hallucinating? You look just like an angel. A halo of light illuminates your features. Concern and confusion make-up your expression. 

Beomgyu looks like the exact opposite. His eyes are glassy as they gaze up at you. Swollen from sleep, he struggles to open them all the way. In his iris, you can see how sick he really is. The stray tear trails down his face and you reach out to wipe it away. His cheeks are already a rising red colour. They’re warm in your palms and he chases your touch. Your hands, so cold in contrast. It calms his burning fever and he lets his eyes fall shut. For a brief moment, time is frozen. Your touch is like snowflakes on his skin. The words you speak softly like the winter wind. His room has become like heaven. Just his angel and him, and for this small second, he forgets about the pain that plagues him. 

While Beomgyu is distracted, you take the time to look over his condition. His body’s temperature is rising; Skin glistening with sweat, the damp sheets, and bangs that stick to his forehead. You brush back the strands of hair and place your palm to his forehead. 

“Shit—You’re burning up.” Worry weighs heavy in your chest. It squeezes your heart and stirs up a stomachache. “How long have you been like this?” You ask softly while staring into his eyes. Your hands run through his damp hair, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. 

He turns to look up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. “A while.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he thinks back to when the fever struck. “I woke up already feeling sick, but I guess it got worse around noon.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve gotten here earlier.” Your voice is deep with distress. It’s eating at you from the inside out. Slowing chipping away at the cavity in your chest. Sinking in its vampire teeth and filling you with venom. 

It’s so out of character to see the usually outgoing guy act so quiet. To see him almost on the edge of tears is startling to say the least. This sickness has stolen his heart and left him to rot. 

“You know I hate to see you hurting like this.” You whisper into the room. There’s a touch of vulnerability in your voice. The words are spoken so softly, as if you might cry if you try to talk any louder.

Beomgyu turns to look at you. All his attention on the sound of your concern. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. But now that I’m here, let me try to help you.” You offer him a small smile. One that says, ‘Anything you need, I’ll be here for you.’

“Do you know your temperature?” You ask.

“No,” he groans, leaning more into your arms. “I didn’t think to check.” His voice is hoarse. Sore from the sickness, he tries to speak softly, almost in a whisper. You have to lean in closer to hear what he says.

“Okay well, I’ll go get the thermometer. I should also call Soobin to tell him you’re sick. Maybe he could even pick up some soup for you.” You say while grabbing your phone from your back pocket. You dial the ten digits and then Soobin’s speaking through the phone.

“Hey, Beomgyu’s sick so we won’t be able to hangout like we planned.” You say while attempting to sit up, but a certain someone stops you. Untangling yourself from Beomgyu and taking away his only source of comfort. He whines when you pull away but you try to ignore it and focus on what Soobin is saying. You cover the phone with your other hand and bring it down to your chest, trying to muffle the conversation.

“I’ll be right back.” You say and start to stand up again. But Beomgyu's sudden grip on your wrist says otherwise.

“No, don’t leave.” He looks up at you through half-lidded eyes. He’s almost on the edge of falling asleep, but the sudden scare of you abandoning him leaves him restless and awake. Alone in this empty room, far away from your warmth and missing your embrace.

“I’m just gonna grab the thermometer. I’ll only be a minute.” You try to reassure him. 

He doesn’t appear to be persuaded as his grip only tightens. Soft and slender, he uses his other hand to wrap around your wrist. Tugging at your arm, he tries to get you to stay with him. Using all his strength, he barely even makes you stumble. It worries you how weak he is. Plagued by pain, insomnia, and a rising heat, you can’t help but pity him.

You let out a soft sigh. Your heart truly hurts for him. Reaching out, you run your hands through his hair. A slight distraction to sooth him. Beomgyu closes his eyes at the feeling, slowly falling faster to sleep. Shhh. You hush his worries. Him, slowly succumbing to sleep after making you promise to come back quickly. Only then can you take the time to step away and finish talking to Soobin.

You don’t stray too far, only walking off into the bathroom in search of the thermometer, medicine and a quiet place to talk. You rummage through the cabinets in a rush. Eye-brows furrowed and growing frustrated. The thermometer you found tucked away in a drawer, but you can’t seem to find any medicine at all. “Maybe pick up some medicine while you’re at the store, I can’t find anything here.” You say to Soobin, voice laced with frustration. 

“Got it! What type should I get?” Soobin sounds upbeat despite the situation. Always happy to help, he’d do anything for his members.

“His fever’s pretty high,” You sit down on the edge of the bathtub and sigh. “Sounds like he has a sore throat too. Probably just get him some Advil and cough drops.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 20 then.” His voice rings into the room.

You sigh in relief, one less thing to worry about. “Thanks so much Soobin, I’ll see you soon. Bye.” You hang up the phone and tuck it back in your pocket. 

When you go to check back on Beomgyu, he’s just as you left him– fast asleep and still as sick as before. You stick the thermometer in his mouth that hangs slightly open– soft snores escaping it. He only startles a bit, shutting his mouth around the object and shifting slightly. But otherwise, he doesn’t wake. Long lost to the cycle of sleep. There’s use in waking him, he could probably use the rest. He looks so peaceful like this. Sound asleep and buried beneath all the blankets. 

The chills seem to come and go. It’s like a wave that rolls in– soaking him in a cold sweat, then the sun appears to bring back the heat. His body can’t seem to regulate his temperature. You’ve learned over the years (after one too many unfortunate fevers) that a wet rag would help. After running to grab one, you place it on Beomgyu’s forehead. Other than this there’s nothing else you can do while he’s asleep. The thermometer finally beeps, letting you know it’s time to check his temperature. You pull it out of Beomgyu’s mouth and– Shit. 102.9, it’s pretty high. What he needs is medicine and some proper sleep. Soobin should be arriving soon, and then you should get started on making him something to eat as well. With one last look at him, you kiss his forehead and head downstairs to wait for Soobin’s arrival.

It didn’t take long for Soobin to arrive. When he got there, the conversation was quick. A few words exchanged, a short trip up to check on a still sleeping Beomgyu, and a promise to reschedule your plans whenever he gets better. After that, your attention was drawn to getting started on the soup. Maybe making him something to drink– and a few snacks too. He needs something light and easy on the stomach. You’re so focused on gathering the ingredients and stirring the soup that you don’t even notice the man sneaking up on you until he speaks. 

“Liar,” Beomgyu spits, betrayal in his tone. 

You spin around at the sound of his voice. Still rough from the cold, and slightly raspy since he just woke up. It’s a bit of a surprise to see him, you expected him to sleep a lot longer. 

“What do you mean?” You ask. “And what are you doing up? You should be laying down upstairs. Resting.” Your concern quickly overtakes your curiosity.  

Beomgyu ignores you and continues on,“You said you would be right back, but then you left.” He says with a sulk. All the while sinking down into the seat at the table. He lays his head on the wood top, watching you. 

“Oh,” You let out a scoff and smile in relief. “I thought I did something serious.”

“It is serious!” He tries to shout. His voice so strained that it comes up as more of a whisper. “You already promised you’d stay and take care of me, it’s too late to back out. And now you’re off having fun and hanging out with Soobin while I was upstairs suffering. Talk about betrayal,” He grumbles. 

You can’t help but try to bite back a smile at Beomgyu’s petty attitude. You just ignore his eyes on you and continue to stir the soup– it’s almost ready. “He only stopped by to drop off the soup and some medicine. We really didn’t talk for long.” Turning your head to look at him with a small smirk, you then say, “And how would you know what we were doing anyways. You were asleep.”

“I can assume.” Beomgyu mutters under his breath. “I don’t need Soobin stealing my girlfriend away from me when I’m at my weakest.” 

“No ones stealing me away. Just focus on getting better and don’t worry about anything else.” You walk over to him and hand him a bowl. It’s filled with berries, the blue and red ones that are his favourite. Something to snack on while you finish the soup. 

“Okay,” He sighs softly, accepting defeat to the playful argument. He takes the bowl and pops a berry in his mouth. He doesn’t have the energy to continue teasing you. Talking is growing tiresome. His throat aches and his thirst is insatiable. His chatter-box is beginning to break, slowly succumbing to the sickness like the rest of his rotting body.

Instead, he observes you. Following your movements like he’s watching a movie. It’s obvious he’s still tired. Eyes blinking slowly, lazy movements, and a quiet voice. He said he can’t get much sleep. Drifting in and out of dreamland, finally falling asleep only to wake up an hour later. 

After he eats, you’ll make sure he sleeps. The shadows are closing in and the sky is growing darker. The odd star shines through the navy night, and the moon will join them very soon. What little light the day still offers shines through the window. It illuminates a small corner of the kitchen– the one where Beomgyu sits now. 

You walk over to him– a warm bowl of soup held in each hand. Beomgyu can smell it from where he sits. The savoury scent makes his mouth water. He hasn’t eaten all day and he’s eager to have it all. But despite his hunger, his stomach stirs with nausea. 

As if you can read the hesitance on his face, you smile at him with encouragement and say, “Just eat what you can. We can always save the rest for later.” Beomgyu nods and takes the first bite. Then another and another, until almost the entire bowl is finished. 

You let out a laugh, “Slow down, don’t force yourself. Eating too fast will only upset your stomach.”

“It’s really good. Thank you.” He truly means it. He appreciates you staying by his side despite everything. Shouldering his burdens and sharing his troubles. His soul shines through his eyes, an amber colour in the light. And through his iris, it’s clear to see that he’s lovesick for you.

Although, the love only lasts for so long. “Well you don’t have to thank me, thank Soobin. He’s the one who bought it.” Beomgyu’s face immediately wrinkles in disgust. You can’t help but let a small smile slip at his expression. 

“Okay, well if you’re done we can head up to bed.” Sitting up from the table, you take away his empty dishes to put in the sink. You’ll deal with them tomorrow.

“You’ll stay with me right?” Beomgyu grabs the hem of your sweater as you pass by. You stop still and look down at him with a tired smile. “Of course, I’m getting pretty tired too.” 

You both make your way upstairs in a sleepy state. Tangled closely to one another and holding on tight. Not sure which limb is whose and where you begin and he ends. You stumble through a nighttime routine. Changing quickly then crawling into bed. Although that’s not before you remember to grab an Advil and wet rag. Placing it upon his forehead and giving him the tiny pill. It’s easy to drift off into sleep after that. The warmth you two emit, wrapped around each other and bundled in the blankets, chases off the winter chill. The darkness creeps into the room, closing your eyes, and dragging you off deep in a dream.

When you first wake, it isn’t by choice. Confused and still clinging onto sleep, it’s hard to think straight. You can’t see anything in the dark, but you can feel the frosty air that snuck in through the open window. The cold chill bites at your skin. It leaves you with red marks, frostbite nipping at your nose and numbing your hands. You can’t shake the shiver that runs up your spine. If you don’t shut the window, then you might end up just as sick as Beomgyu. 

You try to sit up, but the warmth of the bed brings you back down. The sheets tied around your legs, handprints sinking into the mattress, and a certain boy that pulls you closer. 

Every part of Beomgyu is tangled up in you. He’s wrapped up in your warm embrace. His hand bunches up the fabric of your shirt. His grip is tense, as if he’s desperately trying to get closer. He’s chasing after your heat. Your bleeding heart that pumps blood– hot and heavy. He craves your warmth and needs your love (The only two things that’ll end this sickness).

It’s not a want, but a need. You can hear it in the way his teeth chatter. Milk bone biting back a chill. You can feel how he shivers. Shaking like a leaf while in your arms. 

You try to open your eyes in the dark, fighting off the shadows to see what’s wrong. Beomgyu has a look of pain etched into his skin. A strike of worry hits you in the heart. You try to take a closer look, untangling yourself from the tight grip he has around you. With your free hand, you brush back the bangs that cast shadows on his skin. Your other hand carefully cradles the back of his head, turning his sleeping face away from where it hides burrowed into your shoulder, and up to look at you instead. 

His pale skin reflects the moonlight. It shines with sweat and when you glance down, you can see that he’s sweat through his shirt too. His fever has only seemed to have risen, growing more angry and ruthless than before. To check your suspicions, you gently cup his cheek in your hand. A quiet gasp leaves your lips. He’s hot to the touch.

The medicine mustn’t have been enough. And the wet rag, now fallen and forgotten on the floor, has long grown warm. You immediately sit up, now wide awake and full of worry. 

Even in his sleep Beomgyu can sense you slipping away. He shifts over to your side of the bed. His hand outstretched, trying to chase your ghost. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he can’t find you. A sad look falls upon your face and you take his hand without thinking twice. Rubbing circles along his skin– slow and rhythmic. His subconscious responds, squeezing your hand tight and not letting go. 

As you look down at the sorry sight of your boyfriend, you try to decide whether to wake him or not. Should you just let him sleep a little while longer? Let him live off in a dream, distant and unaware. His mind separate from the suffering his body endures. Although you don’t really want to disturb him, it’d probably be better to. Changing the sheets, giving him more medicine– it’ll all help to bring his fever down. So you lean in close and speak softly to him, “Beomgyu.” Your voice sweet as sugar. “Baby, wake up.” You rub up and down his arm so as not to startle him. 

Beomgyu begins to wake at the movement. Tired eyes still heavy with sleep. Dreams of you and him still dancing in his head. His peace is now replaced with pain and he whines at the feeling of being awoken. 

“Shhh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Your hand slides down to stroke his back. It settles a chill and brings back the heat in his bones. 

Now slightly more awake, Beomgyu looks to you for the reason he’s awake. In your iris is a sea of grief. The dark sorrow swimming in your eyes, draining their colour and painting them gray. 

You hesitate before speaking, “Your fever hasn’t seemed to have gone down. I’m gonna go grab you some more Advil– hopefully that works.” You glance down at the bed, avoiding his eyes. “I should probably change the sheets too. You sweat right through them.” 

