#and neither seem to need a guide on where they are???

[hexescore]

oh and by the way, i love you.

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: first 'i love you's with (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. pre-established relationship (caitlyn, jinx, mel, viktor). friends-to-lovers (ekko, jayce, sevika, vi).

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

It's quiet, the early morning blessing you both with a peaceful silence that allows you two to truly appreciate the sight in front of you— each other. Caitlyn enjoys moments like this, waking up with you, getting to see the way the rising sun filters through her curtains to cast a golden glow across your skin.

Her hand, which is in yours, gives a gentle squeeze. You give her a sleepy smile, and she chuckles as she leans in to press a quick peck to your lips, and then another, and another, before you're both shuffling together, closer. Legs and arms entangled, a slowness in you both knowing that neither of you have to leave anytime soon.

"You know," She whispers, her eyes shut. She had imagined how she'd say this a million times, wondered when it'd be the right time, but Caitlyn quickly realizes that perhaps the right time is the time she makes to say it. So she makes the time. "I love you."

Your heart skips a beat, and you pull away to look at her. Her eyes open, and you can see the panic flashing in her eyes- was it too soon? did she get confused? had she-

"I love you, too." Her tense form immediately relaxes again, and she buries her head into your neck, shaking her head as she lets out a breathless laugh. You laugh along with her, both of you feeling nerves and excitement at those words.

"Don't scare me like that," she whines against your skin. Indulging this rare side of Caitlyn, you gently pat her back, cooing at her.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, won't happen again." You'll definitely respond faster next time!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

EKKO

Ekko had been acting quite strange as of late, and had you been any less keen you'd just assume he was busy- but this was different, he was most definitely avoiding you! Which is why you devised a plan to corner him and get to the bottom of this whole situation.

It was like any other day, except you had been lying in wait. Waiting, and waiting, until he was finally alone. You continued to follow him to a secluded area. "Ekko." He tensed up, but recovered quickly as he turned to glance at you.

"Oh, uh, hey, what's up?" Was he serious? You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a pointed look. Ekko's guilty conscious is clear as day when it comes to you, from the way his Adam's apple bobs to the way his fist clench and unclench. You frown.

"Ekko..." He doesn't say anything. "Alright, I'll ask it. Why have you been avoiding me?" He falters, looking ashamed. He knew it was wrong to avoid you, but when he came to realize how intense his emotions were for you it freaked him out. He hadn't... He didn't mean to... well, fall in love, during such a time.

The silence is heavy, and you debate just leaving, before Ekko clears his throat. "There are things that I've been meaning to tell ya... I'm just having a hard time finding the words..." He scratches the back of his neck.

"Like?" You press, needing to know what has been so hard to say that he's been avoiding you.

"Like... I love you?"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JAYCE TALIS

"Jayce? What are you doing?" Jayce, with his hand respectfully on your lower back, guides you away from the boring and artificial conversations of Piltover's finest. He excuses you both, much to your dismay. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere private," He says through a tense smile. You soon find yourself down the hall, away from the party but still able to hear it's chatter. It seems Jayce hadn't prepared for what comes after he got you away from those flirty elites.

"Well?" You ask, head tilted in a questioning way. "Are you going to explain why you so rudely pulled me away? I was about to get some nice funding for your-" Jayce cuts you off, desperation rolling off of him in waves.

"Because I love you," He says, "And I can't stand to see them look at you, touch you-" He stops to take a deep breath before he gets himself too worked up. "Look, I know... I know you probably don't feel the same, and I understand if you don't, but-"

"Jayce," You call once, and like an obedient dog he stops everything he's doing. Instead he waits, hanging on to your words. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you pull him into a kiss. It's needy, filled with want and love and passion. Until you can't breath, you wait until you can't breathe to pull away, and look him in the eyes.

"I love you."

For the first time that night, Jayce's lips curl into a genuine smile. It's so bright and warm you get weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach.

"Can we ditch the party now?"

"Oh definitely."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JINX

"Wrench!" Jinx calls dramatically, hand stuck out and awaiting her tool- which you promptly hand to her, repeating her words 'wrench.' She giggles as she grasps the wrench and twists a few bolts on her latest invention.

When she finishes, she takes in inhale of breath, ready to shout the next tool she needs, but already in her hand is a can of spray paint. She blinks a few times- how did you know? She grins, looking back at you, before looking at the can of spray paint.

"This is why I love you, ya know that?" She says, not really processing the words until you say them back to her.

"You... You love me?" The shock is evident in your voice. It's not that Jinx hasn't shown her love, her affections, for you, but this is the first time she's vocalized them and it has your heart hammering in your chest. She blinks a few times, lifting her goggles to rest on top her head.

"I did say that, didn't I?" She says, more to herself than to you. She then looks you in the eyes, that sparkle in them has your throat tightening up. "Yeah, I love you." You try to speak, truly, but you can't get a word out. "Jeez, is it that surprising, thought it was obvious?"

"No, it's just-" You finally manage to speak. Actually, you finally manage to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed, she's fiddling with her tools, she's nervous- she's vulnerable- and you feel a protective instinct come on. "I love you, too- I really, really love you."

She laughs nervously, turning away from you. That's enough emotional vulnerability she's willing to share today. "Yeah, yeah, let's not get too mushy, 'kay?" You don't push it, instead nodding along. "Uh, anyways... Hand me that wrench again...!"

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

MEL MEDARDA

"You don't have to say it back," Mel Medarda has always been diplomatic, even in your relationship. She's also always been rather guarded, keeping all her cards close to her chest- but she allows you from time-to-time to catch a peak behind her walls. "I just wanted to let you know. I... I love you."

Undoubtedly, you love her back. You've loved her from the moment she smiled at you- Mel was hard not to love. Which is why you're having a hard time responding, because how could you even possibly begin to explain just how much you love her?

Mel begins to grow withdrawn, those small anxieties nipping away at her mind. Did you not feel the same way? Had she embarrassed herself with her little display? Did she ruin this relationship in one phrase? She takes a step away from you, wondering if she should take her leave.

Thankfully before than can happen, you've caught her wrist and meet her eyes.

"I love you, too." A breath of relief leaves you both. "Mel, I... I can't even begin to explain, I mean, it's just that you... god, you, you definitely deserve a better response than this mess but, I mean it, truly. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I'll always- I'll always love you."

"Darling..." Mel started to feel flustered, your earnest rambling getting her cool and collected persona to crack a little. "I get it."

"Right, sorr-" Before you can apologize for your cute, anxious rambling, Mel shuts you up with a kiss. Something that symbolizes that you both understand just how much you both mean to each other.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

SEVIKA

Sevika can't help but crack a smile at your antics sometimes. She's watching you with a close eye as you dance in an exaggerated way, being goofy in a way that's so very rare in the undercity. She shakes her head as you sit in the seat across from her, wiggling your brows. "Dance with me?"

"Not a chance in hell." She snorts, "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me." Sevika takes a drink, not noticing what she said. You, on the other hand, have gone still. "What's wrong with you now?" She asks, already exasperated.

"You love me?"

"What're you-... Shit." She definitely didn't mean to say that, but now that it's out there, she might as well commit. She downs the rest of her drink, clears her throat, and looks away from you.

"And if I do? Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all- I love you, too!" Your enthusiasm has her taken aback once more. She looks at you incredulously, searching your face for any sign of lying or messing with her. She finds nothing but genuine love. Shit, shit, shit. Sevika was so totally unsure on how to handle this.

"You love me, huh?" When you nod, eagerly, Sevika bites her cheek. Well... She supposes if it's you, she could try and give it a shot. "I guess, yeah, I do love you... so... what're we gonna do about that?"

You had a few ideas.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VIKTOR

"Yes, yes, I understand." Viktor says as he wraps the scarf you gifted him around his neck. "I'll be back tonight for dinner, not to worry." You don't really believe him when he says that, still you help him zip up his winter coat.

"If you're not," You say, taking a step closer, your lips hovering over his. "I'll personally drag you back here." Your lips meet his and he hums into the kiss, pulling away with a small smile.

"I'll be here." You just hum dismissively. You'll believe when you see it. He rolls his eyes at your sass, opening the door and stepping out. "Alright, I'll see you then. Goodbye, I love you." He closes the door, and just as quickly he's trying to pry it back open.

You're laughing your ass off on the other side of the door whilst Viktor's ears turn red. "Dear, please, open the door, I forgot my keys... and I need to say those words properly..." he groans, his head resting against the door. After a few seconds, the clicks unlock and it opens to reveal you, tears in your eyes from laughing.

"This is not funny."

"It's a little funny." You tease, handing Viktor his keys. "I lov-"

"Wait," He halts you. "Let me... Let me say it properly." His blush moves from his ears to his cheeks. He takes your hand and presses a sweet kiss to it, looking up at you through his lashes. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Viktor."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VI

You're patching her up after a particularly brutal beating. Her job, these missions, can get pretty violent, and it's always up to you to heal her wounds. 'I don't trust any other doctor,' she explains before you inform her that you are not a doctor. Despite that she still finds you after every fight she gets herself in.

You sigh, cleaning a nasty cut on her face. "You've got to be more careful." You tsk, reveling in the way she hisses at the disinfectant. It's what she deserves after scaring you to death all these times.

"Worried 'bout my pretty face?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at her.

"More like your brain- I'm afraid you can't afford to lose anymore braincells." She laughs at your snark. She likes that about you, likes everything about you, actually. Her hands find your waist, pulling you closer to her. You huff, pulling back to get a better look at her wounds.

"Hey," Vi calls, and you just hum in response. "I love you." You freeze, before looking down at her with wide eyes.

"Did you actually get brain damage-" She bites back another laugh, shaking her head. "Vi...?"

"I love you. Have for a while, so no, this isn't a brain damage confession." Oh. You falter for a second, hands shaky as you finish placing the band-aid on her cheek.

"If you're messing with me-"

"I'm not." She insists, earnest in her affections. "So... Do you-"

"Yes." You mumble, turning your face to hide it from her. "I... Love you, too, Violet."

[jinkiezzsstuff]

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

~

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

[gold-onthe-inside]

debriefing

v. def. the systematic questioning of individuals to procure information to answer specific collection requirements by direct and indirect questioning techniques.

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: the one where you finally confront the thing between you and spencer content warnings: none word count: 2.5k

You couldn’t sleep, restlessly turning in bed as flashes of Spencer torment you - vaguely remembering his hand on your ankle as he slid your heels off, kneeling in front of you with his hands grasping yours, his firm grip on your arm, his hand on your lower back, guiding you downstairs. “The team knows that my priority is you.”

You feel like a teenager trying to decipher whether a boy likes you. More importantly, you have to go back to work in 5 hours, and if he doesn’t like you the way you think he does, then there’s no point losing sleep over it. A wave of frustration washes over you, stuffing a pillow in your face as if that could remove the imprint Spencer’s made on your brain.