It’s only now that you mention it does he start to notice the heat that’s scorching his skin. The pain hits him all at once. His skin, sticky with sweat. Clothes stuck like a second skin and cold from the icy air. A headache drives it’s way through his skull. The pressure building right between his eyes. 

Emotions overwhelmed, he begins to tear up. Red-rimmed eyes and crystal tears, he’s pretty when he cries. But the sad sight still hits your heartstring and sweet nothings start to leave your lips. 

“I know, I know it hurts. I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this.” You pause for a moment, swallowing down the sympathy that’s stuck in your throat. This new wave of worry makes it hard to talk. You even find that you have to take the time to fight back your own tears. “I’ll be right back.”

Beomgyu can’t find his words. Too tired to talk, he just lets out a low groan. He can feel you slipping away from him. Detangling yourself from the sheets and leaving his arms. His hand still holds yours and he only lets go at the last moment. 

He sees you reach down and grab the wet cloth off the floor. Then he’s watching you walk away through blurry vision. 

You aren’t gone for long, rushing to grab everything Beomgyu needs with no time to spare. But by the time you get back, the cold air has already reached him. Goosebumps litter his skin, his hair stands on end. He’s constantly switching between cold chills and a scorching heat. Too hot for a sweater, but too cold to be left alone.  

It’s only a mere minute before you’re back by Beomgyu’s side. Sliding into bed while he’s pulling you close. He sits up a bit once he sees the pills in the palm of your hand. Two red tablets, the type that’s easy to swallow without an after-taste. He drinks them down with the water you’ve given him. He’s greedy with the way he takes it all. The cool liquid soothing his thirst and calming the heat. He downs the whole glass then goes to hand it back to you. 

You quickly put the empty glass on the bedside table, then turn back over to face him. “Go back to bed.” You softly push his head back onto the pillow. Your fingers run through his hair, pushing it out of the way to place the wet cloth back on his forehead. “Try to get as much rest as you can. Just wake me up if you need anything.” He only huffs in response, too lazy to talk and already falling fast asleep. Once you see his body relax and eyes slowly shut, only then can you go to sleep without any worries weighing you down.

The rest of the night is a hazy collection of heatstroke. Beomgyu can’t remember anything too clearly, but he knows you never left his side.

When he’d start throwing up in the middle of the night, you’d rub his back and soothe the sickness.  

The lights dimmed down so as not to agitate his headache. The lightbulb flickers overhead. It illuminates the tears that trail down his face. They leave angry red lines that run down from his eyes to his lips.  

A sharp pain shoots through his stomach. It’s a constant pain that cuts up his insides. He’s emptied out everything he’s eaten, but the stomachache still stays. His head hangs over the toilet, forehead resting on his arm. The nausea is always sudden to strike, the slightest movement setting it off. Although his body aches and he’s throwing up till it’s acid, you being there helps. The way you rub up and down his back is like an anchor. Something to steady him, a soothing rhythm. 

Your own head rests against Beomgyu’s nape. Still fighting off the remnants of sleep. Your whole body shaken at being awoken so suddenly by Beomgyu rushing to the bathroom. The quiet room and winter air threaten to drag you back to sleep, but you blink back the feelings. You’re here to focus on comforting the boy beside you. Even if you can’t do much to stop the sickness, just your presence is enough to bring some solace. 

Your fingertips trace up along his spine. He can feel your touch through his shirt and he shivers at the feeling. Your warmth melts through the fabric and Beomgyu feels bare in front of you. He’s at his most sensitive and exposed, all for you to see. Yet, you accept him with open arms, and he couldn’t be anymore grateful.

When all the movement makes him dizzy, you’d hand him aspirins and water to wash it down. 

The cup chilled from the frozen air. The heat of his hands leave fingerprints along the glass. He downs the drink in a second, starving for something to help his aching throat. It hurts to take a breath or even try to talk. Everytime a sentence scratches its way out from under his tongue, you shush him almost instantly. Sweet whispers of ‘Don’t talk’ and ‘I know what you’re trying to say’ are spoken. There’s no need for him to talk when you already know him so well. The next minute you’re handing him cough drops to soothe his sore throat. 

Beomgyu pouts, they’re the bitter ones. The fake grape flavor that makes him sick to his stomach. He hates how they taste and refuses to eat them. But the next thing he knows he’s backtracking his words and you’re coaxing them down his throat with a kiss. You always taste so sweet, like strawberries at sunrise. He doesn’t even realize he’s swallowed them down like pills until you’re pulling back and he’s chasing you for more. Softly biting down on your bottom lip, his hands begin to wander. In the bathroom, dimly lit and at dawn, all his pain has run away. He can’t focus on anything other than your lips and how his heartbeat pounds in his chest. But Beomgyu is still sick and you’re pulling back to say, “If I kiss you anymore I’ll end up just as sick as you.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” He looks up into your eyes. It’s an endearing sight to see, his pink cheeks flushed and lips red from your attack. But the image of pain still peeks through, his eyes shine with tears that gather at the waterline. You let out a soft laugh, wiping away the tears before they fall. “Are you sure about that? Cause you don’t look to be doing so well.”

Beomgyu grabs your hand and holds it to his face. All he can do is whisper without it hurting, “But I’d take care of you. Just like you’re looking after me. Then it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

A soft smile pulls at your lips. Your heart hums a tune of tender delight. Heartstrings strumming a soft symphony of love and adoration.“I don’t doubt that you’d take care of me well, but let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point. Let’s focus on you first, the one who’s actually sick.” 

Beomgyu lets out a huff at the reminder of his illness. Even just the words washing over him is enough for the pain to multiply. His attention back on the aches that run along his body, the heat that makes his shirt stick to his skin, and the fatigue that takes away his focus. 

He looks exhausted. Eye bags beginning to appear. Pink that’ll turn to purple if he can’t catch anymore sleep. “Come on,” You sigh at the sight of him. “Let’s get you to bed.”  You grab his arm and guide him out of the bathroom. 

Bits are pieces like this are all he remembers before the fever breaks.

It’s early in the morning. The sun begins to rise, bringing with it a rare warmth. The heat melts the snow and if for only a moment, winter’s wrath has begun to subside. 

Beomgyu wakes up feeling slightly better than before. His headache has lessened, only a dull ache remains. His limbs no longer feel heavy with fatigue, instead he’s weightless and well rested. The sun is shining on his face, the bright light waking him up. Beomgyu blinks back the remnants of sleep and lets out a yawn. 

Spring is blooming. A flower bud that shoots up from the snow. It’s a gentle blossom, one that’s so unlike yesterday's snow storm. The smell of flowers and the sun’s warm touch has begun to snuff out the sickness. Although nothing can compare to the real warmth right across from him. Beomgyu opens his eyes and sees you. You’re still asleep, slumbering off in a distant dream. You must have moved in your sleep, because your hair is sticking up in all directions and you’ve left his arms in the middle of the night.

Beomgyu reaches over, grabbing your arm to try and pull you closer. Right when he touches you, he can already tell something is wrong. You’re hot to the touch, a blistering heat that burns straight through your skin. Concern immediately overtakes him. Gently, he puts his palm to your forehead to check your temperature. Just as he thought, you’re running a fever. 

It’s most likely his own fault. If he didn’t kiss you so carelessly– kept asking for more, then you probably wouldn’t end up sick. Although, he can’t lie and say that he’s sorry. Having you stuck with him until the sickness dies down is like a cruel dream. Wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing your warmth and waiting till the days go by. Sleeping in a bed made for two, twisted in the sheets and talking for hours. And even when it’s the worst of it– the chills and the aches, the sick stomach and the burning heat. You don’t need to worry, because he’ll take care of you. Just like he promised.

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved

[ahollowgrave]

-- it feels better biting down.

see also:

Selenite: Go fuck yourself. Sulfur: Fuck me yourself, coward.

Also an additional shot of Selenite's expression because I love how done she looks:

[ruvviks]

obscura is fun because i can be a freak with it. because it's supposed to be an insanely dark and fucked up universe

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), dom!xavier (and a very sub!reader), slight power dynamics, nothing too extreme but xavier is a little mean here, slight themes of possession and jealousy (ft. jeremiah mention like... once), sensory play (blindfold), light bondage, biting, marking, teasing, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, heavy petting, nipple play, clit play, fingering, rough sex, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel". lmk if i missed any tags! ((unedited!))

wc : 4.1k (...yeah... of pure filth actually...)

an : as usual, very self-indulgent on the part of yours truly !! inspired by "red lights" (and yes, as always, listening to the song adds to the vibes) and our very beloved "no restraint" trailer, but it doesn't actually reference the pv so this is entirely separate <3

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @star-anons-blog @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Focus on me, angel."

Quiet words against your skin.

Your chest heaved, breathing heavy, wrists bound tightly together against the bedpost—his fingers grazed over your cheek in that moment, and the touch was familiar. It was soothing, almost. Like a soft caress that the two of you would often share together, it had your head tilting towards him, leaning into his touch as much as you could help it.

He had you right where he wanted you.

You had no choice but to focus on him.

Just... not in the way that you would have expected to.

Your wrists tugged slightly at the ribbons that restricted you, a small whimper falling from your lips.

You couldn't see.

Every touch against your skin had you jolting, every trail of his fingers on your jawline, down your neck, over your shoulders... All of it felt so heightened. Your vision was shrouded in darkness. The silk that covered your eyes was bound tightly, not a semblance of light could have creeped in from the room that had already been dim from the start. He had you lost in a swirl of the unknown.

And it had been this way for hours on end.

His fingers pulled out of your cunt with a wet schlick, your body writhing as you let out yet another cry.

But he wasn't listening to you.

Instead, he sighed.

"I said," he murmured—and you flinched at the sudden feeling of his breath against the shell of your ear—"focus on me."

His voice dropped an octave lower as he completed his statement, and it was unfair.

"I-I am!" you protested. "It's too much, Xavier, I-I can't... I can't keep holding it, please I just—!"

"Shhh."

The mattress shifted beneath you. His warm hands slid across your bare skin, his body warm next to yours—slow, intentional, precise movements, thumbs digging into your flesh in what could have been considered a sort of massage. It was enough to ease you out of the orgasm you'd almost had, the coil in your stomach loosening as you felt every beat and every flutter of your pussy so wantonly.

And then you felt his head dip down.

In an instant, his lips attached to your neck—

"I know, angel, I know. I have you. Just focus on how it feels."

But you were feeling too much.

Too much, all at once, for all this time, and yet—

It was so hard to resist him.

He knew that.

And it was nearly by instinct how your head tilted, allowing him more access, allowing yourself to feel the way his lips would curl into a little, self-satisfied smile. You didn't need to see him to know it was there; you didn't need to see him to know how it looked like. You knew him well enough.

And you were melting at it.

Gradually he began to explore the rest of your body with featherlight touches, as if to soothe the way he'd been edging you endlessly over the past several minutes. He ghosted over your skin with the tips of his fingers, enough to have goosebumps prickling in their wake; his hands moved up to cup your breasts, inching closer to where he knew you needed him most, but still—only barely touching.

And then you barely had a chance to react, before his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck. The sudden action, a sensation intensified by having your sight so cruelly taken away from you, had you arching your back with a moan.

In the next second his thumbs rubbed over your nipples as he suckled at your skin to leave an array of bruises, a deep chuckle reverberating against you. Slow, rhythmic circles, lithe fingers taking your nub and finding pride in the way they would stiffen and peak under his touch...

You knew that he was watching you.

You knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

And you knew why he was being like this. Relentless teasing, always enough to bring you to the precipice but never allowing you to topple over it... Now, he was taking it slow again, but you were sensitive enough to be reacting to everything.

"Xavier...." you whimpered. Slowly, his hand trailed down over your stomach to rest over your thigh.

"Yes?" he murmured.

A shiver went down your spine at the raspiness in his voice.

"You want me here again?"

He spread your legs without waiting for you to answer, a finger trailing upwards and nearly excruciatingly close—only to trace gentle, feathery shapes into your inner thigh.

You groaned.

"Xavier.... Please! Please just touch me—"

"But I am touching you."

You knew that he was smiling.

"Not like that! Do it... Don't do it so gently! Don't tease me! Stop playing with me!"

He hummed, and his hand inched even closer. You could feel the heat radiating off of the mere proximity, your walls clenching around virtually nothing, your breath hitching with anticipation.

But it never came.

"...I don't know."

You were nearly appalled at how genuinely nonchalant he sounded.

"You know what you've been doing to me all day. Teasing me like that... then giving all that attention to Jeremiah when you should have been looking at me."

"I-I didn't mean to! You know he's only just a friend, you know that I—nngh—!"

He leaned in to pull at your earlobe, taking it between his teeth before letting out a soft laugh at the way your body seemed to squirm in response.

"But... That doesn't change anything. Next time don't talk to him like that when you're wearing such a short skirt." A soft blow against your ear, and he made it clear that he was enjoying the goosebumps that littered over your skin as a result. "Besides... I thought you were too sensitive, since you've been reacting to everything so much. Now, you want... more? You're so greedy..."

You could nearly cry.

You felt his other hand squeeze at your breast to make a point, and you felt him shift ever so slightly—

"You're all sloppy, angel. You've made such a mess. I can see it, how wet you are..."

A pause.

"...Mm. You want me to touch you there, right? Feel my fingers inside you again? You must be really warm, still..."

Again your wrists tugged at your restraints, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the blindfold. Your heart beat so loudly in your chest that you couldn't dream to listen over it for his movements—his words felt so simultaneously innocent as they were dirty, and the calm in his voice did nothing to soften its effects.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Xavier, please!" you begged. And whether intentional or not, you found yourself lifting your hips, pushing against him. It was enough for you to feel the slightest graze of his fingers against your cunt, nearly driving you insane with the way he curled his hand into a fist and have you coat his knuckles in your juices.