The pillow falls to the side, leaving you staring at the ceiling with a desire to kill or kiss Spencer, and since neither of those were options to you, you did the next best thing. You knocked on the partition between Penelope’s room and the living room. She had dragged you through Lord knew how many thrift stores and flea markets to put together this magical room that was a cross between Turkish royalty and California in the 60s. The woman, your best friend, bless her heart, woke up with a slight grumble, pushing the unicorn kitty eye mask up (apparently it reduced dark circles, and seeing as she didn’t have any while you were left to suffer, it must work) to attend to your distress.

“Honey, it’s 2 in the morning, can we talk about this in daylight?” Penelope asked, her saccharine voice a soft rumble in her sleep.

“It’s about Reid,” you said, hearing how pathetic you sounded, standing on the step to the raised platform that led to her bedroom. But it seemed to perk her up, and she got up faster than you’ve ever seen her wake in the 10 years you’ve known her.

“I’ll put on a pot of tea,” she announced, moving to the kitchen.

“I-I don’t need tea,” you said uselessly to the whirlwind you called your roommate, trudging across the floor to the kitchen.

“Do you even remember the last time you came to me with boy problems?” Penelope asked you, grabbing her teapot and dropping bags of masala chai in it before setting it to boil on the stove while you parse through your memory, coming up empty. “That’s right. Never. Not once in the entire history of our friendship have you ever come to me about a boy,” Penelope continued and you sink into a seat on the bar stool.

“Because there’s never been anyone worth talking about,” you replied, rubbing your face. “God, how did I let this happen?”

“Let what happen?” Penelope asked, sitting next to you.

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “I don’t lose sleep over guys, and it’s like Spencer just… snuck up on me and now he just lives in my brain or something.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes, it’s horrible and embarrassing and—”

“You really like him,” Penelope finished for you, watching your hands fall to the kitchen island.

“I really like him,” you admitted, letting out a disgruntled sigh as you dropped your head into your hands.

“Sweetie, it’s okay,” Penelope assured you, trying not to laugh as she rubbed your back. “And for what it’s worth, he’s a really good guy. A little nuts, but a really good guy.”

“He’s not nuts,” you muttered and Penelope really wants to laugh. The idea of you defending a boy from Penelope’s words was such a far stretch from who you were as a person…

“He also really likes you,” Penelope told you, tilting her head to try and find your eyes. “Seriously, he was hounding me the other day asking if you were into that Jack Ryan-esque new guy or not.”

“He was hounding you?” you asked, looking up with a skeptical brow.

“As in took up residence in my office until I gave it up,” Penelope clarified and you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as the teapot whistled. You watched as Penelope poured you a cup of tea with a little milk, just the way you like it.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” you asked, taking the cup and slowly spinning it as you waited for it to cool. “I don’t want to have to avoid him forever. Or put you in a weird position with me and him.”

“What if it does work out and you fall in love and have adorable genius babies?” Penelope countered, making you furrow your brow.

“That sounds so much scarier,” you muttered and she sighed.

“Look, sweetie, as much as it pains me to admit it, he makes you the happiest I’ve ever seen you,” Penelope told you. “Seriously, I have video footage.”

“Delete it,” you tell her immediately, putting on your most serious face, but after 10 years, she’s grown immune.

“You’ll never find it,” she sings, sipping her tea. You suck your cheek in, staring at your tea.

“So… what, I just… tell him?” you asked and you looked so clueless that Penelope had to giggle just a little. “Don’t laugh.”

“I swear to God, you two are so meant for each other, it’s written in the stars,” Penelope said, laughing. “Yes, baby doll, you tell him. Because Lord knows he’s not gonna tell you. He’s been dancing around his feelings so long, he could be Kevin Bacon in Footloose.”

“But I don’t want to,” you protested childishly. “Can’t I just ignore it?”

“Not if you want to sleep at night,” Penelope said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear and you pursed your lips.

“I hate this.”

“Yeah, that’s what being in love is,” she replied. “Welcome, it sucks.” You hummed, disgruntled, and sipped your tea.

You’re close to clocking out for the day when Penelope’s heels clack against linoleum, rapidly approaching your cubicle. “The time is now,” she hissed and you frowned immediately, pressing the back of your hand to her temple.

“Are you okay?” you asked and Penelope shook her head.

“Morgan’s setting Reid up on a double date, I couldn’t talk him out of it,” Penelope said rapidly.

“Wait, what?” you asked and Penelope growled in frustration, pulling you out of your desk and towards the elevators.

“You remember the blonde girl who worked with us last year, her father was a serial killer, she transferred to Swann’s unit? Ashley?”

“Yeah,” you said hesitantly. You’d helped Penelope bake cupcakes for Ashley’s graduation from the Academy — and swatted Kevin when he tried to swipe more than he was given.

“Yeah, well, Morgan’s got a date to this Hitchcock Festival, and he wanted to make it a double date—”

“Why? Double dates suck,” you interrupted, completely missing the point and Penelope shook your shoulder.

“Do you hear the words coming out of my mouth? Spencer is going on a date and it’s not with you.”

Passers-by look at the two of you strangely before walking off and you pressed the button to the lift in an attempt to look normal.

“So what?” you asked half-heartedly. “I’m sure Ashley’s a great person.”

Penelope looked like she wanted to pry open the lift doors and throw you down the shaft. “Her father is the Redmond Ripper, is that what you want for Spencer? For his future father-in-law to be a serial killer?” she demanded, the last few words coming out as a hiss and your lips part. Words, you remind yourself.

“It wouldn’t go that far,” you said, sounding weak even to yourself as you both step inside the lift.

“You don’t know that,” Penelope retorted. “Maybe they go on one date, maybe two. Next thing you know, he’s asking Charles Beauchamp for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You’ve just been following Penelope’s lead, and it doesn’t strike you that you’re headed to the BAU until the lift opens again and you’re standing face to face with half the team. Spencer’s brow furrowed as he recognised you, JJ glancing at Penelope curiously and Derek grinning at the both of you.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Derek asked, with a lot more charm and casualness than Spencer could have mustered.

There’s a shove from behind you, Penelope pushing you out as she chirped. “She wants to talk to you,” she said, ambivalent to your horrified expression as she pointed at Spencer.

“Me?” he asked, meek and slightly alarmed, going through every interaction of the past 7 years to check if he’d done something wrong. Derek and JJ shared a glance, with every intention to stay and listen, until Penelope pulled them both inside the lift.

“Bye!” she chirped, immune to your glare, waving as the lift closed. You stared at the lift, your escape route disappearing before your eyes, Spencer’s glued to you. His fingers drummed on the belt of his satchel, lips pursed in anticipation, heart hammering in his chest as you take a breath and look at him. Of course he had to wear purple today.

“Um… Penelope said you were going on a date,” you started slowly, hands sliding into your pockets despite your sweaty palms.

“Yeah, Morgan kind of roped me into it,” Spencer said, his expression turning pained. “We had this practical joke war and the truce agreement means I have to go on a double date with him. It’s a… whole thing, what did you want to talk about?”

You sucked your cheek in, a telltale sign that something was making you anxious. “So… you don’t want to go on the date?” you asked, tentative and Spencer furrowed his brow.

“Not… enthusiastically, but Seaver’s- I mean, Ashley’s nice, so…”

“But you don’t like her,” you reasoned slowly, gauging his responses so analytically that you could have your own desk here.

“I don’t not like her?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling more and more as the conversation went on.

“Right,” you said quietly, having run out of questions. “Cool, so… I’m gonna go. Have fun on your… date?”

He’s never seen you this unsettled, this flustered, especially around him, and cute as it is, it worried him, his hand reaching out to nudge your elbow before you could run off. “Are you okay?” he asked, deeply concerned.

“Yeah, no, Penelope’s just… um…” You closed your eyes, took a breath, and internally went, Fuck it. “If you don’t like her, don’t go,” you said, looking at him again. Bad decision. You really want to kiss him.

“Okay… But I kind of already agreed to go,” Spencer said, shifting where he stood nervously.

“I… I don’t want you to go,” you said, hoping he would extrapolate the meaning, but of course he doesn’t. He just narrows his eyes in confusion.

“You don’t—”

“I’m asking you not to go,” you insisted, your heart in your throat. You might actually cry if he goes anyway. A beat passed, Spencer just looking into your pleading eyes.

“Okay,” he said eventually, moving to press the lift button, and it’s your turn to frown.

“Okay? That’s it? I asked you not to go and you’re not going?”

“Pretty much,” he replied casually, moving to call up the lift. “Besides, Hitchcock movies don’t really have the same appeal after you know who the murderer is. I mean, it’s nice to appreciate the cinematography of the whole thing, but once you know who the killer in Psycho is, there’s only so many times you can rewatch it before it becomes predictable. Now, if it was something like a novel, that’s a different story, because literature can be interpreted so many ways, and Arthur Conan Doyle still appeals after the third or fourth time you read—”

“You’re not going?” you repeated, standing there, completely struck by him and he looked at you, as though puzzled that you were still stuck on it.

“You told me not to,” he said, concerned again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His hand flitted up to press against your temple and you freezed, his hand drifting down to your neck to check your pulse, which fluttered when he touched it.

“Why would you just… I mean, how can you just listen to me like that?” you managed to ask and he dropped his hand, slightly amused.

“You’re impossible, you know that,” he said, the lift opening and he waited for you to get in first, his arm keeping it open. “I mean, I don’t listen to you, you argue with me. I listen to you, and you’re still arguing with me. Is there any way to win with you?”

You ignored the easy avenue into a catfight, still looking at him. “She could be the love of your life and you’re just not gonna go because I—”

“She’s not,” he said, his voice plain and firm. “Will you get in so I don’t have to hold this forever?”

“You don’t know that she’s not,” you continued, frowning at him. “She could be the woman you spend your life with—”

“She’s not,” he said again, just as firmly as before. Fact. Not opinion. Not doubt. He looked at you intently, your throat moving as you swallow, not that there’s anything there with your mouth completely dried out.

She’s not the love of his life.

The team knows that my priority is you.

Whatever happens next, I am here. I won’t leave, not unless you ask me to.

You have people. Even if you can’t see them.

How many times had he told you how he felt without saying it? “I’m such an idiot,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I have no business calling myself an intelligence analyst when you…” He frowned at you as you trailed off, still holding the stupid lift open. Penelope was right. All along, she was right. You crossed the foot between the two of you. “Spencer Reid, will you go out with me?” you asked, your voice calm, finally finding yourself on even footing with him. “Properly, I mean. On a date.” No more cryptic codes to decipher, no more dancing around each other. Everything had been decoded, deciphered, plain to see.

“I…” He blinked at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked, almost in disbelief, then checked down the hall like someone was watching him.