Then he let out a hum, and you knew what that meant.

He was watching you.

And he was fascinated.

"Do you like that?" he questioned aloud, and it almost pained you how full of wonder his voice seemed to be. "You really are so sensitive."

Your next moans were swallowed into a kiss as his hand remained placed between your legs, stationary at the perfect distance for you to grind against him. The other continued to knead at your breasts, occasionally pausing to roam over your skin, and he murmured—

"Pretty. You're so pretty when you're needy like this."

You couldn't see him, but you could have sworn that the smirk that was likely on his face was anything but innocent.

Yet, his hands drew away from you, and he laughed.

"Xavier!" you cried out. Your hips lifted, as if to chase that same sensation, your clit throbbing with a need that could have had you thrashing around had you not been tied into place.

"Shhhhh, shhh. Relax... Just relax."

A kiss over your blindfold, this time, had you placated enough to swallow your pleas into what felt to be a choked stob. His lips traced over your eyelids, to the tip of your nose, to your lips once more. And then his kisses began to trail further south. Down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, over the skin of your stomach and past your navel—

Only to stop.

And then he began, again, to kiss upwards.

By the time he'd reached your lips once more, your breath was shaky and erratic, the corners of his mouth turned up in another smile you knew to be one of satisfaction.

Now, the scent of his shampoo, the scent of his skin was heedy in the air, mixing in with your own arousal. The room smelled of lust and desire, and these were the only other grounding sensory details you could latch onto as your head continued to spin. Because he truly, truly had you under his complete control. He could have you bending and writhing under his touch without a second thought, the reins of your pleasure embedded into his every being.

"Xavier.... Xavier, please," you cried. You'd lost count of the number of times his name had fallen from your lips out of sheer desperation. "Please, I'm so empty! I need... I need you, I need something—"

A sharp gasp fell from your lips, effectively cutting you off.

"Something, like... This?"

A single breathless whisper against your ear, before you felt him prod at your entrance and slid slowly, slowly back inside you.

"So, so warm."

His voice was a soothing lull, almost an irony to the way that he was treating you.

All the while, wet noises followed every movement of his fingers as he fucked you slowly—gathering your creamy slick when he pulled out, only to plunge right in with a little hum of wonder that had you keening. Easily, he had your hips bucking into his palm. Your back arched; it was an instinctive reaction to follow the movements of his hand as if you were merely a puppet of his desires—every pump of his finger had you moaning unabashedly, only a slave to the lust that he'd awakened in you.

And with the silk around your eyes still fastened in its place, the darkness surrounding your vision made even the tiniest things feel all the more pleasurable.

You could feel how long and slender his fingers were, reaching so deep inside of you, curling against your sweet spot. You could feel the stretch of your pussy with the scissor of his fingers, a stretch so delicious that the burn of it went straight to your head to have your eyes rolling back.

And it felt so good.

...But as always, he would be so. Excruciatingly. Deliberate.

His ministrations brought you a pleasure so indescribable, yet it wasn't quite enough.

You knew what he was doing. He would bring you back into a patten you'd become familiar with: you would be speared on his fingers relentlessly, at a pace so frustratingly lacking, creaming over his fingers without quite bringing you over the edge.

"Xavier!"

Yet another choked sob to fall from your lips. More tears pricked at your eyes, too, though he would have likely been unaware given the fabric concealing that was concealing them. "Please... Please, faster! Please... I need to cum!"

It was like a trigger.

Immediately at your words, his thumb brushed lightly over your clit before he pulled away, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, angel... I don't want to let you."

The sudden momentary stimulation against your clit had your vision going hazy. You thrashed around desperately as another cry tore fron your lungs, your legs squeezing together tightly— the throbbing in your cunt was becoming absolutely unbearable.

You were so close.

You were so close.

It was slipping away.

"No!" you cried. "Nngh, no, no, please! Please, Xavier! I've been so good for you! Please, please, you have to—I have to—"

This time his other hand moved to tangle into your hair, and he placed another chaste kiss over your lips.

"But... Have you been good? When you've teased me all day? You know... Just now, you've also been begging nonstop, even if I keep telling you not to. I don't know if I should be calling you good."

A pause, and a whimper on your end.

"...But you're pretty. I can give you that."

Another kiss, and another, and another, as your orgasm slowly faded away and you were rendered a panting mess beneath him.

But he wasn't done.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when he opened you up again, fingers delicately tracing your folds, the stimulation enough to make you jump. This time, you didn't have to say anything before his fingers were back inside you, fucking your cunt, squelching noises resounding in the room with how he would plug your hole full with every thrust.

It was humiliating, almost.

All you could do was focus—on the sensation, on the sound, on the way he would whisper soft, loving words into your ears as if he weren't completely ruining you for him in this moment.

"So wet n'messy..."

Your walls fluttered around him, clenching on his fingers—

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah-ah, angel... Again? So soon?"

You heard him sigh as his fingers slipped away from you once more, and your entire body jerked with desperation.

"Xavier!!!" Your chest felt suffocating, sobs of his name falling from your lips. "Xavier! Xavier, why! Why do you keep—Why won't you let me finish!! Xavier, please!!!"

Your wrists felt numb with pain as you struggled against your restraints, and you knew that your face was wet with tears. The blindfold was drenched; you could only keep your eyes squeezed shut, sniffling helplessly.

It was gone again.

You ached; your breathing wild and heavy. You didn't know what to do. He had you utterly ruined.

"You know why, angel. Should I do it again until you understand?" he whispered. His lips fluttered against yours, teasing a kiss.

He wouldn't even give that to you anymore.

"No!" you sobbed. "No more... Xavier, no more! Please... Please, please just make me cum! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I—I won't do it again—"

His fingers glided over your lips this time, and it was almost pathetic how easily your mouth opened in response. The tangy taste of your slick was unmistakable. He slid his fingers into your mouth for you to taste more.

This way, you couldn't speak properly.

There would be no other way to convey your desire, if not to thrash around and have him watch.

Another hum. "I think... Not."

And he would keep doing it.

Your cunt was red and swollen to the point of overstimulation. Your vision blurred; your head felt fuzzy. You were tired.

Every touch, even the slightest brush against your skin—against your clit—had you gasping. You were too hyperaware of everything he was doing. Worse, again, was the fact that you couldn't know of what else he would do to you—couldn't anticipate it.

Another tap against your nub, a pressure enough to flick it slightly, before snaking your hand up your waist to soothe you with another gentle caress.

You were sobbing.

"Mean!" you weeped, "You're so mean, Xavier! So cruel! I can't—I can't anymore! You have to make me cum... You have to!"

It hurt.

It stung.

And you felt him sigh, so used to your pleas at this moment that you wondered if he had gotten so desensitized to them by now.

"So I'm harsh, and cruel?" There was a teasing lilt to the calm of his voice this time, and you choked out a gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press tip against you.

He shifted, and the blindfold was slipped off of your face. Wet with your tears, he discarded the cloth carelessly around his room, and finally, finally, you were able to see him.

The room was dim, but the blue in his eyes remained striking—always an ocean you could drown in, willingly.

Only tonight, that wasn't what he wanted from you.

His hand found its way to your chin, and he tilted it downwards. Just a little, you felt—saw—the tip of his cock press into you.

"Do you want this?" he murmured. He kept your gaze in place, pressing in a little deeper still. But you were aware at how his gaze never strayed away from you. Observing. Attentive. "You feel empty, right, angel? You want me inside you? Maybe I've been too mean to you... I'm sorry... Next time, you shouldn't tease me too much..."

You let out a slow breath.

"Please."

Your voice was shaky.

And he leaned in, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again before his lips met your cheek. In a flutter of movements he kissed your tears away, hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Watch," he said.

His voice was soft, but it was something like a command.

"Watch. And no take-backs."

You didn't have time to react, then.

Once more your gaze was directed towards your pussy, throbbing with a need for attention—and your eyes went wide.

He thrust inside you without a second of warning. The entrance was sudden—unexpected. Filling. Any words you'd been thinking to speak fell immediately to a shocked silence, your mouth falling open in a noiseless moan. And all at once, you were made entirely aware of the stretch of your walls, the length of his cock a slow, frustrating slide until the numbnessmelted away enough for you to feel full.

His weight shifted.

You felt caged between his arms, his breath hitting directly above you, legs slotted between yours. There was space for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and you did—

And he started off slow.

Low grunts as his hips rolled against yours, a thrust so fluid and deep that your figure pressed deeper into the mattress. You groaned in response when he repeated the motions; pulling out only to thrust all the way back in, the slap of his skin against yours a testament.

"Not empty..." he rasped. "Not empty 'nymore. I'm filling you up... So warm and pretty for me, all for me..."

His words made your head spin, but despite the desperation laced into his tone, he refused to pick up the pace. You whined, your hips raising to meet his thrusts as if trying to coax a faster pace, but he didn't listen. Instead, he clicked his tongue—with a mewl on your end, he pinned your hips to the bed, preventing you from moving.

"Xavier!" you protested immediately, feeble attempts to wrestle free from him.

"No."

A harsher tone, as he grinded against you to elicit another choked sob.

"But whyyy! I thought you—you said you—"

You threw your head back at a particularly deep thrust, and again his hand was back on your chin.

"I'll set the pace. Don't move, angel. Or I'll pull out."

Xavier usually wasn't like this.

You couldn't quite tell if he was enjoying your torture, or if he was simply this upset over everything that had happened, but the ache you had all over your body right down to the throbbing of your cunt was too, too much for you to bear.

The way his hair fell over his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrow arched almost menacingly—it brought tears to your eyes once more, and all you wanted to hear from him was another word of reassurance.

For a moment, his eyes softened.

"Don't cry... Don't cry anymore..." He leaned in to nuzzle against your nose, before pressing his lips to yours in a light, gentle kiss. "What do you want, angel? You want me to go harder?"

Feebly, you nodded. At a sharp thrust of his hips, you drew in a sharp breath.

"Like that?"

Another nod.

And this time, he smiled—and it was genuine.

"Okay. Then stay still and let me. You can do that for me, right, angel?"

His hips began to move again, and you were relieved to feel the slight reprieve he was granting you by slowly picking up the pace. Yet again your gaze found the outline of your cunt, zeroing in almost immediately on the way his cock sunk into you and disappeared eagerly into your dripping folds.

He was right.

You were an absolute mess, if the sloppy sounds of sex weren't enough to prove it. The sheets were stained so clearly with your arousal, and the truth was that you didn't quite need him to be rougher with you. Just the mere sensation of being filled up, the friction of his shaft against your gummy walls, was enough to have you arching your back to meet his thrusts.

"Close!" you cried out, desperately rutting against him. "M'close, Xavi, please, please— Let me...!" You saw the smirk on his face, the way his eyes narrowed. Part of you had to wonder if he would pull away again—

But he didn't.

Instead, his hips moved faster, drilling into you in a pace so relentless that your eyes grew wide with shock.

In fact, he didn't stop at all.

He'd haphazardly reached out to yank you free from your bounds, but when you finally reached your peak, it was a crash that had you reeling. A scream of his name and curling of your toes were barely enough to describe it—your vision had gone white, your body fixed into a tremble that almost seemed not to stop. It didn't matter that you had just spilled onto his length, clenching around him with every loud cry that tore from your chest. You were raw, and sore, and used—but that was no longer any of his concern.

He kept his thrusts up.

He would drive you into the mattress, every movement made to slam his hips into yours harder, faster, skin slapping against skin so loudly that the sound of it near-challenged the unintelligible moans that spilled from your lips.

It was torture.

Yet it was so good.

"Ye- es!" you cried out. "Yes, ye—aaanh— y-yes—! Like that! Like tha—hnn—! Xavi— Xavier—!"

You couldn't help but have your eyes roll back into your head, allowing him to grip your waist and steady himself, giving himself the leverage to fuck into you deeper, to stretch you out so deliciously good. He kept your thighs spread apart, nails digging into your skin—and you were so sensitive. Over, and over... he would ram his cock into you and have you filled to the brim with him, never once giving you a second of rest.

And it was everything to watch him lose control just as easily because of that.

"Yeah... Yeah? Like this, angel? Mmh... Taking me so... s-so—hnng— so well, angel, l-look at you..."

Gasps and groans fell uncontrolled from his lips, a mixture between deep rumbles and a more high-pitched whine when you clenched around him just right.

"More... more," he shuddered. "Can't... can't stop, angel, you're so good, I need—need you—No one, haah, no one gets to fuck you like this, all pretty for me to use—"

Clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, skin sheen with sweat. His eyes held a haze of desire you could only ever see from him when he got like this, and it was all barely enough to keep your sanity from tipping over.

You were withering.

His hand moved down to rub against your clit, and the intensity of all of it had your vision going completely blank.

You could barely register anything anymore.

He would pull orgasm after orgasm out from you and you would lose count of it, only vaguely registering the hot stream of white that dripped out of you with how full you were.

"Xavier..."

Your voice was weak and raspy, your hands wrapping around him to pull him into you, against you—anything.

And he groaned against your neck.

"Angel.... one more, please, just— One more. You can give me 'nother. I know you can. Just, nngh—let me fill you up one more time... Gotta mark you all mi— mine— mine—"

He clamored to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Immediately you clawed at his back, a strangled cry of his name leaving your mouth... and he caved.

Yet you knew that this was far from over.

"Mmmhfffuck—! S-so tight, so—ah—!"

The last thing you registered was the desperate shut of his eyes, the near-frozen parting of his lips, and the string of curses formulated into his own moan of raw, unfiltered pleasure.

He was just as long gone as you were.

"Oh, angel... M'not— Not done with you yet at all..."

⁺₊ / an: guys i literally cannot stop thinking about him

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[juleswritesstuff]

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting. 

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ? 

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[actual-changeling]

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

[usedpidemo]

Codependency (Ive Yujin)

On one side, there’s a mansion worthy portrait of you on the wall. On the other, wards and recognitions from numerous governing bodies with your name plastered in remembrance. The public knows more about the brand than the people behind it; that’s how business works. Unless your name happens to be Musk, Bezos, or Zuckerberg.

You’re nowhere near their level of wealth and influence—far from it—yet this entire building’s future rests on your shoulders. It’s not as easy as it looks.

You’ve always credited your guardian angel for keeping you from harm your entire life. It sounds religious, but from personal experience, it’s real. 

She’s guiding you from the secluded corner of your office.

—————

“And that’s how we’ll proceed with operations moving forward,” you say to the executives in the room—except they're not physically there. Their faces are projected on screen, joining from different countries, with some even joining from home. To be quite frank, you understand very little about your own presentation, and had your acting not been Oscar-worthy, there’s more that would appear absurd than believable. “Do we have any questions?”

For the most part, the top brass appear to be in unanimous agreement with everything that has been laid out. Not a single question, complaint, or rebuttal from anyone.

“Well done, officer. You seem to have a complete grasp and understanding of the situation,” says one of the chiefs, his ripe old age showing through his slow, strained tone. 

Another suit, much closer to your age—albeit barely (he’s in his mid-forties)—adds, “We expect an immediate turnaround, otherwise we may have to cut even more of our divisions off. Should this plan fail, we anticipate closure of even more of our departments, including yours.”

It’s not the most concerning thing you’ve heard this week, but it’s definitely up there–at least top three.

Nevertheless, you remain firm and bow to your superiors as you end the meeting. “Thank you sirs. We will do our best.”

As soon as the video call ends, you let out this deep sigh of relief that’s been repressed the entire time. Thank goodness you have an entire building floor and private office to yourself. 

“Well fuck me,” you mutter, seemingly speaking to the void, taking all the deep breaths you need, wiping the sweat across your head with some tissue. “Tell me I followed through on everything, right?”

“Yeah. Apart from mixing a few things, you mostly got it.” Yujin’s voice emerges from the far end of the room, covered in darkness, away from anyone’s view. The papers on your desk aren’t actually documents or paperwork. In reality, they’re pages of a manuscript with a few instructional, handwritten notes attached. It’s not even your own writing; they’re curated by none other than Yujin herself. “I’d say I wouldn’t have noticed, even if they were a little too obvious at times.”

“These conferences are fucking tiresome. Nauseating even,” you reply. Yujin opens up the blinds, and you stagger away from the immediate sunlight piercing through the room. Simply put, you just want to throw up after yapping all that incomprehensible jargon. “You know what—why don’t we switch places next time? I think you’d be better at this than me, like you already are with everything.”

An unusual comment for the director to make to his assistant, but it’s true. Yujin is so good in every department that it’s borderline farcical. She’s incredibly reliable to the point where you’ve basically deferred nearly every task to her, leaving you with the most boring parts of your job, which mostly comprises of company meetings and private calls. She’s a relatively new hire, having worked in your department for a little over a year, yet her rise up the ranks has been nothing short of absurd. 

“Please, let’s not get carried away,” she softly laughs, flashing a lovely smile you never grow tired of seeing—and you see her as soon as you walk into the building till you clock out.  “I’m fine with the research and paperwork. Regardless of what you want to believe, I think you sold it well.”

You slump back in your chair, somewhat bothered at just how unbothered Yujin is. How she’s able to take all your responsibilities that you should be doing, and without protest. One look at her features tells you all you need to know: that she’s happy to work for you. She could easily be in your position right now, putting you through this exact hell. She could be on that screen making those very threats on your job, in fact. Instead, she prefers to be your subordinate.

If that wasn’t enough of an example, she’s gathering the papers on your desk, putting them back together, good as new. Then she brings you a cup of water from the dispenser. She’s enumerating a list of other, just as unintelligible things that may or may not be important to your discussion earlier. Meanwhile, you’ve been sitting in that chair, your thoughts wandering aimlessly, thinking about anything that isn’t work. It’s almost noon, yet your mind just wants to check out for the rest of the day.

“Um—sir? You okay?” Yujin waves a hand right in your face, snapping you from your tired daze.

You tilt up to her gaze, eyes weary. “Yeah. I’m just—tired.”

“Do you want me to leave? I’ll go and sort out the upper management on your behalf if you’re not feeling well.”

“Don’t.” You rise from your seat, telling her, “I’ll take care of it. Go and have lunch,” as you point at your wristwatch, both hands closely pointed at the top.

“You sure? You should go have lunch too,” she replies, showing an alarming amount of concern that it’s almost comical. “Don’t worry about me.”

Shaking your head, you respond, flashing a light grin to reassure her, “I can talk to them at any time. T your break. I’ll call you when I need anything.” 

—————

Truth be told, you didn’t want to see her for the rest of the day, let alone seek her help. 

Yujin is only one call away. After all, she’s your assistant, down to working right outside your office. She’s working on whatever nonsense you’ve assigned her, showing no signs of slowing down. Meanwhile, you can barely call today productive; you’ve only completed two pages of a draft for next week’s presentation. In the time spent between slowly chopping away and stalking her from behind the door, her pretty profile a sight for sore eyes, she’s probably completed this week’s assignments and halfway through the next. She’s that efficient.

Hours pass, until the day finally ends at five. At exactly the top of the hour, she lets herself into your office, her pleasant attitude still in full bloom. “Already completed all the tasks for today. How about you?”

Yujin is not even trying to gloat—not in the slightest—yet it sounds like a punch to the gut. You can only slam your chin flat on the desk in despair, shooting a tired glare at her. She tries to muffle her chuckle, trying to keep herself professional, not realizing you’ve already seen through her facade.

“You want me to help you out? I don’t mind working an hour longer if you need it.” She’s peeking her head over the laptop display, examining for the proof of concept—or lack thereof. “Didn’t I tell you to leave this five plan strategy to me?”

This amount of confidence should leave you battered and deflated. And yet, there’s a sense of relief knowing Yujin will get the job done no matter what you ask of her. It’s enough to turn that frown into a faint, encouraging grin. 

“I guess so,” you tell her, putting down the screen. Getting up from your chair, you close the window blinds and block out the setting sun. “Maybe I’m just tired of deferring all my responsibilities to you, that’s all.”

Her smile looks innocent, demure even, it doesn’t make sense as to how irrevocably kind she is to you. As far as you know, your employees consider you as shrewd and as scummy as your superiors. Forget that you’ve been working here longer; they consider everyone that isn’t their fellow rank a corporate dirtbag who’d step over others the first opportunity they can. It’s a vicious cycle. To have someone like Yujin feels like an anomaly. 

“Don’t worry about it, that’s why I’m getting paid right?” she answers back, pressing her palms on your desk. “Just do what you can and I’ll handle the rest.”

You’re pouring an espresso into a cup, before offering the drink to her. “We should talk, Yujin,” you say, filling up a separate glass with your own. Your fourth shot. “You got a minute or two?” 

“Sure. I always have time for you.” Yujin sits up, taking the drink into her hand, crossing her leg. It’s nearly impossible to look anywhere else but on them. As if she couldn’t be any more perfect, in mind, character, and body. “Is there anything bothering you lately?”

Sitting across her with only a desk separating you, the words never come out. You’ve got plenty on your mind: the messy state of your department, the unreasonable expectations and demands of your superiors, the possibility of losing your job—and Yujin. She’s sitting right there, ready to hear you out, but you never find the conviction to confess your worries. The next few minutes are awkward silence, only broken by the occasional stir of teaspoon and the sip of coffee. It isn’t that she renders you speechless, though one would fairly assume as to why: she’s pleasant to look at, among other things. It also helps that her outfits have been getting skimpier over the past few weeks. Unsurprisingly, you let the flagrant violation of the dress code go unpunished. 

“Sir? Is everything okay?” Yujin leans her head forward, noticing that you’re lost in thought. She places her cup on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows instinctively rise. That glimmer of hope you showed moments ago disappears. What’s left is despair. “I think we might be fucked, Yujin.”

“Fucked? What do you mean by that?”

“We’re fucked. Like, we could be out of a job fucked.”

“Explain?” Yujin cannot comprehend it—then again, anyone else would react the same way. “Didn’t we give the board a five step plan earlier today?”

“We did,” you reply, finally mustering the strength to meet her eyes. “But here’s the thing: we don’t have the financial or human capacity to execute the plan. At least, in the time they demanded.”

“And? We did the research and even the hypotheticals!” You’ve never heard Yujin raise her voice even once—until now. “What could go wrong exactly?”

“They think we can course correct years worth of bad financial decisions in just a few months. That’s the problem. Either way, we’re fucked.”

“I don’t believe you.” Yujin forcefully rises from her seat, threatening to flip the desk. If she only had the strength. “After all the time I spent working on it, you want to wave the white flag and give up?”

You don’t really know how to answer her. At least, in a way that’s remotely graceful and easy to understand. 

“I’m sorry, Yuj, but no matter what—”

“I’m trying—so fucking hard—” she huffs, her fist clenching, trembling violently— “to carry your fucking ass so that we could keep our livelihoods. And not just me or you, but also the hundreds working for us! I know you fucking hate their guts because they’ve said nothing but terrible things about you, and even if none of that is true because I know you better than anyone else in this fucking building, at least have the decency to salvage whatever’s left instead of being a fucking coward for once!”

Yujin doesn’t notice that she’s been outright screaming into your face. You’re taken aback, utterly in disbelief at what she just aired out. If she wasn’t kindness incarnate, she likely would have pulled you by the shirt and choked you till you passed out. She blinks. The realization hits, and she begins to crumble.

“Sorry” is the only thing she can say, in quiet mumbles, slowly falling back onto her chair. Her hands cover the lower half of her face, completely mortified. Her eyes are on the verge of tears before giving out and crying waterfalls. Eventually, she lowers her head out of shame.

Even before entrusting her with such a demanding assignment, you knew there was nothing other than divine intervention that could save your job. This wasn’t what you signed up for, and neither did Yujin. For the most part, this was only to save face. Your face. The board of directors didn’t have any objections after all, and were mostly agreeable with every step of the plan. Either that or their old age is catching up and they hardly understood a thing at all. Like you.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t excuse you from criticism. This is on you, and you should be held accountable. Instead of rightfully performing your part, you weighed down someone else with your burden. It’s the wake-up call you need.

Yujin shouldn’t feel guilty saying all of this and having to apologize. She’s crying on your desk, still softly apologizing between tears, “Sorry—I’m really sorry—” and your heart fucking drops. 

It’s a terrible feeling.

“Yuj, please stop crying,” you mutter, caressing her shoulder. Seeing her look so defeated brings you more distress than anything, including the thought of losing your job. “I should be the one apologizing for putting you through all this. You’re right—”

“I’m so sorry.” She’s still asking for forgiveness, your words mostly going unnoticed. “I just wanted to—”

“You’re right, Yuj. I’m a coward. I’ll admit, I honestly wanted to resign the moment they brought this up. If they couldn’t do a damn thing about it, how else would I know? Seeing you figure out a way made me realize just how much I depend on you to save my ass. I should be the one saying sorry, not you Goddammit, Yuj. What would I do without you, honestly—”

She tilts her head up, her sniffling and sobbing unceasing, resting her head on your chest. “I’m sorry. What I said is still out of pocket and I wasn’t in the position to say—”

“Shush, Yuj. Stop apologizing for being right,” you reply, brushing her hair. “Look. We’ll go forward with your plan. You can write up the whole thing and I’ll present it your way. I won’t muck up in front of the directors, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna quit.”

“Really?” She lifts up her eyes, doe-looking and glimmering.

“Yeah. Might as well go down with a sinking ship, so please stop crying,” you say, smiling. “You made me feel like shit and I don’t like it.”

Yujin laughs. Heartily.

—————

Even though that should havd been enough to appease Yujin, in your eyes, it wasn’t. You had to make it up to her in other ways.

“This place serves really good food,” you tell Yujin, digesting the sights and scents of the relatively small eatery. Meanwhile, Yujin sits beside you, eating to heart’s content without a care. “I can see why you love it.”

“How’d you know this was my favorite place to drop by after work?” she asks, chomping down on the last stick of her barbecue. 

“I have my sources,” you tell her, playfully grinning, unwilling to admit that you’ve been watching from behind your car’s windows for some time now. 

“Don’t tell me it’s Wonyoung, boss.” Yujin pouts, flustered and embarrassed. “I swear to God, I can’t trust anything with—”

“It isn’t her, don’t worry,” you chuckle, amused at her red-faced look. 

“I really appreciate the offer,” she remarks, finishing the remaining half of her drink. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do for my hardworking assistant,” you reply, gesturing to the lone cook for the bill. The charges go up to the hundreds, with most orders belonging to her. While she’s chomping away at the end of a large meal, you secretly foot it on her behalf. How she maintains her figure while consuming this much food, you’ll never know. And when she calls for the tab, she’s told that it has already been paid in full.

“Now you’re just being extra,” she says, facing you, looking insulted by the kind gesture, but in a playful way. Appreciative regardless. “I already told you we’ll pay for what we each ordered.”

Looking at the stack of empty plates on her side—when compared to yours—some part of you believes that to be false. You don’t even have to say anything for her to realize she’s not one to fulfill her own word either.

“Okay—I would have paid 25 percent.”

You can’t place any blame on her. She laughs—at herself. She’s so charming, a pleasure to watch, that you would let her slide, had this not been your intention right from the start.