“Not a practical joke, I promise,” you said, your heart settling back in your chest. “We could get a drink, see a movie, I couldn’t care less what we do, I just… Spencer, I like you. A lot. And if you don’t want to, which, I mean, fair enough, your call, but—”

He crosses whatever gap is left between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours and grasping your jaw and your hands emerge from your pockets, holding his waist as he takes your breath away. His fingers threaded into your hair, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and you kissed him back, pulling away only when your lungs ached for air. His eyes are bright and dilated when he looked down at you, lights glittering in his clear gaze. “I want to,” he murmured, a slight rasp. “Very much.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

pkay! so i was wondering if u could do a jace x reader where after the funeral she takes him and comforts him and looks after him in the bedroom to help him calm down because he had to act strong infront of his family but in the contents of his own chambers he could let himself cry on them!

Another one for Jace because this scene broke us all. This will be the last one about this scene. I have written three versions of different moments, I think all has been said

Warnings: mention of death, grief, panic attack

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You stood alongside Rhaena and Baela during the funeral. Behind you stood Corlys and Rhaenys, all mourning the loss of Lucerys. 

Along with the remains she found on the shore, the Queen threw in the pyre her son’s clothes. Jacaerys stepped up next and threw the baby swaddle their mother used when he was a baby. And lastly, Jacaerys picked up Joffrey, who threw the horse toy Lucerys had when he was little. It had been handed to him when he grew out of playing with it, but it was still Lucerys’.

Your heart ached at how Joffrey clung to his big brother, who himself had his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. You wanted to go up to him and hold his hand, but the time was not right. 

When the flames of the pyre finally extinguished, everyone retreated inside. The Queen had withdrawn to her chambers with her youngest sons. Losing one had only intensified her need to keep the others close.

Your eyes searched the hall for the one who was promised to you, but Jacaerys was nowhere in sight. To your left, you noticed Rhaena and Baela, who had just parted from their grandmother. You approached them, and Rhaena, who had lost her betrothed, welcomed you with a brief but heartfelt hug.

‘’Have you seen Jacaerys?’’ you asked them.

Rhaena shook her head, but Baela nodded. ‘’I saw him taking the stairs minutes ago.’’

You thanked her and followed her lead. 

Upstairs, you knew exactly where to go. 

Inside your chamber, you found Jacaerys pacing the room with frantic steps, one of his hands gripping his chest. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and his face contorted with panic. He pulled at his doublet, feeling like it was choking him and stopping air from getting into his lungs. 

You rushed to his side, alarmed. ‘’Jace,’’ you called out, your voice tinged with concern and confusion.

His head snapped in your direction, his face filled with fear and tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what was happening, and neither did you. 

‘’Should I fetch the maester?’’ you asked, your heart clenching with worry.

‘’It... hurts... can't breathe…’’ he managed to gasp, his voice strained with desperation. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, as if the air was somehow refusing to fill his lungs.

Jacaerys pulled at his doublet again. 

You tried to remain calm, knowing that panic would only make the situation worse. You reached out and undid the buttons on the front of his doublet, hoping to loosen the constriction around his chest. But even as the tight fabric released its grip, it didn’t seem to help. His chest continued to heave and shudder, each breath sounding like a painful struggle.

‘’Let’s sit.’’ 

He nodded, his eyes wide with fear as he allowed you to guide him to the settee. With every step, his breathing only seemed to get more and more erratic, each gasp sounding like a strangled sob.

Once he was seated, you knelt in front of him, your hands gently gripping his trembling ones, offering what little comfort you could. His chest continued to rise and fall rapidly, each breath sounding as if it was being wrenched from his lungs. His eyes were fixed on you, panic still evident in his gaze, but there was also a glimpse of vulnerability there, as if he was silently pleading for your help.

It was heart-wrenching to see him in such a state, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely shattered.

You squeezed his hands gently, hoping to offer some small comfort. ‘’Focus on me,’’ you urged him, your voice soft but firm. ‘’Listen to my voice. Try to match your breaths to mine. Inhale.’’ You breathed in deeply, exaggerating each inhalation and exhalation, hoping that Jacaerys would follow your lead. ‘’Exhale. In through your nose, out through your mouth.’’

He tried, his eyes locked onto your face as you breathed in and out. At first, his breaths only seemed to become more shallow and labored, but gradually, they began to match the pace of yours. Each gasped inhalation slowly started to become less frantic and more controlled.

After a moment, he calmed down and you wiped his tears. 

‘’Thank you for helping me. I don’t know how this happened. I…I thought I was going to die.’’

You rose to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. 

He buried his face in your shoulder, still shaking from the intensity of the experience. He wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you tightly, as if holding on for dear life. 

‘’I was so scared,’’ he whispered, his voice still shaky and raw. ‘’I thought I was losing control. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think... It was like everything was closing in on me.’’

You held him tightly, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. His body was warm and solid against yours, his muscles tense with lingering fear.

You hushed gently, kissing his shoulder. ‘’You're okay now. You're safe with me.’’ 

—

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[ateezlibrary]

𝔯𝔲𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔢 (m) • 𝗃𝗒𝗁

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: noble!yunho x princess!reader

𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌/𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 18+ (mdni), smut with plot, historical au, forbidden attraction, forced proximity, power dynamics, loooots of tension, arranged marriage to mingi (we don't like him)

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 4.8k

synopsis: with your kingdom at risk, your parents devise a grand plan to have you arranged to be wed to the rival kingdom's son. in an effort to demonstrate peace, you and prince mingi are required to attend a ball (spoiler alert: it doesn't go well). a desperate need to escape sends you straight into yunho's arms.

notes: hi y'all. haven't been on this account for a while and i do have a handful of requests to get through, but i did want to get this up here for a friend of mine! feel free to continue submitting scenario/fic requests that i can ponder on. :-) enjoy!

The hand in mine is cold, unfeeling as fingers lace around mine in a feeble attempt to demonstrate some semblance of a happy couple. The gesture is robotic, one that leads me to roll my eyes as I nimbly clasp his hand in response. At the bottom of the staircase, the grand hall is filled to the brim with nobility from across the kingdoms, each of them striving to out-dress the next as they glide around marbled floors in decadent gowns and suits. My free hand dangles at my side, fingers clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release the nerves of entering with my suitor for the night.

“Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice devoid of any affection as he pulls me along with him to notify the guard of our arrival. The younger uniformed man nods once, capturing the attention of the parties beneath us as he bangs his staff against the ground twice.

“His Highness, Prince Song Mingi, along with the Princess of the Southern Kingdom of Jeonsu.”

And so, the whispers commence. Hushed voices commenting on what we were wearing, on how we looked together, how Song Mingi held my hand in his. Along comes a certain myriad of comments on how our kings and queens despised one another and how I was a stranger in their territory. Like clockwork, Mingi utilizes his court training well, guiding me down the grand staircase with my hand now on his arm. I hold my head high, against the scoffs from the foreign nobility and keep my eyes fixated on a particularly dazzling chandelier.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar presence standing watch from a towering marble pillar near the far end of the room. A head of tousled brunette hair, wide brown eyes, a tall frame donning a well-fitted sapphire suit. He offers me a small smile of encouragement, one that makes my heart flutter for the slightest of moments before I follow Mingi’s guide to the bottom of the staircase. We bow before the crowd expecting us, the orchestra returning to its waltz.

Mingi looks down at me, and I blink back up at him in silent question.

Despite the lack of love, there was an understanding between us. Neither of us enjoyed the arrangement we’d found ourselves in. Neither of us enjoyed being born into kingdoms split into centuries-long rivalry, or being used as political pawns to secure peace between lands. Yet, here we were, dressed to the nines in an attempt to save face.

“I’m going to speak with Lord Taeho,” he states. “Will you be—”

“I’ll be fine,” I interrupt, bowing my head and gliding to a corner of the room where I could remain as unseen as possible. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed me. I was no stranger to public scrutiny, but it was more apparent coming from people that were not my own. I settle into one of the gilded chairs at the end of the room where a handful of women were gathered to gossip. They seemed to be close in age, not much older than I was.

“I can’t imagine how Prince Mingi has gotten into this predicament,” one whispers all-too-loudly, her kohl-lined feline eyes darting between her friends and where I sat. “I knew Jeonsu was suffering from trade route closures, but a marriage?”

“I agree, it’s a dramatic attempt for them to claim our power as their own.”

“And, our prince.”

I roll my eyes, gratefully taking one of the champagne flutes from the offering waitstaff that floated by. Focusing more intently than ever on the bubbles that cling to the glass, I try to block out the sound of their scrutiny when a friendlier voice interjects.

“All by your lonesome?” he asks, and I turn to a bright-eyed Yunho that is looking down at me with hands in his pockets. His smile is charming, etched across his face in a warm welcome much unlike the others around him.

I shrug in response with a smile of my own, gesturing to the room with a wave of my hand. “I believe my betrothed is working the room, it would seem.”

Yunho’s gaze follows Mingi around the hall in a shared silence. Ever since the arrangement had been made between the kingdoms, Yunho had served as the prince’s right-hand man in assisting with my move to their palace. Unlike the rest of the awful personas in this kingdom, Yunho was a breath of fresh air. He spoke with emotion, passion that was unrivaled by the cold, harsh demeanors of the rest of the palace staff scared straight and the royal family that was all-too-hard to read.

“Look, now she’s quick to seduce the rest of our nobles,” another scoffs from the circle adjacent, the rest tittering in response.

“I can worry about myself,” I snap at them, already tired of their comments despite only just arriving. “I’d suggest you not gossip. It’s awfully unbecoming of you.”

Each of them grow pale, wide eyes blinking back at me in surprise that I refused to take their harassment in silence. They leave their seats almost immediately, hurrying deeper into the hall where other socialites awaited. Beside me, Yunho stifles a laugh as I rub at my temple.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” I scorn. Swallowing down the rest of my drink, I’m about to wave over the waitstaff to receive another when Mingi approaches me with a raised eyebrow.

“What just happened over here?” he asks harshly, eyes narrowed into slits.

“What?” I ask, gesturing to the gaggle of women that crowded near the refreshments table where Mingi once was. “The socialites of this kingdom can’t be told that they have no right to criticize another royal?”

“These are my people,” he barks, and I roll my eyes.

“As if they’re not practically about to be mine.”

“Hey,” Yunho attempts to interject, sensing the rising tension between the pair of us as he nervously runs a hand through his brunette hair. “Let’s not—”

“I’m not the one forcing you to marry me,” Mingi snaps in a hushed whisper, his jaw clenched as I rise from my seat to meet his glare.

“And yet, you find it your duty to parent me while we’re here.”

“Just leave,” is all Mingi replies, turning his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with every measured breath, glancing over at me one last time with daggers in his eyes as he returns to mingling with his people.

His people. They would never be mine. This would never work.

My people would continue to suffer.

Suddenly, the room felt much too small. The towering pillars were suddenly too large, the floor too slick. The orchestra playing its waltz fought with the barrage of thoughts running through my mind, leaving little space for me to hear the muffled sound of Yunho asking if I was all right.