“Stop.” 

You end up laughing with her too.

—————

“Seriously. Don’t lie, you promise you won’t just suddenly quit on us?” Yujin asks, staring at you as you walk toward your parked vehicles outside the eatery. “This feels like a way to soften the blow.”

Both of you stop right in front of your cars. “Not at all,” you tell her, staring directly into her eyes. “What else do I have to do to prove that I’m not quitting?”

“I don’t know, sir. I mean—you, suddenly asking me to eat out—” she rolls her eyes away, skeptical— “You’ve never done that.”

The cold nighttime air sweeps all over you. Chilly, you rub your arms together, partially regretting the decision to cover Yujin with your coat. She’s relatively unfazed, warm in your garment; even more surprisingly, it fits her perfectly like a glove. 

“I wouldn’t leave if it means I lose you, Yujin.”

It’s not the words you wanted to say. Every part of that sentence leaves your lips effortlessly. A little too effortless.It’s an unconfessed confession, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. Sure, she may interpret it as merely you being codependent on her when it comes to work, but there’s no way there isn’t some kind of other, deeper meaning behind them.

“Lose me? What does that mean?” She asks, even more curious. Of course, Yujin isn’t the brain of your operations for nothing. It isn’t surprising when she figures you out. “You like me, don’t you?”

Just like that, the tables have turned. You can’t deny your feelings any longer.

You gently nod. Perhaps the killing blow could be softer if you find closure, right here, right now.

She leans forward, both of you unable to do anything other than to stare into each other’s deep, longing eyes. The tension between you is the only source of heat in the midst of a cold, lonely night. 

By all accounts, the relationship between you and Yujin is strictly professional. Apart from a few trips abroad, you keep all conversations business related. Mind-numbing, confusing agency jargon. It’s a helpful practice in keeping your space; no matter how attractive she may look and saccharine she may sound, no amount of pleasantry can make company discussion remotely close to entertaining. You’d rather play with the blinds in your office. She’s doing her part too: clock in at nine, clock out at five on the dot. It’s a healthy routine. After hour talks between you are rare. It’s common practice to maintain a firm working relationship. It’s also just common sense. Good organization begins at the top.

Moments like these are strong reminders on why you avoid crossing that line. Yet you don’t stop—not when she’s the one making the first move. 

You kiss. Your lips stay a little longer than they should. The taste lingers. 

You find solace in each other's warmth, in a comforting embrace. She rests her head on your chest, her hands gripping into your shirt tightly. Deep down, you both recognize you’re on borrowed time. Whether through your promotion or your release, you won’t be together for much long. Countless hours spent together, so many occasions—the opportunities are being handed to you on a silver platter, only for you not to take the chance.

Not anymore. You won’t make the same mistake again.

—————

Driving her home was easy; finding your way into your room was half the battle. 

“It took us this long to share a room, huh?” Yujin huffs against your face, finding and capturing your lips even in an erratic, volatile environment. She’s pushing you against the wall, her palms having an iron grip on your cheeks, pulling you close and wildly kissing you. The entire trip up to your apartment floor has been nothing but shaky kisses and clothes slowly scattering from the elevator to your front door.

“We should have done this a long time ago,” you manage to mutter, holding her face away for a brief respite to answer, only to be forced back in once again. Any semblance of professionalism between you is abandoned for fiery, passionate lovemaking, future relationships be damned. 

The most surprising thing is how it isn’t as messy as it may look. See, despite the bite marks on your skin, the wrinkles in your clothes, and the rather loud, unceremonious manner you enter your apartment, you’re still in the process slowly unraveling. There’s a conscious effort to make sure neither side comes out completely in ruins. A silent agreement between you. 

Her hands lay claim to your shirt, threatening to tear you apart if you don’t do the same to her. She lifts her head when you quickly peel through her long skirt; you dive in and make it yours. The crack in her voice as she mewls tickles your ears just right. Slowly spreading her legs wide, pulling the panties down her well defined thighs. In response, she tugs at your shirt, popping a few buttons loose. It isn’t as easy as it looks to have Yujin pinned against the wall; she’s actively fighting, trying to seize back control. If she can’t have her way with you, at the very least she can rein you in. Only now do you realize the danger your little escapede.

With her slender legs wrapped around your waist, you can only do so much. Yujin can’t stop kissing you, leading your gaze to anywhere but her pretty, lust-ridden expressions. She wants this more than you do. Against your desires, you end up in the kitchen, propping her on the bar counter as lipstick covers your entire face. The brief respite when she catches her breath gives you ample time to unbutton the rest of your shirt before tossing it aside—something you don’t give her the decency to finish.

While she’s still staggering, lost in her own thoughts, you take her by the shoulder and leave a fresh mark on her neck. A distraction. More importantly, your fingers feel their way around the back of her dress, find the touch of metal—and yank. The zipper follows, the lengthy garment gradually coming undone, until Yujin pushes the rest of it off her shoulders and to the floor. Your eyes gleam like starlight as her bra reveals itself, taking countless mental snapshots at that moment. 

Not even her attempts to redirect your attention can pull you away. 

You push her down on the marble surface. The bar is big enough to fit you both. Joining her atop the counter, your gaze wanders down her divine figure—and you don’t know where to start. Everything about Yujin is designed to be as perfect as humanly possible. No one should be flawless.

“How can you be any more perfect, Yuj,” you mutter, eyes roaming everywhere, soaking in the immaculate sight before you. “How did I not want you any sooner?”

Yujin’s hand traces down your arm. “You could have just asked. My previous employers did. It was a regular part of the job for me.”

You’re shaking your head. Imagine that—an employer taking advantage of their employee offering themselves without any restraint. You would never—except you already did. Your previous assistant can vouch.

“Don’t feel sorry. I want this just as much as you do,” she adds, pulling you towards her face for a soft kiss, clearing all doubt. “Besides, you’re not that much different from any of them. Why stop now?”

“Not that different? Were they just as codependent on you as I am?”

Nodding in agreement, she laughs. 

“God fucking dammit.” 

You sigh. Yujin continues laughing. What a momentum killer. And the worst part is, it’s self-inflicted and completely avoidable. You should have just kept going, kept her speechless.

Still, it’s not the end of the world. You’re on top of Yujin; she has no intention of leaving you anytime soon. Most importantly, she’s unhooking her bra while you’re caught up in your feelings. “But—there’s one difference: I actually love working for you. I wouldn’t mind letting you use me.”

“You love working for me? Why?”

She’s biting her lip, grabbing you by the back of your head. “You’ll find out yourself. You know what to do.”

“What? How?” The word comes out panicked, desperate.

Yujin shakes her head, the smirk on her lips twisting, wicked. “You know how.”

At first, finding what she means proves to be a struggle. After all, Yujin’s not the mysterious type. She always tells you everything straight, condenses complex conversations into digestible servings for easy consumption. It’s not in her character. Yet, one look at what’s in front of you—her naked frame casually lying beneath yours, her hands running all over your bare self—the realization hits you like lightning, and you’re mentally punching yourself for being so dangerously oblivious.

You kiss her on the lips again. You can’t get enough. You’d happily stay in this position all night long. Except that isn’t what she wants. She wants you to go further. 

So you sink further and further down. The closer you get, the more she opens up. A sloppy trail follows your lips, from her chin, to her collarbones, to her chest and navel, and everything else in between. She’s soft to the touch, so flexible and malleable—every part of her, you make yours. Then you get to her core, her inner thighs spreading, and watch as it unravels before you, quivering, soaked, needy. You look into each other’s eyes, hers anticipating. There’s a craze behind your irises, as if some repressed need is crawling back to the surface. It’s slowly driving you wild.

Your name drips on the edge of Yujin’s mouth—a sign of impatience—before suddenly cracking at the point of impact. She rolls her head back, her voice reduced to an airy sigh as your tongue licks up her slit, her entrance, in a slow upward motion. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to devolve into a hungry, primal mess. Her thighs close in and clamp you down, suffocating you while you become more familiar with the sensation and taste of her dripping cunt. 

If only you could hear the full extent of her moans, turning a pitch higher with each passing swipe and slurp. You’re humming into her core, satiated and fulfilled with the taste of her slick in your mouth. Yujin’s hands stretch out for help, for stability as pleasure gradually overwhelms her. Propped underneath her thighs, your hands dig under to reach places that your tongue can’t. She grows erratics, restless, moved by your presence inside her.

“Fuck!” The profanity escapes her lips instinctually, like it’s always been a part of her. She’s writhing, jaw slack, her back arched over the bar, her hands now grasping on your hair, then on the edges again. On your side, the pressure her thighs bring leave you suffocating. It’s too much. You should be begging for your life; instead, you’re enjoying every minute, slowing your pace every now and then to savor the feeling. 

Despite her state, she’s caught you by the wrists. They do little in stopping your tongue from consuming every inch of her, and you end up pushing her forward. You grip her by her thighs and spread her wide. She can’t resist. Fresh air has never felt more soothing to the lungs. By the way you have her legs dangled up in the air, you’re threatening to pull a nerve. She’s screaming, crying out in desperation, 

Still, it doesn’t change the outcome. Yujin finally loses herself completely and comes undone. She cums—blasts jets of slick all over your face and mouth. The counter pools with the aftermath of her orgasm, and you lick it all up, sanitation be damned. 

When you finally emerge from the depths of her tight, drenched cunt, she remains a mess, stamina completely drained, body still trembling from her massive climax. You’d think after that, she would be incapacitated for the night, until—

“Wait.” Yujin deeply exhales, pulls you by the wrist. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. As if struck by lightning, she suddenly rises up. A shit-eating grin forms on her lips, as if the damage wasn’t enough to take her down. There’s a familiar look in her eyes—the gaze of a woman who needs more.

She flicks a sample of her slick from the spot on the counter and laps it up, still eying you with unceasing lust. You remember her words, the question to ponder: “You’re gonna tell me now?”

Yujin blankly stares. The question lingers for a little while. “Tell you what?” she replies, the tone convincing enough to feign innocence.

“Why you love working for me.”

She smiles again, a teasing look. “You’re halfway there.”

“What does that mean?” As you try not to overreact, your assistant turned one night stand tries to stifle her laughter. It almost goes unnoticed, until— “Yuj, you’re really getting on my nerves with all this vaguery bullshit going on.”

“It’s part of the fun, is it not? Do you want me to give it straight?”

“Yes! Like always!” 

Yujin leans close. One hand reaches for your pants, the other still attached to your wrist. She appears like she’s going for yet another kiss, when she stops right next to your ear and whispers, “I want you to fuck me. Use me,” before drawing herself away.

On the surface, the stare you give her looks cold. Deep in your mind, the words resonate and ring louder and louder. Four words. “Fuck me—” “Use me—” The arousal bubbles up, manifests on your cheeks. The next few minutes can go so many ways, more than you can imagine. In your eyes, she’s still your assistant, a friendly, dependable worker whom you consider a close acquaintance more than anything. 

The thing is: you’ve already gone far past the point of no return. Her gaze is enticing—demanding—you to keep going. 

There’s no stopping now.

Yujin casually follows you to your bedroom, hand in tow. The rest of your clothes lie discarded in the kitchen—boxers, pants, and all. Gone are the nerves and hesitations; the attitude you have towards her is different. “Lay down,” you command her, voice steely, and she obliges, the bed flopping with the slight crash of her lithe figure. You won’t ever grow tired of staring at her naked body, regardless of it’s position. 

She lays flat on her tummy, observing you rummage through your large closet of suits, pulling a red tie from one of the drawers. “Not the first time I’ve had something wrapped around my neck,” she remarks, raising a curious eyebrow, crooked smile unyielding. “Stylish, just like you.”

“I wasn’t asking for your input.” You’re never this stern towards Yujin. You toss the necktie on the mattress before joining her atop the bed. “Turn around.”

Like the good girl she is, she obliges. That’s Yujin for you; she’ll always follow everything you tell her, no questions asked. On her fours, her plump ass glides face up, in complete view. Another temptation, another part of her to claim as yours. Regardless, you’re in no hurry; you’ve got the rest of the night.

With your erect cock in hand, you line the tip against her sopping cunt. She winces, moans at the contact. “Oh, fuck—” she whines, lifting her head up, her nails pressed into the sheets. As inviting as the call of her tight, wet pussy is to you, you make an organized effort to resist the immediate lull to fuck her hard.

Even holding her figure with your other hand proves to be a nightmare. Her body enraptures you in hypnotic ways. The arch of her back, the curve of her ass, the hourglass frame—it’s a feast for the eyes. You could take your sweet time and worship every little part of Yujin and she wouldn’t mind, but in the midst of your blinding daze, she’s calling to you. Again.

“Are you just gonna admire me or are you gonna shove that big cock in me?” She faces you with a mischievous grin. “I don’t mind both.”

Suddenly, you remember your position in this relationship. You grab her by the throat, face her away again. “Quiet. I don’t want to hear any more from you unless you’re taking this fucking cock.”

Showing a little resistance, she tries daring you, “Then f—fuck!”

Her jaw goes wide, frozen in place, her voice abruptly cutting as you undercut her with your cock. You’re no better; pleasure sets your muscles ablaze as you thrust into her inviting cunt. It shows in the deep groan spilling from your mouth. Little by little, you plunge ever so deep until you feel yourself buried to the hilt. That’s when you finally let out this breath of relief—but not for long. 

Her pussy clenches hard. Her heat proves to be suffocating beyond measure. If you don’t act quickly, she could end you in seconds. 

“O-oh God—”

You slowly, painstakingly pull back before throttling your hips into her. Taking these short breaths, every little move you make is precarious. It’s not that she’s resisting you—far from it—but it’s you resisting the urge to cum so soon. Your mind tries to think of anything other than what’s right in front, but even that proves to be nearly impossible. The ripple of her ass, the slight wobble of her breasts, the twisting grip of your hand on her otherwise soft skin—

“So fucking tight. Holy fuck, Yuj—” You manage to mutter before you’re reduced to groans again. 

All you can focus on is keeping yourself together while you’re slowly crumbing away. You find a rhythm in the midst of the madness, pounding away at your assistant’s cunt, your senses overrun by pleasure and the satisfying sound of your skin slapping skin. Elsewhere, your hands can’t seem to find solace in just one area. They’re everywhere; from her hair, to her throat, to the arch of her ass, to her hips, the imprints stay new, eventually creating a patterned sequence that immediately breaks.

You’re fucking these strained cries and prasies out of Yujin’s sweet lips, and it’s quite the mouthful. ’More,’ ‘harder,’ ‘so good—’ until it reaches the point where her voice is so worn from your chokehold that she can only speak in high pitched mewls. Another cycle you wish would never end. 

Slowing your pace, you reach for the necktie, gently tying it around her neck while preventing your rhythm from disrupting. “You’re such a fucking perfect woman, you know that?” you mutter in her ear, kissing the helix and indulging in the scent of her perfume mixed with sex and sweat. “Perfect listener, perfect assistant, perfect body—”

Pulling yourself away from her, you yank the tie along—your makeshift leash. Her body tilts all the way up, a sharp screech suddenly filling the bedroom. You’re not sure if its from the pull or just her moan. Either way, you have her in your grasp. Brushing her hair aside, you mumble, “Actually, I don’t know how to use a tie like that. I just wanted to remember what it’s like to be the boss. Your boss.”

It should have sounded flat, like all your other attempts at being convincing. And yet, she leans her ear backward, trying to recapture your lips. Teasing a little, your lips make what’s considered the most minimal of contacts, before you push her to her fours. You don’t intend to pull on the tie again, but you’re still holding on to it like your most prized possession—and it may as well be Yujin. 

“Of course,” are her first words uttered in a while that aren’t some combination of profanity and praise. 

Grabbing her by the midsection, the rhythm of your thrusts quickens. You feel it. The imminent collapse. And it’s not just the bed quaking and creaking from your sex. She’s pleading now; ’So close,’ she tells you, begs you to let her cum all over your cock. In any other scenario, you’d acquiesce. Here, with all the authority, you’re going to assert your power a little.

“Say it. Say it and I’ll let you cum all over me,” you demand, your hand climbing up to her chest, grabbing at her breast, folding her up slightly that her grip on the sheets transfers to the headboard. “I wanted you so fucking bad for so long.”

“Anything for you. Just let me cum!” she cries out, on the verge of falling apart. Dangerously close.

“Tell me I’m yours.”

“I’m yours!”

“You know what I meant. Say it again.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

Hearing her declare that she belongs to you with such conviction almost upends you too. You almost give in, but narrowaly escape thanks to your utter resolve. The smirk on your face is priceless.

“Perfect. Now cum.”

Just like that, her body reacts at the drop of your command, as if it was hardwired into her. Yujin goes numb—fidgeting, cumming all over your cock—as you continue to pound into her cunt. A single word echoes, going quieter with every incantation: ‘Fuck,’ she whines, caught reeling in her orgasm and catching every breath possible. 

Eventually, it comes to a standstill, the only thing left is for you to crash. Lucky for her, you’re not that far off. You’ve let go of the tie, holding onto her shoulders instead. So now it’s her opportunity to turn the tables on you again.

“Fucking give it to me—oh I need it now, oh God—” Yujin begs, barely keeping herself upright in the aftermath of her climax.

And you just crash down on her, slamming her deep into the sheets, turning her around as you fuck callously, clamping her neck, her moans ringing into your ear. She has a leg wrapped arond yours—as if you had any intention of pulling out. You’ve spent enough time away from her pretty face; now you want to watch her take all your load deep in her pussy.

Yujin’s mouth melds in the shape of a moan as the pressure finally overwhelms you. Burying yourself deep in her, you’re still pumping, fucking your cock as you blast thick load after thick load in her warm, creamy cunt. The sensation leaves you breathless, hanging onto her for dear life as you wait for the moment to pass. Though it may seem like a couple of minutes, the feeling lingers far longer than you can imagine. She milks you of all your worth, drawing every last drop from your throbbing cock until your body can’t move any longer.

Eventually, your bodies wind up together, limbs tangled, wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. The comfort you both needed after a long day.

—————

You gaze down at a tired Yujin. Hours ago, you were the one holding onto her; now she’s the clingy one, wrapping an arm over you. “I really need to know, Yuj.” 

She mumbles into your chest. “What is it?” You feel her soft lips leave lipstick marks on your skin.

You’re brushing away loose, dark strands of her hair to get a better look of her pristine, shiny face. “Why do you love working for me?”

After the passionate night you just had, you still have the gall to ask such a frivolous question. The answer should be obvious by now.

She looks up, smiling—a pleasant, friendly gleam, one you immediately recognize as soon as you walk through those office doors. “Because you’re the first boss I’ve ever worked for that isn’t a total asshole. Also, you’re good at everything.”

You raise an eyebrow and frown. “That’s not—”

“You know what I meant, boss.” The smiling turns into teasing. You realize, then you laugh.

You should be basking in the afterglow of sex, but daylight peeking through your curtain says otherwise. You’re so tired, you can’t move a muscle, let alone grab the phone from the living room to tell the time. All you know is that you should be at work by now, and so should Yujin.

The ring from your phone can be heard loud and clear, even a room and clothing pocket away. As you try to lift your head, Yujin meets you halfway, kissing you before laying you back down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll write up your leave of absence. Besides, I could use some time off too,” she says, inching her face close to yours.

The notion frightens you. Yujin, your most reliable assistant, never missing a day that isn’t considered a holiday, not by your side when you need her. 

And you need her now more than ever.

“Time off? When?”

“From now. Until you say we’re done.”

—————

(A/N: :bsadcorner:)

(Missing IVE's first proper world tour will always be one of my K-pop low points, even if I already watched and even shared an interaction with them. Goddammit, I can already expect the prices and perks for their next tour will be even more expensive than it already is. Sigh. Anyway, I hope they get their well deserved time off. Thank you for reading!)

[nottswitch]

Omg this idea is so cute im obsessed! Could you do one of Theodore Nott with 9 and smut is okay (actually I hope you can add it bcs I’m a whore). (Also idk if you end up using this but if you want to- I’m a Gryffindor) Thank you sm angel!

hi there, babe!! i’m so glad you like the idea, and thanks for sending a request <3 you ask for smut and i shall deliver! your aesthetic is…

— cabincore

(romanticizes the life of residing in a cabin)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the rain was already rattling the windows when your eyes fluttered open. it had been like that for the whole week you’d been staying in the cabin with theo, which only meant one thing – lazy days cuddled up in bed, the fireplace softly crackling in the corner, warm tea and-

"amore..."

theo’s raspy morning voice sounded like a melody next to your ear, his breath fanning your skin. the hold his arm had on you tightened ever so slightly, pressing your back closer to his chest.

"morning, baby," you whispered, turning your head to give him a kiss.

his lips found yours, connecting with them in soft, lazy movements. both of you were still half-asleep when you gasped, telling theo’s hard-on pressing right into your ass. the corners of his mouth twitched up, while his hips started slowly grinding against you.

"theo…" you pushed yourself back a bit to give into the friction he was creating between your bodies. his hand sneaked underneath your neck, his fingers finding your chin and tilting it up a bit to give him access to your neck.

"want you, tesoro," theo murmured against your skin. you just nodded in response, your mind still somewhat muddled with sleep but starting to wake up bit by bit. a whimper escaped your lips when his fingers found your already dripping pussy, circling your sensitive clit.

"please, baby," you all but moaned when a wave of pleasure washed through your body, caused by his skillful hand. theo smirked lazily against the skin of your neck. his fingers continued its gentle caress while his other hand tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down just enough for his hard cock to spring out against his lower abdomen.

you whimpered softly when his tip grazed your entrance, your body pushing against him on instinct. theo’s hips moved a couple of times, as if teasing you, before he slowly pushed into you, stretching out your needy walls. his quiet moan mixed together with yours, and his hand made its way underneath your sweater, cupping your breast and kneading the soft flesh, so pliant to his touch.

theo pumped lazily into you, his lips latched onto your neck as he placed gentle kissed along the side of it up to your ear. the sounds of your pleasure, the rattling of the rain against the windows and the crackling of the fireplace were the only sounds filling the room of the cabin for the rest of the morning.

playlist

❥ ivy by taylor swift

❥ cardigan by taylor swift

❥ sweater weather by the neighbourhood

❥ autumn leaves by ed sheeran

❥ cold coffee by ed sheeran

[everyonewooeverywhere]

Hard hours are open and I'm ready!!

Size training with yunho and how it takes a few times for you to adjust to his thick cock whilst he's fucking you.

He'd be so gentle and so fucking proud at the same time.

heyyyyy so i know this ask is over a month old....but i got really obsessed with it all of the sudden 😭

and this ended up a lot longer than i meant for it to...

but anyway-

size training and yunho just go together so well. it’s like a match made in heaven.

because he takes so much pride in it. pride in the training that is. (though he is also incredibly proud of how massive he is and how much prep it usually requires for someone to take him…🙂‍↕️)

and i just can’t help but feel like he’d enjoy size training as foreplay. like of course he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and safe, but FUCK if he doesn’t love how you beg for him to fuck you probably.

i get the feeling that he’d take at least a couple…sessions…before actually having you try to take his whole length. 

he’s a patient man. and you know how big he is. you can feel it every time you sit on his lap while you watch a movie. you’ve had your fair share of tired nights when you’ve jerked him off in his pants while he plays with you through your underwear. 

but when you first got together, he let you know immediately that you might not be able to take him. especially not right away. and you were so horny out of your mind about this man that you had begged him to at least try. your desire had almost brought you to tears. but he stood his ground. cupping your face and kissing your forehead telling you that “you just need a little training, baby” and promising “i won’t leave your pretty pussy empty for long”

that first night is so important to him. he wants you to understand that he can make you feel good even without his dick inside you. his hands will 100% do the trick. they do it for him, too, to be honest. watching his fingers disappear inside you is almost enough to make him cum in his pants. and watching how your eyelids flutter when he adds a third finger.

he’ll use toys too to build you up to it. whether they’re your own or his, he loves to watch you go a little crazy every time it gets bigger and he loves to hear your gasps every time. toys aren’t his favorite though because it’s less skin on skin contact. if he could, he’d just use his fingers, but he understands the importance of buildup.

when you both finally decide that you’re ready to try and take him, he makes sure everything is perfect. he makes sure the sheets are fresh, the room is cool, and that no one even has the possibility of disturbing the two of you for the foreseeable future. and he sets the expectation that it might not happen tonight. but you’re determined.

he always starts in missionary. it’s easier for him to control that way, and he finds that’s usually where his partner is usually the most comfortable the first time. maybe he’ll even put a pillow under your lower back and make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. and he absolutely has lube on standby if it’s needed. he’s a big hand holder too, so he’ll grab your hand against your stomach and caress your knuckles as he lines himself up with your entrance. “we’ll start with just the tip, ok baby?” 

and he’ll push into you ever so slightly. the stretch is still a lot to take, so he’s so fucking gentle, he’s constantly reminding you to “breathe, baby” and he makes sure to ask you every time if you’re ok to go further. and he lets you gasp out your “yes” before trying to fit in another inch. he keeps the reassurance coming even if he can’t help himself from crossing the line into condescending

“good girl, taking my cock so well” “oh you fit me so perfectly, angel” “do you feel good, baby?” “yeah?” “oh you can’t even think straight anymore can you?”

when he’s about half an inch from bottoming out, you grab his hand, squeezing hard, “yunho…” you choke out. “are you ok, angel? what’s wrong?” you shake your head “no i…fuck…i can’t…i’m so close” and he feels you tighten around him at the admission. “fuck ok. hold on baby.” he presses his body up against yours and brings his lips to your ear, “we’re almost there, ok? just hold out for a couple more seconds” all you can do is just whimper and nod as he pushes himself in the last few centimeters.

“oh fuckkk baby” he brings a hand to your clit “you’re gonna cum” mhmm you nod frantically, burying your nails in his back 

“you’re so big” you barely gasp out. “i know. i know, baby.” he kisses your cheeks and lips as he plays with your clit. “can you come for me? please? come on my cock?” that’s all it takes for your warm walls to tighten around him and he holds you to his chest while you come. 

and part of me all of me feels like, as long as you’re okay with it, that yunho would want cockwarming to be heavily involved in the early stages of his aftercare. like he’ll flip you over so you’re seated in his lap. and he’ll stay inside you while he kisses your neck and shoulders. and making sure you get plenty of vocal affirmation “you did so good for me baby” “i’m so proud of you, pretty” “my good girl, you did so well” eventually, when he notices your discomfort at the constant stretch, he’ll pull you off of him and clean you properly. but at least for a little while he wants you to have a…physical reminder…of how good you did.

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.” 

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.” 

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up. 

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.” 

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper. 

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.” 

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful. 

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking. 

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.” 

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.” 

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?” 

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?” 

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.” 

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.” 

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.” 

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?” 

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say. 

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?” 

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.” 

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you. 

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.” 

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.” 

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three. 

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.” 

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens. 

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.” 

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair. 

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.” 

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.” 

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium. 

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.”

“Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

[manikas-whims]

LADS men + Halloween Costumes

Now with Sylus solo banner upcoming, the possibility of getting a Halloween quad banner is nil. And i’m happy for it cuz this has saved me from making a really bad financial decision 😆

anyways here's some mulling over the LIs costume choices..