It was getting harder to breathe, the corset of my gown growing tighter with each breath. In desperate need of fresh air, I ran straight for the tall oak doors at the far end of the ballroom and into the courtyard with heaving gasps. My skin crawled from the desperate need to get out of sight. Glancing wildly around the gardens, I opted for the observatory at the other end of the palace grounds and hiked my gown with my hands as I darted across the cool grass.

* * *

I’d been sat in the glass-topped dome for what felt like an eternity, mindfully observing each star above and the rows of books that lined the walls around me. Much unlike the ballroom, the observatory was quiet. I’d not been familiar with the kingdom’s palace, only having visited a few times. Nonetheless, I remembered the observatory clearly, recounting it from when Yunho had first guided me on a tour of the grounds. I admired it for its exclusion from the main palace halls, tucked away in its own solace—much like I needed in this moment.

As my mind cleared, I sighed with the recognition that I’d have to answer a lot of questions when I’d returned—where I went, why I left, why I abandoned Prince Mingi in such a public setting. Questions I refused to think of answers for right this second.

The gilded iron doors to the observatory creak open and I turn in a panic, eyes wide as I prepare to back into one of the rows of bookshelves and make myself small.

Taking sight of Yunho, relief washes over me and I sigh, lowering my hand that clutched the front of my corset and slumping back into the sapphire velvet sofa that sat under the stars. He raises an eyebrow, almost as if he’s surprised to have found me here.

“Well, this is one place to hide,” he answers, his voice low as he locks the door behind him and saunters over to me. I look up at him wearily, silently grateful for his company in such a lonely palace. “Mingi asked that I look for you.”

“I don’t imagine that he asked you to do so right when I stormed off.”

“Well—no,” he replies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “He actually hadn’t noticed for quite some time. I would have come immediately, but I assume you needed the space.”

A sudden bout of thunder rolls through the skies above, causing us both to crane our heads up towards the flashes of lightning that follow soon after. 

“Great. Now even the heavens hate me for being uncooperative.” I bury my face in my hands with a muffled groan, and Yunho lets out a laugh—a strange sound in a place like this. He lowers onto his haunches before me, gently taking my hands away from my face and holding my chin in his.

“Chin up, now,” he scolds, and I offer a feeble smile in response. “It’s a lot of responsibility weighing on your shoulders. Both you and Mingi. There’s a lot of change happening, and I imagine it’s not easy.”

He stares at me for just a second too long, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as I shift my gaze back to the now turbulent weather outside.

“Seems like you brought the rain with you,” I joke evasively, gesturing to the glass panels and settling back into the sofa, knees hugged to my chest beneath the billowing gown. Yunho glances up in response, nodding once as he leans against the desk across from me with his legs crossed. Large hands crane over the edge of the desk, drumming his fingertips to fill the silence amidst the storm brewing.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get back for a while,” Yunho admits. “Though, at least you’re accounted for.”

“I suppose,” I nod and reach before me to pat the plush velvet. “No need to stand around. Come sit.”

As Yunho sits beside me, legs outstretched before him and hands behind his head, I take the opportunity to drink him in silently. He’d been my only real companion throughout the arrangement with Mingi so far. The only one that didn’t look at me with distaste or treat me as an inconvenience in a larger political ploy. We’d grown to become friends of sort in the past several weeks, able to joke and tell stories and simply be … human, if only for a little while.

Given the circumstances, I’d be a fool to not find him attractive in the grand scheme of things.

The thought instantly churns guilt at the pit of my stomach. I had no right to be attracted to him. He was the prince’s right-hand man. He was kind and amenable, qualities that were needed for such a job. He knew the predicament I was in with the arranged marriage. He was no stranger to playing his part.

“You’re really lost in thought tonight, aren’t you?” he pokes, chuckling as I blink the thoughts away and struggle to come up with a hasty excuse.

“Trying to find something to do to pass time while we’re in here,” I utter, averting his gaze that now seemed darker under the thunderous sky. “Maybe we should look at these …”

And so, time passes with us prodding through ancient maps, travel journals and court documents that span across the walls of the library. The storm rolls on, growing stronger and sealing the observatory off from the rest of the palace. Enough time goes by where I begin to feel constricted by the corset of my dress, and I refuse to mention it to Yunho until he notices for himself.

“Are you all right?” he asks, setting aside the journal in hand and taking note of the way that my breathing had grown labored. “Do you feel well?”

“I-I’m fine,” I lie, absentmindedly craning a hand behind me to tug at the lacing unsuccessfully. “Just—ah …”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, standing before me as his eyes scan over me oh, so slowly.

“It’s just—the corset,” I admit finally, cheeks flushed from a combination of remorse and the restriction of the boned fabric. “It gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“Oh,” Yunho answers, and realization dawns on him. “Oh.” He raises his eyebrows, stammering for a moment before forming a coherent sentence. “If you need to loosen it, please don’t feel ashamed. I rather you not pass out on me than worry about your dress being improper.”

“Thanks for that,” I reply hastily, struggling to reach a hand to the lacing crossed at my back. “I would have if I could reach the fasteners.”

“I can help,” Yunho volunteers almost immediately, and I can’t help but scoff at his enthusiasm that he quickly corrects. “I-I mean, if you need me to.”

“I do.”

With a soft smile of my own, I keep as calm as possible as he approaches me from behind, fingers outstretched and awaiting permission. The warmth from his body radiates onto mine, melding any coherent thoughts in my mind as I silently punish myself for noticing the feeling. Yunho requires no guidance as he threads his fingers through the lacing, unweaving the tight restraints as I finally feel the pressure release from my chest.

The corset expands loosely around my ribcage, forcing me to grip at its hem to prevent it from slipping. I turn, suddenly realizing that Yunho is much closer than I’d realized. He looks down at me, hand still lingering on my waist from where he finished helping me to come undone. The light in his eyes is gone, replaced with a kind of hunger I hadn’t seen in them before.

“Is that better?” he asks in a hushed voice. His voice crawls along my skin, and suddenly I’m all too aware of every inch of my skin and every hair that stands on end. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, watching as his trail down to my lips, my waist.

“Yes,” I whisper under the sounds of the storm outside.

The storm that isolates us from the rest of the kingdom. From any judgment, from our roles as bride-to-be and the prince’s confidante.

Yunho seems to notice this as well, his hand moving from my waist to lift my chin. He brushes his thumb against my cheek tantalizingly slow, a gasp slipping past my lips as I lean into his touch. An unspoken attraction dances around us, one that he fights against with great restraint as he pulls his hand away with a sigh. Even so, his lips are just mere inches from mine.

“We can’t,” he scolds softly, an obvious strain in his voice.

My mind races with filthy thoughts, suddenly wild at the idea of succumbing to the most carnal desires that ran between us in that moment. To hear him moan, have his hands around my throat.

But we can’t.

“Why not?” I urge in what almost sounds like a cry for help. My hands release the corset, the fabric now slouching dangerously low. Yunho’s eyes dart to the way it slips lower and lower, sitting just beneath my cleavage as a strangled breath slips past his lips.

“You are to be my princess,” he answers, “and I answer to the prince. There are lines I can’t cross.” He swallows. “No matter how tempting.”

Realization dawns on me as I arch an eyebrow, backing onto the sofa again just behind us. Crossing my legs, I pretend to not notice his hungry gaze as the fabric of the dress billows around me, eyes locked onto his as I let out a dry laugh.

“So, you are at the whim of the prince? Is that correct?” He nods once, eyes unmoving. “And I am to marry the prince, am I not?”

He nods again.

“Then you are under my command as much as you are under his.” His gaze shifts frantically to meet mine, confusion etched onto his face for a brief moment as he finally understands my suggestion. The thought of wielding power over the man before me ignited a certain kind of flame under my skin, one that crept along my veins and churned at my core. I leaned back into the plush velvet as a newfound confidence overcomes me. “Won’t you be a loyal subject to me?”

“I—” Yunho seems to wrestle something within himself for a brief moment, lowering himself onto a knee and bowing before me. As he lifts his head, his eyes sparkle with a desperate, silent plea. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then ruin me,” I command, taking his chin in my hand the way he did mine not long before. “Ravage me as if I were a common whore, right now.” My words are breathless, betraying the way I yearned to exercise control over the man on his knees before me.

“Is that what you want?” he asks tentatively, pressing a hand over mine as he lowers his gaze to the ground.

“That is an order.”

Save for the rain that thrums against the confines of the observatory, the room falls silent amidst the sound of our breathing. Yunho slides his hand down to my wrist, pausing for a moment before tightening his grip around it and shoving me back into the sofa. He’s almost unrecognizable, the gentle playfulness in his features completely replaced by a maniacal desire. His grin is lopsided as his other hand reaches for my waist, urging me against the cushions as he hovers over me.

Lowering his head to the crook of my neck, the breathy laugh that escapes from him sends a vibration down my spine, breath hitched in my throat. He traces the tip of his tongue tantalizingly slow from my collarbone to just behind my ear, and the sensation forces me to arch my back against his restraint with a soft gasp.

“Ruin you?” he asks, fingers pressing deeper into my waist. “Have you drunk off of my cock and writhing at the way it feels when I touch you, fill you up?”

My breath comes in shallow, ragged breaths as my eyes flutter shut. Whatever had overcome Yunho was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him—the gentle, kind boy I’d come to befriend. This was a monster of sorts, ravenous and insatiable. His hand snakes to my hair, pulling it back with a forceful yank so that I was forced to look at him.

“Is that what you want, princess?”

“I—” Words escape me as I pant, eyebrows furrowed at the ache rising between my legs.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out, meeting his gaze.

“Good girl.”

Releasing his grip on my now tousled hair, Yunho presses his fingers into my cheeks, forcing my lips apart as he lowers himself to spit in my mouth. I gasp as the string of saliva slides down my tongue, swallowing it with an obedient whimper. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, every touch from him electrifying. The way he causes me to react earns a scoff as he straightens himself to pull the restrictive gown off of my body.

The night air caresses my skin, every pore raised from the cold mixed with hungry anticipation. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with each breath as he reaches to roll the sleeves of his dress shirt. Lowering himself back onto his knees, he yanks me towards the edge of the sofa, now bare before him. Color creeps to my cheeks, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as he tuts at the sight of me already dripping under his touch.

“Shy now, are we?” he lilts, broad hands holding my thighs apart as he drinks in every sight of me. I whimper under his touch, weak in my attempt to pull my legs back together. “I want to see exactly how I make you feel.” Extending a hand upwards, he pries my mouth open again with two fingers, relishing in the way I latch onto them like clockwork. Now coated with saliva, he groans at the sound as he slips them back out of my mouth and towards my cunt.

“Hold steady now, pretty girl.”

With painfully slow pressure, he presses his fingers against my clit. The sensation overwhelms me, and it’s only then that I realize how desperate I was to be under his touch. He traces circles languidly, peppering kisses along the inside of my thigh. My body jerks and quivers under him, and I bite my tongue to conceal the lewd plea that was about to escape me. In one swift motion, he dips his tongue between my folds in long, greedy strokes.