SYLUS

Option 1: Vampire

If we consider Sylus’s overall aesthetic, then Vampire is the most obvious choice for him. He can't go out in the daylight for some inexplicable reason; definitely a creature of the night. He has red eyes that glow in the dark. And even during Destiny Café interactions, he playfully sinks his teeth into your palm. No doubt he'd enjoy sinking them more into your neck 🤭

Also like imagine a 5 star Sylus Halloween card where MC begins suspecting Sylus to be a vampire. And the whole card revolves around her trying to collect evidence. Even Luke and Keiran begin to suspect Sylus thanks to MC and the 3 join forces. The card ends with Sylus playfully scolding all of them 😆 and laughing in disbelief, in that deep cadence that he has 😊

Option 2: Demon

Another obvious choice. If not a vampire, then the red eyes and dark aesthetic are also quite befitting for a Demon attire. A very charming demon who lures you into sinning by offering his black card 🤭 and ofcourse you willingly sell your soul to him.

Option 3: Bounty Hunter

You know those charming sorts of outlaws that everyone loves and roots for? Yeah, that would fit so well with Sylus. Especially the steampunk aesthetic. So yeah..a steampunk style, bounty hunter Sylus with an array of weapons strapped all over. He only works solo but will definitely make an exception for you 😌

Option 4: Crow

Unlike the other two, this option involves a big, poofy bird suit. A crow outfit to be specific. And he looks simply adorable in it 🥺 Imagine yourself trying not to laugh as you sneakily take millions of photos of him in this outfit 🤭 while he sneers at you but there's no actual anger behind his gaze.

XAVIER

Option 1: Werewolf

It may sound unusual upon first thought but this will play so well into his overall persona of the “wolf in sheep's clothing” or “wolf in bunny clothing”. He did nibble on your finger and sniffed your scent in the No Restraint card. And I'm damn sure he has a thing for biting and marking. So just imagine him putting on the wolf ears, claws and fangs, and he starts acting more sly than ever, saying he's only playing the part 😉

Option 2: Royalty

Another obvious choice. Xavier is pretty used to this cause he is royalty afterall. So assuming a position of power comes easy to him (remember Floral Blessing?). Maybe some sort of chivalrous and gallant prince because he can easily add his swordplay skills to it. Seeing him regard you as his queen will be a treat sweeter than all the candies 😌

Option 3: Lumiere

You think it's the most hilarious inside joke— Lumiere hiding in plain sight amidst the crowd of Linkon on one night where a large majority would be dressed as their legend. Their hero. Xavier absolutely hates it! And he hates the amount of people he spots in Lumiere costumes. But he'll put it on upon your insistence. Just be ready for the consequences later on cause this man is jealous of his own superhero alter-ego 😭

Option 4: Angel

Xavier with large white wings protruding from his back would be another fitting sight with his overall white/silver aesthetic. Imagine him as your guardian angel, always watching over you, protecting you and trying his best to guide you on the right path, despite his own desires for you.

Option 5: Bunny/Alien

If not the above choices, then some cute/sexy bunny costume (though we've already got our bunny butler). Or a really silly alien costume that somewhat resembles his sticker set. We know he'll look squisher than ever in those 🥺

ZAYNE

Option 1: Mad Scientist

Something similar to Dr. Faustus or Dr. Frankenstein (yeah Frankenstein was NOT the monster but the name of the guy who created the monster..in case some people still don't know 😭). Zayne’s personal goal– his obsession and drive– to keep MC alive is somewhat similar to Dr. Frankenstein’s obsession with unraveling the secrets of life and well..ultimately beating death by bringing someone to life. And Zayne's hunger for knowledge is also similar to that of Dr. Faustus’s who readily sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge.

So yeah..Zayne as a mad scientist, obsessed with knowledge and the drive to keep you alive would be intense 💯/💯

Option 2: Tutor

He'll sigh, take off his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance, like he always does. But you'll somehow convince him to do it because he's incapable of saying no to you.

It starts as a silly costume idea but the moment you see his legs clad in those unusually tight-fitting slacks and the pointer stick in his hand, you realize you might have a tutor kink and that you wouldn't mind misbehaving cause you'd actually enjoy getting punished by him 🫣

Option 3: Snowman/Penguin

The cute option! Definitely Dr. Carter, Yvonne and his other co-workers coaxed him to put it on for the little kids visiting Akso hospital throughout the week. When you stop by for a scheduled check-up and stumble upon him, you can't help but take loads of pictures of him with the kids 😊

RAFAYEL

Option 1: Merman/Siren

Just like Xavier as Lumiere, Rafayel as a merman on halloween would be such a spectacular inside joke.

At first he'd be offended because the fake tail you bought for him would feel like an insult to the real thing. He would pout and narrow his brows but after your constant cajoling and sweet-talking he'll agree to indulge you. And it's all fun and games until you realize why all those sailors in fiction are so terrified yet turned on at the mere sight of a merman/siren. He'll entice you so easily with his velvety voice 😵‍💫

Option 2: Assassin

Don't fall for his pretty face. Rafayel can be cunning, deceptive and deadly when he wants to be. (in the main story and also as Abysswalker). As such, putting on the attire of an assassin would come easy to him. His charm is as lethal as the numerous daggers he conceals within his clothes. He’ll strike you right in the heart. Can totally imagine him doing finger guns at you 😉

Option 3: Chick

Pouty babie in an adorable chick costume with a beret and paintbrush, like his sticker pack. Imagine him struggling with the bulky costume, trying to waddle towards you in annoyance, demanding you to immediately help him take off the costume. Despite it all, he'd let you hug him and take selfies. He'll hate every minute of it but still pose properly when you take pics 😆

these are just some silly thoughts..what are your costume ideas for each LI 🤔

» MASTERLIST «

[retroaria]

hello! if you're not busy, then may i please request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? in which they become enamored with their interviewers charm. a few specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like! you can do this in your free time, no pressure. thank you, and take care!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i’m so sorry please don’t hate me for how long this took i am NOT a professional :x

⋆˙⟡ interviewer!reader x - rin - nagi - kaiser - ⋆˙⟡

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | •

nagi seishiro ᯓᡣ𐭩

*totally lovestruck*

nagi has always struck me as someone who considers himself to be “out of the league” for most people he finds attractive, so he doesn’t put himself out there and doesn’t really know how. if he was in a situation where he had to interact with someone he genuinely was enamored by, he’d be a mess.

and so he stands there, dopy, clueless, not even looking correctly in the camera and seemingly staring at…you? No, he’s definitely staring at you. his eyes are dull and dim, but they seem to be a little hazed, glossed over with a sheen of fascination. he shakes his head and nods and mumbles, unbeknownst to whatever it is you’ve actually been asking him.

this is not the look nagi ever intended to have when speaking to someone he finds this attractive, but he truly can’t help it. his minds gone blank and he isn’t sure if you’re standing perfectly under a spotlight or if you’re an angel naturally glowing in his presence. his internal dialogue is stuck between cringing at himself and taking mental note of every single feature he can gather with his eyes on you - all over you, i should say.

nagi would be way too excited to actually ask you out (also definitely not after staring you down like a creep), he’d be too afraid of losing his cool. but he would absolutely remember your name and ask around when he has the chance - would ask reo for help with this lol. through some industry path of team managers to stadium staff to news reporters, he eventually finds you again. would 100% stalk you on social media and follow you just to see where that goes .

just like rin, he’d try to be in the right place at the right time and do the right things to get you to strike some sort of non formal conversation with him in the hopes that’ll it’ll create an opening for him to ask you out :x

rin itoshi ᯓᡣ𐭩

*blushes and looks away…*

rin hates interviews. he doesn’t like open ended questions and he hates having a camera shoved in his face. most of the reporters that run up to him on the edge of the field just holler questions and statements at him that can often feel degrading and presumptuous.

when he was stopped just outside the stadium by you and your small crew, you spoke to him with a lack of crassness that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in ages - so he agrees. his answers remain cold and striking, as they always are, but his demeanor is more loose than usual.

rin initially doesn’t feel anything for you other than respect and gratitude for treating him like a human unlike the other reporters he’s encountered. he was sure to get your name and properly thank you. he’s the type to think about you and hope that you’ll cross paths again. wouldn’t go out of his way to find you, but at every game and every event he scans the crowds in search of your smile that had welcomed him so tenderly before. not to mention your face has popped into his head almost everyday since he first met you and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

when he does see you again he accepts your interview request immediately, bullshits through all the questions, and sticks around a little longer to talk to you. he’s painfully awkward and even more painfully unaware of it, but once you notice the slight blush on his face you can steer him in the right direction lol

michael kaiser ᯓᡣ𐭩

*prince charming*

when you introduced yourself to kaiser in hopes of getting an interview you certainly did not expect the offer to be accepted so enthusiastically. kaiser isn’t necessarily bothered by interviews, but he hates having to think of answers on the spot.

he’d throw out some cheeky lines like “If I smile at the camera can I get a date?” and a classic for him, “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

you’re asking him questions he surely has been asked before, questions he’s probably been trained to answer, but his answers are boastfully and flirtatiously directed at you and you alone. your camera man leaned over and asked if he should just cut all the footage. you entertain him a little more, trying to see if you can get him to break his prince charming act and actually talk about the game he just played.

eventually he lets up and you get the interview done. as you and your crew are about to leave the stadium, he grabs your hand and lifts it up, planting a soft kiss to your knuckles (you think maybe this could be considered assault, but you’ll let it slide for him this one time).

unlike the other two, kaiser doesn’t have a bashful bone in his body in this situation. i’ve always felt that he isn’t as much of a manwhore as everyone thinks he is, which i still stand by!!! but if he sees you and is truly enamored by you he knows how to make his feeling apparent.

[satosugusandwich]

His Angel and His Brat

Part 1!!! Part 2

Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader

(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)

Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.

CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((

There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.

Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.

But.

“Suguru!”

Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.

“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.

Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?

“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”

You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.

“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”

Suguru is evil.

“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.

He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”

You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.

“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.

“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.

“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”

Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.

“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.

Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.

As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.

Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.

Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”

“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.

Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.

“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.

Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.

Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”

Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”

Uh oh.

Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.

Suguru waits to see his reaction.

And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”

“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.

Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”

Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”

Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.

“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”

What?

You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.

Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”

[sttoru]

“AS IF THE MEMORIES HAVE A HEART THAT ONLY BEATS AT NIGHT.”

༄ sypnosis. your boyfriend is on a business trip, yet always finds the time to call you at night. though, this time he’s lonely and in need of comfort.

༄ note. inspired by one of mahmoud darwish’s poems plus by my love for this man. sigh he’s so pretty. excuse me if this is too sappy.

༄ tags. satoru x reader. female reader. pet names such as ‘sweet, love, baby, babe, angel”. satoru is clingy. this is just uhh, fluff and sprinkles of angst + reverse comfort. spoilers jjk manga (stuff w/ suguru & toji).

“what are you doing,” “where are you,” and “who’s with you,”

satoru, as always, didn’t give you the chance to greet him properly once you picked up his call. your boyfriend was sent on a mission overseas and has been calling you every night since.

he says it’s to ‘hear your pretty voice’ and because he apparently ‘can’t survive without hearing it at least once a day’.

“satoru— love, calm down.” you chuckle softly, putting the call on speaker before going back to eat your dinner.

you hear the sorcerer let out a small whine over the phone, “my bad, sweet. you know i always look forward to speaking with you.”

you hum lightly in response. satoru has always had the habit to call you whenever he misses you even in the slightest of amounts.

some may find that annoying, however you’re aware that you are the only person satoru can rely on at the end of the day. that’s exactly why you try your best to answer all of his phone calls.

“how’d the mission go?” you ask after swallowing a bite of your food.

“pfft, the usual. dealt with some annoying curses that’ve been plaguing the area.” your boyfriend groans; he wished he didn’t have to take care of his duties so he could be with you all the time.

satoru just wanted to hold you in his arms, cuddle you, shower you with love, take you out on cute dates and spoil you with all kinds of gifts. his responsibilities as a teacher and as the strongest sorcerer constantly got in the way of that simple dream.

“good work, baby. you did well today.” you reply, earning a small ‘i-know-i-did’ huff from your boyfriend.

“thanks,” satoru adds, his voice muffled. it sounded like he had some food in his mouth, which you easily guessed was something sweet, “you know.. i was thinking about us— eh, you in particular.”

a silence falls over the phone afterwards. it was like satoru gave you a moment to process his words before he continues.

“well, when do you not think about me?” you snicker.

you couldn’t see it, but satoru rolled his eyes at your comment before letting a chuckle escape his lips, “hey! was trying to create a sentimental mood there.”

“but, i guess— yeah. true.” your words were the truth; satoru was a hopeless man when it came to you. you’ve invaded his thoughts, his heart and even his soul.

“anyways,” your boyfriend continues, pausing slightly to swallow the snack in his mouth, “i know i say this every day, but i wish you were here with me.”

you stop chewing on your food as soon as you hear the slight change of tone in satoru’s voice. you immediately knew that he needed you at the moment.

“mhm, i know,” you reply quietly. you wanted to let him get it all out before comforting him properly with your words.

satoru took that short answer as a sign to keep talking and opening up about his feelings to you.

“it’s just,” he sighs defeatedly, “actually, i don’t know. i guess being alone during times like these really gets to me.”

satoru stared at the ceiling as he laid on his back. his phone was on the pillow right next to his head, also on speaker.

when he’s with you, it’s easy to forget about all kinds of gloomy thoughts that may enter his mind. all satoru has to do is focus his attention on you and he won’t have any time to dwell on such stuff.

however when he’s alone, he’s left with his own brain and the thoughts that ate away at him ever since the inevitable incident with toji a few years ago.

suguru. amanai.

rustling sounds; satoru’s moving positions on his bed to somehow focus on your voice again.