“Oh—” I cry out in surprise, grabbing at his hair as he buries his tongue deeper into me. Yunho hums in disapproval, pinning my wrists to either side of me as he quickens his pace. A familiar knot begins to build at my core, one that ebbs and flows as he flicks his tongue against my clit. Pleasure clouds my mind as my vision blurs, my chest heaving with the impending climax.

Just as I’m about to surrender, he stops.

My protests are silenced before they escape, Yunho finding a seat beside me on the sofa and pulling me towards him so that one of my legs is draped over his, on full display for him once more. He slides his fingers back between my folds, pumping them vigorously as I let out a string of moans. His free hand slips around me, wrapping around my neck so that I was pressed firmly against his chest.

“You sound delicious,” he mewls, his grip tightening around my neck as I struggle to maintain my posture. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear those noises come out of that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“P-Please, Yunho,” I beg—actually beg—as the wave begins to rise in my stomach for the second time. “I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he coaxes, pulling me back against him with his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. Slipping his fingers out of me, he brings them back to my mouth. Craning my head to the side, my eyes lock on his as he relishes in the way I taste myself off of his fingers.

He lifts my leg off of his, opting to pick me up and spread me across the desk across from the sofa with an animalistic groan. Yunho’s eyes never leave mine as he unfastens the buckle on his belt, leaning over me again to wrap my wrists between the leather and loop it through the latch on the desk drawer above my head. I raise an eyebrow at how quickly it was done, leaning into the observation.

“I take it you’ve done this before?” I pry, and he lets out another dark chuckle.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admits, lips curling into a sensual grin. He reaches to pull his cock free from his trousers, gazing over at me with hooded eyes. I watch as he runs his hand along his length, the sight fueling a burning pain between my legs. Friction did little to ease the ache, earning a scoff from Yunho at the way I pathetically fought to rub my thighs together.

“So eager,” he chides, his hand’s pace quickening as his own breathing grows ragged. “Can’t I look at you for just a while longer? You look so pretty like this.”

“Just fuck me,” I order, knees lifted as I drag my heels on the desk’s surface. He raises an eyebrow, dropping his hand so that he could place his palms on either side of my head. His voice is low, alluring as I feel the weight of his erection press into my core. The thought of his cock covered in me causes me to groan, wrists jerking against their restraints.

“How do you think your prince would like knowing that I defiled his darling bride-to-be?” he asks, biting down on my collarbone and earning a drawn-out moan in response. “Begging me to fuck her?”

“I don’t care,” I plead hastily, nearly at the brink of tears out of sheer frustration from waiting to be filled. I’m about to protest further when he shoves himself into me in one swift motion, our bodies jerking forward as a collective groan fills the room.

Yunho’s lips finally capture mine in a passionate kiss, a fight of tongues and teeth as he grips onto the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He thrusts into me relentlessly, pleasure and pain thrumming against my veins as I cry out against his lips. The tension of weeks of gentle touches and subtle glances finally crescendos in a messy union.

He finally pulls his mouth away from mine, gulping down air as sweat slicks his hair. I wriggle against the belt around my wrists, desperate to drag my nails down his back and feel every muscle move against mine. Yunho notices my impatience and lets out a ragged moan, shifting off of me just long enough to turn me over so that my wrists were now twisted in their binds. I gasp for breath and will myself to keep my climax at bay as he spreads my legs open for him again. Thrusting back into me, his pace grows erratic and heavy as he glides a hand down my back, a fistful of hair forcing me to crane my neck back.

“You take my cock so well, princess,” he manages to get out between groans, and I can feel him twitching at the sight as he buries himself deeper into me. “Every last bit of me.”

I let out a whimper at the thought of what a passer-by might have seen, the way Yunho had me bound to the desk and on display for him as he continued to fuck me senseless. He mutters sweet nothings between his strokes, reminding me that he had me bare before him exactly as I’d asked—like a common whore. The force of his thrusts causes me to fall onto my elbows, eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open as his twitching grew more noticeable.

The heat in my stomach becomes unbearable as I gasp for air, my hearing growing muffled and vision blurred as my climax finally approached its brink. Yunho picks up on this, thrusting even more forcefully into me as I cry out his name in a long, languid moan. He slows to a stop, pulling out of me and urging me to flip back over as I face him for the final time.

The sight of him towering over me satiates an endless craving, the way his deep brown eyes were filled with a raging lust as he positioned himself back at my entrance. His hair stuck to his forehead and his clothes were disheveled, soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin. He looked absolutely delectable.

He reaches for his length again, pumping as fast as he possibly could with a hand still clinging to the desk for support. I watch as he edges himself to the brink of orgasm, struggling to catch my own breath as he squeezes his eyes shut with a pathetic moan. With one final stroke, he releases himself onto me, the spoils of his efforts covering my abdomen in thick, white streaks.

We both stay like that for a moment, fighting to gasp down air and return to baseline. When we do, Yunho looks at me with a sudden realization, reaching to unfasten my binds and loop his belt back into its loops. I sit up with a sore grunt, Yunho brushing the hair out of my eyes with a gentle stroke of his thumb. He offers a strange smile, one that I mirror as we both understand what just happened.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he finally says, earning a raised eyebrow from me—as if he weren’t filling up every inch of me just moments prior. “Would hate for the prince to find out that you’ll be thinking of me every time he fucks you from now on.”

With a lewd smile, he reaches for my gown.

[ptergwen]

omg can you write a blurb where peter and the reader are in the stage of their relationship where they can't keep their hands of each other and keep leaving hickeys on each other and sexiling their roommates ? love your stuff <3

my place or yours?

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w/c: 793

warnings: 18+!, smut (p in v), language

a/n: hehe one of my fave tropes, when everyone's fed up because they can't get enough of each other :D hope you enjoy! and friendly reminder to join my new taglist it's dead y'all lmao

you move your hips against peter's, rubbing yourself against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. you both make noises of content, lips and tongues intertwined. peter helps you take off your shirt and works on your bra next. you smile coyly from above him as his hands find your chest.

"when's harry gonna be back?"

peter's hands massage your breasts, eyes glazed over with lust.

"uh, i don't know... or care."

he leaves a trail of kisses going down between your breasts. you giggle and push his head back playfully.

"but what if he walks in again?"

"don't worry about it, i put a sock on the doorknob... just in case."

you ruffle peter's hair, dipping your head down so your faces are just inches apart.

"you're so extra, pete. you could've just texted him."

"i know, but i really wanted to piss him off this time."

"i feel kind of bad, though. we've been sexiling him a lot lately."

peter moves his hands down to your hips, guiding you forward so your clothed center presses against him. he gives you a cheeky smile.

"so next time we'll go to your dorm and sexile betty."

you scoff at peter and capture his lips in a kiss. he bucks his hips up, into you, needing you. you need him just as bad.

you can't seem to get enough of each other recently, so much so that you'll go at it anytime and anywhere. your friends aren't too happy about it. they either get kicked out of the room or banned from entering.

you and peter finish undressing each other, fast but somehow still not fast enough. in one swift motion peter flips you over and grabs your leg, lifting it up to his shoulder. his dark eyes lock with yours. you nod repeatedly, desperately. he pushes into you with ease, a moan instantly falling from his lips.

"fuck, baby."

you hum happily. peter keeps his hips still for a moment, lets himself fill you up and feel you wrapped around him. he takes the opportunity to connect your lips once again in a slow kiss. you smile into the kiss and curl your other leg around peter's waist, encouraging him to move. he pulls out of you just enough so he can thrust back in.

peter begins to find a rhythm as his cock thrusts into you again and again. he can tell it's one you like by the way you grab at his shoulders and let out soft moans. he holds your leg in place on his shoulder so he keeps hitting the right spot, at the right angle. you can feel yourself drip between your thighs from how bad you'd wanted him and how good he's fucking you.

"pete... feels so good, baby."

neither of you are making any effort to be quiet. peter presses his forehead to yours, hips moving at the same perfect pace. you take his face in either of your hands. you close your eyes and focus on the pleasure. peter brings a hand down to rub your clit, earning a gasp from you at the sudden intensified feeling. he chuckles at your reaction.

"you like that?"

"mm, you know i do."

"wanted to hear you say it anyway."

you groan at peter's cockiness, but god does it turn you on.

"of course you did."

peter continues stroking in and out of you as his middle and ring fingers circle your clit. you crane your neck so you can kiss across peter's jaw, his chin, then back to his lips, his tussled hair tickling your forehead. you give him a look, the look with the eyes that gets him every time.

"harder."

peter brings your other leg up to his shoulders, holding them both in place, starting to pound into you. he groans out a fuck. you arch your back and reach up, hands still cupping his cheeks. you're breathless and he's panting. you want more and more, as much of him as you can take, even more than that.

"oh my god, y/n. shit, baby."

"needed you so bad, pete."

"i’m all yours."

peter takes one of your hands and kisses your palm. you squeeze your intertwined hands, eyes fluttering closed in pure bliss.

the moment is interrupted when you two hear harry call from outside.

"again, parker? really?"

he bangs on the door for emphasis. peter stifles a laugh, continuing to thrust into you, making you have to stifle a moan.

"hey, man! respect the sock!"

"yeah. you're a real class act, you two."

you wait until harry leaves to join peter in a fit of giggles. you push some damp hair out of his face, scrunching up your nose.

"okay, yeah. my place next time."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety

[cumironi]

hi I see you want a request! hb some angst to comfort !drunkgojoxreader where he always shows up drunk confessing his feelings but then acts normal when he’s sobered up. Reader is tired of mixed signals and ends up going on a date with someone when gojo happens to visit sobered up

you can do whatever you want if u happen to be inspired! Hope this helps you get out of your funk

“OH, MY LOVER IS DRUNK” : GOJO SATORU

you and him, you were supposed to be best friends— supposed to. but neither you nor gojo can't keep the feeling of falling. he tries to deny the feeling so hard that he has to drown himself with alcohol, the thing he loves the least, just to forget the feeling, only to come back to you every time he is drunk.

w/c 4.5k

warning : drunk! gojo satoru, non-sorcerer gojo!, angst.

p.s thank you for giving me a chance to write you something, and I'm sorry it took me long enough to write this :'), but i hope you enjoy it! (i don't think i make this angst enough for my liking)

fanart credit to the owner.

it was a tranquil night, the moon casting a soft, ethereal glow through your apartment windows, bathing the room in a gentle light. though the clock read 3:00 AM, sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to find peace. lying on your cold bed, you stared at the ceiling, each pattern and shadow playing tricks on your eyes in the dim light. the blanket was draped neatly up to your stomach, its weight a comforting presence against the chill of the night.

your hands lay flat on top of the blanket, fingers nervously tapping the back of the other hand in a slow, rhythmic cadence. the silence of the night seemed to amplify every tiny sound: the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment, the almost imperceptible hum of the city outside. despite the stillness, a storm of thoughts churned within you, each one keeping you wide awake and alert, as if anticipating something just beyond the horizon.

you were anticipating something, no— more likely, someone. that someone, neither your boyfriend nor your anything, he just likely is a more sinister thing, disguised as a best friend, unfortunately. sinister thing, you describe him, where a silver thread lies between you and him— a bright and bold, tale of your love, gojo satoru.

he is, my sinister thing’ you thought.

you were adrift, suspended in the air, with no destination, no specific place to call home. you existed in a state of limbo, neither firmly standing nor lying down, hovering in a liminal space. your presence was neither filled with love nor marked by the experience of being in love.

you were perpetually caught in a paradox, always existing in a state of “neither,” but never fully reaching a place of clarity or resolution. your existence was defined by an absence of definitive states or emotions, perpetually undefined and drifting, forever caught between the edges of presence and absence.

it was always waiting, waiting, and waiting.

just like how the night before, and before, and right now, waiting in your bed for him to knock— and when he does, you, mindlessly, like you're in ecstasy running a little by little in the middle of the night to open your door, without realizing there's another door you open— your heart.

stumbling, drowning in a sea of alcohol he hates, gojo satoru walks in. and you, like the idiot you are, guide him to your barely-fits-for-his-over-six-feet -ass couch, comfortably lying him there.

“careful,” you whisper through the night.

your warm hands meet with his cold ones, gripping you as if he's holding on for his dear life. you drape his body with a blanket, big enough for you to shield not only his physical form but also the emotions he holds for you, hidden beneath the warmth, hide his love for you, not that you need to know. gojo‘s blue eyes are warm, and dull as they indulge softly in the moonlight and gentle glow from your little lamp on the cover of your living room, appear soft and subdued.

you find yourself seated on the cold, hard floor, while gojo stretches out on your couch, facing you with a look of serene contentment. his handsome face is illuminated by a crooked yet mesmerizing smile, a testament to his charm even in his inebriated state. his hands, chilled and seeking, grip yours with a familiar desperation, yearning for the warmth you effortlessly provide.

this nightly ritual has become a part of your routine—gojo, drinking away his soul, stumbles through your door, his steps wavering yet purposeful. he collapses onto the couch, and you remain on the floor, the quiet observer of his vulnerable confessions. as he speaks of his love for you with a fervor that seems to swell with each passing moment, it’s as if he fears losing you with the break of dawn.

he loves like you’re the very essence of his existence, the heartbeat of his every moment. his affection is a force that shapes his world, a flame that burns eternally in his soul. to him, you are the embodiment of all his dreams and desires, the one who makes every day brighter and every night more meaningful. his love for you is not just a feeling but a profound truth that defines his very being.

when the alcohol fades and his clarity returns, he resumes his usual demeanor, leaving behind only the tender echo of his heartfelt declarations and the gentle imprint of his touch on your hands. he pretends, gojo satoru likes to pretend.

“always so beautiful,” he whispered, his smile fading as his eyes wandered over every contour of your face. he traced the delicate path of each freckle, every mole, and the subtle lines that marked the passage of time, memorizing every exquisite detail in his heart. his cold hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a chill across your skin that mingled with the warmth of his gaze, as if he were imprinting the essence of your beauty into his soul.

he draws your entwined hands closer to his chest, where his heart, in truth, has always belonged to you. from the very first moment you met, it was never his alone; it has been yours from the start. as your palm rests against his chest, you can feel the soft, steady beat of his yours heart, buried beneath his flesh—an intimate rhythm that pulses with calm and a tender, unselfish devotion.

a small smile graces your lips as you rest your chin on the couch, gazing deeply into his eyes and letting yourself be enveloped by their depth. “i’m in love with you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with intoxicated. “so in love that i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t, as if my soul has adored you since the dawn of everything,” you listen to his heartfelt confession, witnessing the gradual collapse of his defenses, and your eyes shimmer, heart-shaped.

gojo chuckled softly, his voice thick with intoxication. “do you recall the first and last time we made love? your lips on my neck, since that day, your mouth has been nothing but heaven,” his words tumbled out in a drowsy, slurred cadence.

you, too, remember that day with crystal clarity; it is etched deeply in your mind, an indelible memory that clings to your thoughts like a cherished, haunting presence. each detail, every sensation, has become a permanent part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. the memory of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss linger, a profound and enduring echo that remains with you always.

you still can feel his touch on your skin.

“of course you don’t know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of intoxication, as his thumb traced gentle patterns across your cheek. “and i’ll gladly take the blame for that,” he continued, his words slurred with inebriation, “i-i kissed your hair while you slept in the morning,” his giggle, light and childlike, bubbled up with a carefree delight. “i wonder if you ever knew.”

you shake your head gently, a small, small smile touching your lips, just a little. you wouldn't dare to open your mouth, oh, you wouldn't dare. to speak would risk breaking the spell of his drunken state, causing him to sober up and retract the love he has so freely and vulnerably shared. the thought of him withdrawing those tender confessions and retreating into the safety of his guarded heart is a fear too profound to bear. because at that time, it's all you have, his drunkenly confession.

so you remain silent, savoring the warmth of his affection as it envelops you, clinging to this fleeting intimacy as if it were a precious secret. afraid that when the dawn’s approach looms, threatening to sweep away the ephemeral beauty of his heartfelt revelations, leaving only the ghost of his love behind.

it's a frightening, haunting, spine-chilling sensation that grips you, filling you with an aching dread, so you remain silent. because maybe, in those three am confessions are your only salvation. just like a dark mirror to cinderella’s tale, your reality is sinking down from the ceiling, swallowing you whole when he sobers up when the sun hits your cheeks warm.

“oh, god, i love you so much. . .” he whispered, his voice laden with vulnerability as he clutched your hand tightly, pressing it against his chest. “this love i feel—it terrifies me. i'm scared for the love i have for you, it seems so powerful, like it could burn me alive or utterly ruin me. even so, i know that i’ll let it be, but fuck. . . i'm so scared.” his breath was uneven and strained, each gasp revealing the depth of his fear.

his eyes, gleaming with the weight of his emotions, flickered with a poignant brilliance before finally closing. as he drifted into unconsciousness, the full embrace of the alcohol took hold, and the tender confessions of his heart were swallowed by the enveloping darkness.

you remain in quiet contemplation, letting his heartfelt words gently seep into your thoughts. you extend your arm along the edge of the couch, laying your cheek softly against it as you gaze at gojo’s tranquil, slumbering face. his lips, tender and slightly swollen, and his cheeks, flushed a soft, rosy hue reminiscent of crushed cherries from the effects of the alcohol, form a serene portrait of vulnerability.

in the gentle light, his features are softened by the peacefulness of sleep, creating a stark contrast to the emotional intensity of his earlier confessions. the calmness of his face, so vulnerable and exposed in repose, contrasts beautifully with the passionate turmoil of his words.

as you watch him, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping you both in a tender silence that honors the depth of the moment. the delicate interplay of light and shadow highlights the serene beauty of his sleep, allowing you to cherish the profound intimacy of this quiet, shared space.

when the morning comes, he'll sober up, and the alcohol will have faded from his system, washed away by the sunlight along with his love for you. he'll blame the alcohol in case he said anything foolish, and you? oh, you would find yourself blaming the moon, even the sun, because it's breath away the day for night to come, for casting hope into your soul, into your heart, and also crushing it at the same time in the harsh light of dawn. leaving you to grapple with the fragile hope that was both a blessing and a burden.

it was cruel, worse than cannibalism. you could have borne the agony of having your flesh consumed, but not the ravaging of your soul and heart, oh please, not my heart’ you would plead into the darkness as night falls. you were scared too, not because of loving gojo satoru, loving him is as natural as breathing, but because of the depth of your devotion— you are scared your devotion would turn violent. your devotion would make you believe him like a god, and he'll betray you like a man.

yet, despite the pain, you find yourself eternally awaiting the arrival of night, longing for those confessions whispered at 3:00 AM, even knowing they will leave you shattered by morning’s light. each dawn brings the same heartache, and today is no different.

you awaken to the insistent chime of your notification, your eyes fluttering open to the stark emptiness of your apartment. the couch where gojo once lay is now vacant, the space where he slept cold and unwelcoming. the blanket he used before now wrapped around you, carries no trace of his warmth. the comfort it once offered has dissipated, leaving behind only a hollow chill and the echo of his absence.

your grip tightens on your phone, the pressure biting into your hands, but it’s a mere shadow of the pain coursing through your heart. suddenly, the dam within you gives way, and a torrent of tears spills down your cheeks, cascading like a relentless river. the exhaustion of navigating gojo’s endless emotional games weighs heavily upon you, a suffocating burden that leaves you breathless.

you don't want anything, the only thing you want can't be bought with money. if i ask for your heart will you give it to me?’ you mock yourself. what a fucking loser.

“oh god. . .” you whisper, forehead touching the floor as you wailing in silence.

you feel foolish for clinging to the hope that, perhaps this time, he might remember, that he might repeat the tender words of the night before. yet, as each morning dawns with the same emptiness, your heart aches with the weary realization that your hopes have been in vain, leaving you to grapple with the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams.

the evening was settling into a serene quiet, your apartment softly illuminated by the warm glow of your lights. you were almost ready for your date, anticipation mingling with a sense of hope as you made final adjustments to your outfit. watching yourself in the mirror, you realize how dull your eyes are, losing their spark. after everything, you decided to bury your feelings beneath your flesh until only you know your love for gojo satoru.

a knock at the door disrupted your preparations, and when you opened it, gojo stood there, sober and uncharacteristically subdued. his eyes, usually brimming with playful energy, now reflected a deep, almost mournful sadness.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer just like always. he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the subtle details of your evening preparations—the carefully chosen attire, the delicate scent of perfume, and your eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes.

you moved through your bedroom, selecting accessories and adjusting your outfit, each motion a quiet ritual in the evening’s anticipation. gojo watched from the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a deep, almost reverent intensity. his silence spoke volumes, a contrast to the usual banter that characterized your interactions.

gojo’s voice, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability, broke the silence. “where are you going?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and hurt.

you hesitated, caught between the desire to protect both his feelings and the truth. his gaze, usually so playful and intense, now bore a raw, wounded quality. the gravity of the question hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the weight of the decision you had to make.

“i’m—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. you could see the hope flickering in his eyes, mingled with the pain of realization. you knew that this was more than just a casual question; it was a plea for understanding, for clarity amid his confusion.

he took a step closer, his usual nonchalance replaced by a genuine yearning to grasp the reality of the situation. “i just want to know,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “where you’re going. what’s tonight for you?”

you looked at him, your heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears. the room felt charged with the intensity of the moment, every detail amplified by the quiet desperation in his voice.