“i guess it’s also because it’s unknown what the future holds.” satoru pauses. this time the pause was for him to collect his thoughts.

you knew what he meant by that; satoru had went through a few traumatic events over the years. he’s faced betrayal, loss and death ever since he was a teenager.

even if he doesn’t say nor show it, satoru is scared of what the future holds for him. especially with you in the picture now— he doesn’t want you to change or disappear on him. the thought alone makes his heart ache.

“..hey, can you promise me one thing, angel?” satoru eventually speaks up again, his voice a hushed whisper over the phone.

“of course. what is it?” you answer softly.

a third and short silence falls between you again.

“promise me that you’ll stay safe.” satoru sounds like he’s desperately trying to keep his tone neutral, however you could sense some vulnerability in there.

now that you’re thinking about it, you’ve never seen or heard satoru cry out in sadness or distress. though you know for sure that those feelings are building up somewhere inside of him. it’s only a matter of time before they need to be released.

“i promise,” you start in a comforting tone, “i promise i’ll stay safe, satoru.”

you could hear your boyfriend sigh in relief. just a small promise like that was enough to calm him down a little. for now, that is.

“i’ve failed many people before,” satoru continues, still trying to keep the tone of his voice neutral, “however, i will not fail you.”

you nod to yourself. the rest of your dinner was getting cold as you used your chopsticks to absentmindedly poke the rice while listening to satoru over the phone.

“you’re too important for me to lose,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath to steady his voice, “if it ever comes to that.. i don’t know what i’ll do.”

satoru actually doesn’t know how he’ll react or what he’ll do if you—the only person worth fighting for—would leave him; will all the thoughts come crashing down on him and cause him to finally break down?

he doesn’t know. nor does he want to find out. ever.

“don’t you worry, love.” you answer, “i hereby promise you that i won’t leave your side any time soon.”

you sigh, a small smile on your face which satoru couldn’t witness. you figured to cheer him up with your own words— it felt like he needed a mix of distraction and comfort at the moment and that’s what you wanted to give him.

“i’m not going anywhere. you’re completely and utterly stuck with me for now.” you playfully warn him, putting emphasis on the two words, “there’s no backing out of this, ‘toru.”

the sorcerer couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your last remark; you always knew how to make him feel better in an instant. that’s why he loved you to death,

“make that forever and we have a deal.”

“fiiine,” you reply in an over exaggerated tone before giggling, “forever it is. don’t get bored of me any time soon then.”

“oh, don’t you worry, angel.” satoru chuckles, sighing the stress away in one deep breath, “i’ll never get bored of my favourite girl. never in a million years.”

he sits up on his bed before standing up and walking to the window of his hotel room. satoru looked outside while grabbing another snack from a nearby table.

the sky was beautiful; it reminded him of you, though your beauty was no match for the sky. you were prettier than nature itself.

“satoru.” you call out to him over the phone and he immediately snaps back to reality.

“yeah, baby?” he replies, unwrapping his chocolate bar with one hand in the meantime.

“be reaaaal honest with me. like really honest.” a grin forms on your face as you thought of what to say next.

“you know i always speak the truth with you,” satoru mutters with a smile while putting a piece of chocolate in his mouth, “go on.”

“how many of those chocolate bars have you eaten today?”

the question caught satoru off guard and he instantly stops chewing.

satoru turns his head to the left and then to the right, eyes narrowed and body in a defensive stand like somebody was going to attack him any time soon.

“wh— the hell? how did you know? don’t tell me you’ve been secretly watchin’ me the entire time.”

you could already picture the way he’s probably checking his entire hotel room at the moment. your poor boyfriend may be strongest, but not when it comes to such silly ‘scary’ stuff. it’s adorable.

“babe, you never go a day without eating that one specific chocolate bar.” you giggle softly, taking another bite of your own food, “i’ve come to know your eating habits by now.”

“that so?” satoru grins to himself as he puts another piece in his mouth, “what am i thinking at the moment then? if you know me so well.”

you roll your eyes and get up to put your dishes away, taking your phone with you to the sink. “hmm.. well let me think.”

“take all the time you need, baby.”

satoru constantly tells you that you’re always on his mind, so you figured that this time wouldn’t be any different.

you know it’d probably be something sappy that’ll make you both giggle uncontrollably.

“maybe, something like—“ you start in a teasing tone, “i don’t know, uhh— ‘i love you?’”

there it goes; the uncontrollable giggles and laughter that fill both of your ears. it felt like you were two young teenagers in love again.

“damn, i’m really that predictable, huh?” satoru eventually says, trying to catch his breath as his tummy started to hurt from laughing so much.

“nah. i’d say it’s the power of love.”

another fit of laughter follows.

so, the night went on and on; going from discussions about random stupid stuff to deep philosophical conversations and back to the cheesy, lovey dovey remarks.

and of course, the call wouldn’t end without a direct and sleepy ‘i love you’ from your dear boyfriend.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, established relationship, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi- public sex, mirror sex Summary: Feeling needy at a party Eddie's taken you to in order to deal to the attendees, you steal him away and give him a different kind of show by making out with a woman to excite him. The woman? yourself. WC:1.8K

A/N: Was I drunk when I came up with this? yup. Was I drunk when I sat down and wrote it? yupx2. Am I drunk right now? honey, what do you think? anyway, enjoy!

"Show me"

He stares you down in that way that makes the guest bathroom feel much smaller than it actually was, like there might not even be enough air for the both of you to occupy it at the same time with the way he keeps stealing your breath.

You could still hear the music echo as it continued to blare outside, the beer you'd downed to give yourself the courage to whisper into Eddie's ear in the first place now sloshing around inside your belly, adding to the intensity of having his eyes roving all over you.

It all began an hour into Todd Henley's party, fed up of all the drunken bodies swaying around as they bumped right into you without apology before they passed by on unsteady legs.

But what irked you the most was that half the crowd had been spending more time with your boyfriend than you were able to all night, all of them handing him crumpled dollars in exchange for little baggies and whatever else he could fit in his pockets to keep the partygoers' spirits high.

You couldn't take it for very much longer though. Unable to help yourself, you sprang into action just before Todd himself could attempt to approach Eddie, cutting in front of the birthday boy, entirely uncaring of the scowl that twisted Todd's lips because Eddie was all you could think about. And you let the latter know as much.

"I need you" you'd whined as you'd wrapped yourself around Eddie's arm when you pull him towards a lonelier corner of the room, all sweet and clingy and then a little more quietly; "watching you made me so wet".

As you'd expected, he's quick to grin at you when he takes your hand. Gently he led you through the crowd, even turning down a few potential customers like Todd who'd tried to approach Eddie with cash in hand, a quick but firm "not now" grunted at them over the music.

It made your hopes rise, growing giddy, thinking he'd take you back to his van to fool around, away from the rest of the party only to end up pouting when he'd pulls you into a vacant guest bathroom instead.

"Go on. Show me", he'd repeated again, still soft and patient with you, standing tall over you as you grow so pliant under his stare, giving in easily as you reach under your dress to pull your panties down to your mid thighs.

He observes closely as you part your legs as much as your underwear will allow, showing off the collection of slick sitting warm and wet on the thin red cotton.

Eddie whistles low as he sees it. "Looks serious", he mused, pressing his index finger into the middle of your panties. He pulls his damp finger back, rubbing it against his thumb and pulling them apart to watch a clear web of your essence develop between them.

Hoping you've pleased him enough you try again.

"Can we, Teddie? Please?", you make sure to dial up the sweetness, all saccharine and cute as your plead.

But the thing is Eddie sometimes liked to have fun with you at times likes these, anything to work up his girl in good jest as another toothy grin develop on his face. "Sorry. Still got some dealing to do, angel face", he explains, looking the opposite of apologetic about it until he sees your face crumble and fall.

"Hey hey, I'm only teasing", he's quick to drop the suave, unwavering persona he treats his customers with for his usual rough around the edges kind of natural warmth, kissing your wobbling bottom lip hard for good measure. "You know I'd never turn you down", he makes sure to add, taking your hand and pressing it over his clothed erection to show you that he's telling the truth, feeling relieved when your lips spread into a smile.

"Tell you what. Since we're already in here why don't we just make use of it?", he offers with a cheesy grin and raising his brows in a way that comes off more cartoonish than it does suggestive but it makes you happy nonetheless. He chuckles at the way your whole face lights up at the suggestion because honestly, you couldn't wait any longer, reaching behind Eddie to lock the door shut.

~

You warmed up to getting led in here by Eddie even more when you noticed how the room smelled pleasantly of white jasmine thanks to a little sachet of air freshener hung up on the door handle. The living room where most of the party had congregated including yourself for that one hour was all booze and smoke and sweaty bodies barely guised by cheep perfume and cologne, and for that reason you were glad to be away from it all and not sifting through the thick crowd of people to get to the van.

But mostly, you liked getting handsy in Todd's guest bathroom because unlike Eddie's van, this had a mirror.

When you bend over the sink, you do so quickly and willingly, making Eddie huff out a small laugh through his nose. Carefully he gathers as much of your hair as he can in one hand, pulling on it to encourage you to keep your eyes on each other's reflections in front of you.

It's a filthy sight when you're made to look at yourself. Your tits are spilling out over the top of your dress, made so by when Eddie carefully pulled at it enough to free them, pinching, pulling and nipping at them before he settled you in this new position facing away from him.

With your panties drawn down a few inches above your knees, you could feel Eddie pull your dress up over your ass, eagerly pressing his turgid cock between your thighs once he's pried it out his boxers, the fat tip and length of his cock gliding between your folds and against your puffy clit perfectly.

Watching closely in the mirror, you memorize the little knit between his brows as he does it, a thrill coursing through you as his cheeks then blend from a light pink to a deep mauve while he humps between your thighs.

"Y' ready for me?" he huffs, his lips parted as he looks to your reflection for an answer.

"I'm ready. Please, Teddie. Been waiting all night", you whine back to him over your shoulder, catching the way the corner of his mouth picks up into a smirk.

He's inside you not long after that, stretching you with his thickness which even after all this time, still makes you hiss through the initial sting. But you've never complained about it, always inclined to moan with a wave of pleasure especially now when his hips connect with your ass, bouncing against him while he has both of his hands set firmly just below your waist to keep you steady.

It's not gentle the way Eddie pummels into you but it is a steady and easy climb towards your release. It's because he knows exactly what it takes to make you cum, just minutes of him thrusting into that spot inside you that only he can reach until your belly's winding tight and your toes start to curl inside your shoes.

"Eds, I'm close", you squeak, more a warning than anything else when he pulls at your hair again. Your knees are quick to wobble when he makes you watch yourself getting ruined by him, noticing the runny mascara down your cheeks and your pretty lipstick smudged near the corner of your mouth, bare tits bouncing with every thrust.

"God, you look so good. Go on baby, give yourself a kiss", he tells you through ragged grunts, his free hand landing a few spanks on your ass for good measure.

You do as you're told, leaning closer to your reflection, your lower stomach pressing against the sink in a way that in this position, makes it feel so much more intense with his cock still inside you.

Lips just centimeters away from the glass, the idea of making out with yourself didn't strike you as all that arousing at first, only going along with it because it was something Eddie had wanted and that was reason enough for you to oblige.

You begin by pressing your lips against the cold mirror, chaste at first until you see the desperation swirling behind your hooded eyes. You looked so utterly fucked out, lips parted and your tongue lolling out with a thin rivulet of drool dripping down to your chin. You liked it more than you could understand, especially with Eddie right behind you and in view too.

Finding yourself getting worked up the longer you keep at it, the fire burning inside you only burns bigger and brighter as you see Eddie's reflection while he keeps pumping into you, his bangs stuck to his forehead with a light sweat, his lips pink and full from his teeth biting down on it and the look he gives you when you eyes connect through the mirror.

"Y'like it don't you, doll?", he asks the obvious question just to see you squirm under him, his lips pulled back into a pleased smile as you muster up the strength to nod.

Your breath fogs up the mirror as you continue to pant through Eddie's thrusts, giving him a show as traces of your red lipstick are left behind from your kisses, growing more aroused at the sight of yourself taking Eddie's cock like this.

It's sloppy and oh so perfectly dirty. Eddie watches in amazement as you tongue at your own reflection, your swollen lips leaving traces of spit all over the mirror, uncaring if Todd or his family find the muddled mess of lipstick on their mirror by tomorrow.

"That's it. You see how pretty you look like this? can't help it can you? Good girl. Use your tongue a bit more for me, yeah? fucking perfect..."

It's different being fucked like this, half of you unsure of which reflection you ought to keep your eyes fixed on as you near your climax, deciding to switch from one to the other the closer you get.

Sighing and whimpering underneath Eddie, you mean to warn him just before you tipped over the edge but with your mouth so busy as you press one last kiss against the glass, Eddie can tell that you're cumming when you squeeze your walls around his cock sporadically, crying his name out with your cheek pressed against the once clean glass.

The sight of you all spent and the feeling of you clamping down on him triggers his own orgasm, creamy white spurts filling you up between your legs while he bites down on your shoulder, grunting so deeply by your ear as he thrusts through the final wave that overcomes him.

"You did so well, baby", he groans into your clammy skin during your mutual comedown, teeth grazing the place where he'd bitten down on you as you look up to smile at him lazily through the mirror. He admires you fondly through the mirror, one hand rubbing your back.

"Also", he pats his jacket pocket while he's still inside you. "Remind me to give Todd one on the house", he finishes and the both of you share a laugh, looking over the mess on the counter top and mirror as a result of your time together.

Yeah. Todd's definitely entitled to a freebie. That's for sure.