“i’m going out with someone,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “tonight is… it’s meant for someone else.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. gojo’s face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as he took in the truth of your plans. he nodded slowly, the understanding settling over him with a heavy sadness.

“i see,” he said quietly, a bitter edge to his tone as he took a step back, giving you space. “i didn’t realize…” the finality of his words and the desolate look on his face were almost too much to bear.

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but before you could answer, his gaze wandered over you with a mixture of admiration and sadness. “you look…” he started, his voice faltering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “you look really beautiful tonight.”

his eyes roamed over your outfit, the careful details you had chosen, and the way the light caught in your hair. there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of more than just physical appreciation— it was as though he was trying to hold onto every fleeting moment, every detail of this evening as if to etch it into his memory.

“you always look beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “but tonight. . .. tonight it’s different. you’re. . . breathtaking.” the sincerity in his words was palpable, mingling with the unspoken sadness in his eyes. he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the moment. instead, he stood there, quietly observing, letting his admiration and affection fill the space between you.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving you. “i just wanted to see you one more time. before you go.”

the room felt heavy with the weight of his gaze, the emotional intensity of his words. you could feel the ache in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and longing, as he took in every detail of your appearance. the compliment, so genuine and heartfelt, seemed to hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the affection he still held for you.

“it's okay,” you nodded softly, gazing at him from your mirror with a little smile, kissing your lips. the date was meant to be an escape, a chance to move forward, but it felt like an endurance exercise.

your date was polite and engaged in conversation, but there was an undeniable disconnect. every word spoken seemed to drift past you, a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts that consumed your mind. the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the casual chatter all felt hollow, lacking the vibrancy you had hoped for.

as the evening progressed, the sparkle of the city lights and the charm of the venue did little to lift the weight on your shoulders. the conversations felt superficial, the moments fleeting and unremarkable. you smiled and nodded in response, but your thoughts were miles away, tangled in the memories and the lingering presence of gojo.

you couldn’t help but replay the images of that earlier moment—gojo’s earnest eyes, the softness of his compliments, and the way his gaze had followed you with such unspoken longing. his presence had imprinted on your heart so deeply that everything else seemed to fade in comparison. the way he had watched you, the tenderness in his voice, and the painful silence after he had left all resurfaced in your mind, casting a shadow over every interaction of the evening.

the date dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. you forced yourself to remain engaged, but the thought of gojo’s unspoken words and the gentle way he had looked at you overshadowed everything. you were caught in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to escape the grip of your own emotions.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the evening. your mind was still heavy with the weight of the date's emptiness, and the city lights seemed dimmer as you walked towards your car.

just outside, by the entrance of the restaurant, you noticed a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. gojo stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the crowd with a determined focus. as your gaze met his, his face softened, revealing a mix of relief and something deeper.

there you are, beautiful, mellow you. walking alone looking pretty in that silk dress that you should be wearing for him, not the other man, him. seeing you so breathtakingly beautiful makes gojo satoru want to crash into every piece of you, and fuck, he swears to god, that's how stars are born.

“hey,” he said softly, pushing himself off the lamppost and walking towards you. the usually playful tone in his voice was replaced by a sincere warmth. “i thought i might catch you before you left.” you stopped in your tracks, a flutter of surprise and emotion rising within you. “satoru, what are you doing here?”

you're in front of him, eyes glimmering under the lamppost and the moon. gojo wants to run, to bury himself under the ground, or just tell you to stop looking at him with those eyes. stop touching me with your eyes’ he thought.

“i-i. . .”

even so, his eyes never leave yours, shaken as he tries to swim into your orbs. how its color slightly changes under the lamppost makes it even harder for gojo to speak as if the ground is a new language for him, and suddenly, he forgets everything he knows about gravity.

“please love me. .” he whispered, throat dry.

for a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes widened in astonishment. your heart is pounded with a frantic rhythm, faster than the fall of distant stars, yearning to escape its confines and find its way into gojo’s hands. it ached with a longing so intense that it felt almost unbearable.

the pain of desiring something so profoundly—something you’ve never truly known—made you question why your heart should yearn for a home it has never experienced. yet, despite never having been there, it cried out with an ineffable need to be held by him.

it was always his and never been yours since day one, but he already holds onto your soul with an unrelenting grip and your heart— your only refuge, is all you ever had to keep living. you can't live your life if all you ever had is just merely flesh and bone.

“satoru, are you drunk?”

“no—” he shook his head, fast enough to hold both your hands and bring them closer against his chest, where his heart was beating faster, also begging to be handed to you. “i'm in love with you, y/n. i'm sorry i always pretend like i don't remember in the morning, but please. . . i don't dare to, maybe if i love you less it would be easier for me to talk, but fuck—”

he paused for a moment, and in that suspended breath, your only fear was the possibility of him retracting his heartfelt confession. the weight of his unspoken words hung in the air, and you found yourself dreading the loss of such a precious revelation. the thought of him pulling back, of his feelings fading into silence, was the only shadow that cast fear over your heart.

so you shook your head, “no, don't stop,” you plea.

gojo swallows his pride, he feels pathetic. but he would bear the life long of feeling pathetic if it is meant to have your eyes on him, to have your skins and bones knit with his then so be it. “i love you—oh god, i fucking love you, in the purest, chaste, most victorian sense,” he says, laughing softly. “even a mere glimpse of your ankle might be enough to drive me mad.” you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

his hands enveloped yours with a desperate intensity, holding them as if they were the very essence of his longing. “i love you,” he breathed softly, his voice mingling with the whisper of the night breeze. “i want every single one of your tomorrows.”

he guided your hands closer to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your wrist, his touch both tender and reverent. his eyes locked with yours, revealing a depth of emotion that seemed to illuminate the darkness around you. the moment his lips left your skin, the faintest trace of coldness lingered, as if the warmth of his affection had left an indelible mark.

with a gentle but purposeful motion, his hands slid to your waist, drawing you nearer. his touch was both firm and delicate as he turned you around, guiding you until your back was nearly pressed against the lamppost. the soft glow of the streetlight bathed you both in a halo of light, casting long shadows and highlighting the closeness of your bodies.

in this intimate cocoon, the world seemed to fade away. the chill of the night, the warmth of his breath, and the quiet intensity of his gaze created a fragile moment of connection. his presence enveloped you, a promise whispered in the night air, as if he were claiming every future moment with you, even as the night deepened around you.

“please. . ..” he beg.

he leaned in, his face inches from yours, until his lips lightly brushed against your own. “please, love me,” he whispered once more, his voice tender and pleading. his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

the proximity of his lips, the softness of his words, and the gentle warmth of his breath all combined to create a moment of intimate vulnerability. his plea hung in the air, laden with the depth of his emotions, as he sought to bridge the gap between your hearts.

as the world around you seemed to slow, gojo’s gaze lingered on your lips with an intensity that made your heart race. his fingers, still resting on your waist, drew you even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. the soft glow of the streetlight cast a gentle halo around the two of you, accentuating the intimacy of the moment.

with a deliberate tenderness, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation built like a quiet storm as his lips inched closer, brushing against yours with a delicate, almost reverent touch. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of deep longing and unspoken desires.

his lips moved with a slow, deliberate grace as if savoring every second of the connection. the initial softness gave way to a deeper intensity, his kiss growing more passionate as he pulled you even closer. the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his lips pressed firmly against yours. his hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet insistent, guiding the kiss with a blend of affection and need.

the warmth of his kiss seemed to infuse every part of you, a melding of hearts and souls that transcended words. when he finally pulled away, his eyes still locked onto yours, there was a look of profound contentment and vulnerability. the kiss lingered in the air between you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the fragile, beautiful connection that bound you together.

as you slowly pull away from the kiss, your lips linger near his, you meet his gaze with a fierce resolve. “if you ever mock me or play with me,” you say, your voice steady yet charged with intensity, “i swear to god, satoru, i’ll fucking hunt you down.” the words hang between you, your breath mingling with his, a silent promise of the depth of your commitment.

gojo’s eyes spark with a playful glint as he hears your words. with a mischievous smile, he leans in, giving your lips a series of soft, teasing pecks. “i won’t,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity. “i promise.” his playful demeanor contrasts with the intensity of your threat, yet his gentle touches and warm gaze convey a deeper assurance.

[thisisjustfanfic]

Touch

Drabbles of the LADS Men

{SFW & NSFW}

(Done as writing warmup)

Xavier:

Touch for him is either all or nothing. Like a door locked up tight. At first there is nothing. No touch except for the most chaste and innocent brushes. Nothing that could ever be considered anything more than professional or courteous.

Once that door opens though? Once he feels safe to open up? There's no going back. He's a leech. A little tick in your skin that you'd have to cut the head off of to get rid of at this point.

There's no question of his feelings once that damn breaks, though his mouth might not always give him away- his hands do.

A hand at your waist, or holding your hands. A tether tying the drifting ship at sea to the anchor of you.

He can still maintain professionalism while you're working, but the touches linger. They hold tighter, forcing you still until he can make sure you're unharmed. He touches your waist a lot, holding you in place or maneuvering you where he wants.

Kisses are sweet but moving. A slow dance as even the lightest peck lures him in. The feel of your lips a dangerous drug for him. Even a tiny hit is enough to make him wild.

NSFW

Xavier is the least concerned about PDA (outside of work of course). He doesn't care if people see him hold you. If he get's weird looks when he uses the anchor of his hand on your hip to pull you through a crowd. Or if someone happens to pass by the greenhouse window when you're laid out for him among the greenery.

His admiration for how easily he can move you around really shows itself when you're intimate. His hand in you hair, guiding you up and down his cock. He's not forceful, but he his firm. You don't move without his guidance.

He'll kiss you anywhere. Anywhere he can reach. Whatever skin that might be closest is where he'll drag his lips, nipping at you until you jump. The way you respond to his touch is dizzying. The fact that its him doing it is addictive.

He'd spend a lot of time letting his hands roam. Like they're restless. Dragging his fiongers up and down your body, skating over the places you want him unti your trembling. Begging rarely works- he likes the sound of it too much to stop.

Zayne:

Zayne is frugal with physical touch at first. Almost shy. To him, there is no rush. No need for desperation when there's all the time in the world.

He's fond of little caresses. A brush of the hair. A slide of the back of your hands against one another. Like flint and steel, striking to cause tiny infinitesimal sparks.

Before you're together, touch is reserved to necessity only. Examinations are one of them. Though neither one of you clues the other in to how much those touches entice the other. You feel ashamed for liking the touch of your doctor, and your doctor berates himself for how much he likes touching his patient.

Once together though, things aren't that different on the outside. It comes as a shock to those around the two of you because Zayne doesn't seem to act any different around you.

Alone though, he's a magnet. He might not reach out and touch, but he likes to be close. Sitting with legs pressed together, shoulders touching. If he can get away with it, you in his lap. It feels like to parts of a whole, sliding back into place.

Kissing him is either sweet and light, or dark and devouring. He's either the polite and gentle doctor that will kiss you like a gentleman. Holding the sides of your face to slowly press your lips to his, so delicate.

OR he's a man starved. His mouth dry and panting and the only relief is the wetness of your mouth, your tongue. Behind closed doors, he'll dine himself upon you like it's the last time. A man possess. Afterwards, he;ll always apologize, unsure of what comes over him.

NSFW

Zayne is a gentleman. Considerate too. He takes what you want into account and so will touch you like playing an instrument. The human body is a map he knows well, and yours is one he wants undone.

He learns the spots that you like, the spots you don't, and everything in between. He uses his mouth more than his hands, tasting the places he plays with you.

His favorite is being against your neck and chest- his lips and teeth leaving tiny marks easily hidden by your clothes. He likes the feel of your breath and your heartbeat against him. He can feel the way your breath stutters as you ride him, or when your heart pounds so hard he can feel the beat of it on his tongue.

He likes to feel you come as much as hear it and see it. He’ll make you wait to come until he’s inside, his fingers or his cock. Either way is fine for him. So long as he can physically feel it.

Rafayel:

Rafayel is a tease. Mean sometimes with how he likes to play with you. Sometimes you wonder what you've done to deserve this (if only you knew).

Making him wait 800 years makes a man both desperate, and very patient.

At first, it's hard to tell whether his touches are because he's attracted to you or because that's just how he is. When you start off as his bodyguard, you spend most of your time within three feet of him, and lots of the time some part of you is touching.

Eventually you realize that no- he isn't like that with everyone. If fact, he goes to some lengths to not be touched by other people. Even Thomas, his manager AND his friend, doesn't get so much as a handshake.

Though you get your hair mussed and cheeks pinched. Teasing you about some silly thing you've said or done. Or playfully punishing you for neglecting your job as a bodyguard, like you aren't ALSO a hunter.

The touches stay teasing once your together, but also soft. The gentle things like a caress, a brush of his hands against your hip-- those tender things he seemed reluctant to do until you were his.

He doesn't hug so much as cling. He doesn't kiss without the tiniest bit of tongue. A little taste at the end of every kiss across your lips.

NSFW

Rafayel touches with his whole body, and likes to cover you with it.

He likes to have as much as possible touching. From chest to hips, all the way to toes. He thrusts with his whole body, not just his hips. It’s lead to you smacking your head on the headboard more than once. To combat this, he’s figured out he can lace his fingers on top of your head to keep you in place so he can really pound into you.

Or, he likes to have you leaning against him. He’ll sit up against the headboard or even in a chair and have you in his lap, bodies pressed from shoulders to hips and he’ll play with you like one plays an instrument. Splayed out, preferably with a mirror in front of you. Oh it’s not for you. It’s for him. He wants to see everything.

Sylus:

Sylus is touchy, but keeps it only to certain areas. There are parts of your body that he seemed to tink was open season from the beginning. Your hands being one of them.

He likes to intertwine your fingers, watching as they lock together. The glow of the linkage that shows up reflects off his face and he always looks so smug.

His love language (one of them) is quality time. Any time he can spend with you is time well spent, and even better if he can somehow touch you.

PDA isn’t really for him, especially in the N109 zone, but in the safety of Linkon he’ll kiss your forehead or hold his hand at your lower back.

He likes to carry you, if you’ll let him. From piggy backs to princess carry, it makes him feel strong and settles something restless inside him. Like you might float away on the breeze, but when you’re in his arms, you can’t slip away

NSFW

Marking. Claiming. Anytime he can suck a mark onto you is an opportunity taken. Better if he can dig his teeth in too.

It takes him a while to let himself be as rough as he wants, because at the end of the day he never wants to hurt you.

It makes him feel vulnerable, how desperate he is to touch you. And he can get pussydrunk so easily. A slave to your taste and your touch. He maintains control by a single thread sometimes.

He likes to kiss your chest. To feel your heartbeat against his lips. The aether core in your chest harmonizes with the one his eye, making the most intense sublime resonance. The sensation of it is like lightning to his spine, jolting pleasure down to his very marrow. And he likes to leave a little bite there when he inevitably comes from the feeling.

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Chapter 01;

— Your Sweet Love

Synosis: In a marriage born out of convenience and plagued by bitterness, You and Sunghoon find yourselves trapped in a cycle of cold indifference and unspoken resentment. Your quiet strength and tender care begin to reach the heart Sunghoon has so carefully guarded. Slowly, walls built from years of hurt and mistrust start to crumble, revealing a shared loneliness neither had acknowledged. With every tentative step toward connection, your hearts yearn for a closeness you’ve long denied yourself selves, leaving both to wonder if you can build something real from the ashes of your forced bond.

Navigation: Intro - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 Pairing: fem!reader X husband!Park Sunghoon Genre: Arranged Marriage trope; Slow Burn; Angst; Fluff; Smut (kinda) Warnings: cursing, mention of pills (some are drugs); abuse; mentions of blood; sexual content; injuries; heavy themes; juicy tension ;) Music: Listen to 'nevertheless ost' and 'the trunk ost'!! Disclaimer: This story is fiction, and it does not reflect real life in any way. This story is heavily inspired by the kdrama 'The Trunk' on Netflix but with a special twist! Words: 4.4k - New Chapter Every Saturday!!

A/n: It's finally here, im going to pass out HAHA. I'm so freaking excited!! I've been working very hard on this!! I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it!! Thank you for all the love and support. It means everything to me <3

You've always wanted to get married, thinking deep love and closeness between lovers were all you needed. House chores wouldn’t seem so bad with a loving partner by your side, and fights wouldn’t matter much because, in the end, all that mattered was that you loved each other.

But when you married Sunghoon, that idealized vision of marriage was flushed away. You understood why you agreed to this, but you wished you hadn’t. Nevertheless, it was too late to harbor regrets. Your eyes wandered to the stove, where the kimchi soup was finishing its slow boil. Without meaning to, your thoughts drifted back to your wedding day. Your body tensed at the memory, still so vivid and raw.

The ceremony was beautiful, but it was meaningless. The creative team had chosen blue as the theme color, a perfect match for the day’s melancholy. As you stood before the mirror fixing your braided bun, a single tear escaped, sliding down your cheek. Your chest burned with a dull ache, your heart feeling as though it were being crushed.

You knew this marriage was a necessity—a way out of the life you were desperately trying to leave behind. But it felt wrong. Wearing such a beautiful gown for a union built on fake pretense. As your unsteady hands adjusted the lace of your mermaid-style wedding dress, the door creaked open behind you.

“Are you ready, Hun?” Sunghoon’s mother asked, standing in the doorway with a gentle smile.

As if sensing your turmoil, she stepped closer, wrapping you in a warm hug. “It will get better, I promise,” she said softly, her gaze filled with compassion.

You nodded, managing a faint, forced smile before taking her hand and guiding her out to join Sunghoon’s father. He was a tall man with an air of dominance, his face stern as he checked his gold wristwatch. Hearing your footsteps, he looked up, his features softening slightly. Offering his arm with unexpected gentleness, he led you to the ceremony.

The luxurious hall was lined with guests who rose to their feet, clapping as you made your way down the aisle. You didn’t recognize most of them, apart from your mother, seated at the back with an indifferent expression. She hadn’t supported this arrangement but came to maintain appearances for a friend. Your hands trembled as you walked, the thick atmosphere making it hard to breathe.

And then you saw him—Sunghoon. He stood tall, his black tailored suit fitting perfectly, exuding elegance. The small Prada pin softly shone under the light, showing off his expensive taste. His dark eyes, behind thin-framed glasses, avoided yours entirely. He never once glanced your way. Even when it came time to exchange vows, his gaze remained somewhere behind you.

A sudden noise pulled you back to the present. You peeked into the hallway to see Sunghoon putting on his shoes.

“Are you leaving already?” you asked, concern shaping your voice as your eyes settled on his pale, weary face.

“Yes,” he replied coldly.

“What about lunch? I was just—”

“I’m not hungry,” he interrupted, his tone hard. Grabbing his briefcase, he left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath, forcing back the tears welling in your eyes. Slowly, you returned to the kitchen, where the aroma of kimchi soup lingered. With a quiet sigh, you turned off the stove and poured yourself a small serving, the familiar smell offering a faint comfort.

Sitting down at the dining table, you reached for the bowl of purple rice and began to eat in silence. Sunlight filtered through the open blinds, casting a warm glow across the room as though trying to console you. But it was short-lived. The memories of your wedding night came rushing back, unbidden and sharp.

It was past midnight. Everyone was drinking and enjoying dessert as you and your husband sat together at the main table. Besides you, Sunghoon was completely drunk—yelling and punching the table whenever his glass was empty, scolding the servers for not noticing he wanted more wine, and calling them slow and stupid.

Your eyes stayed focused on your plate, where a carefully made tiramisu sat—your husband’s favorite. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat. Your head was pounding, and it was still hard to breathe. Abruptly, Sunghoon stood up and started walking, disappearing into the vast corridors of the restaurant. His steps were unsteady, causing him to bump into a server and a large flowerpot.

Sunghoon’s mother glanced at you, and her silent look said everything. You stood on sore feet and followed him, moving slowly as you tried to figure out where he was going. Sunghoon slipped into a random room, and after waiting for a moment, you knocked gently and opened the door.

Inside the dimly lit space, you found your new husband swallowing two small white pills. When he noticed your presence, the anger he had been suppressing finally snapped.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sunghoon spat bitterly.

“I was just checking on you. You can barely stand,” you explained, quietly closing the door behind you.

You took a cautious step toward him, but Sunghoon immediately stood and moved away, keeping his distance. He couldn’t stand you—or your fake smile, as if this were some perfect wedding.

“Get the fuck away from me,” he said sharply when you tried to reach out, intending only to fix his crooked tie.

“Sunghoon, you don’t have to be like this,” you said softly, your voice already trembling as warm tears began to well in your eyes.

Sunghoon laughed—a cold, mocking sound that echoed in the room and in your head.

“You’re so fucking pathetic and naive,” he sneered. “What were you expecting, huh? That I’d be thankful you agreed to marry me? Don’t pretend you didn’t get something out of this proposal. You’re nothing but a fucking opportunist.”

His words felt like a slap across the face, but you held your ground. Sunghoon stepped closer than he ever had before, his breath reeking of alcohol and his cheeks painted in a deep shade of red.

“Sunghoon, I’m your wife. You respect me!” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger.

He let out another bitter laugh. Running a hand through his dark hair, looking you in the eyes for the first time that night.

“I will never, never, you hear me?” He said, stepping closer to you again. “I will never kiss you, hold you, or fuck you. No matter what you try, I will never touch you. I will never be yours.”

The venom in his voice left you numb. Before you realized what you were doing, you shoved him back, your hands trembling with rage and frustration. Your body felt like it was burning, and the tears you’d been holding back fell freely.

“I’m not here to seduce you,” you said quietly, pointing a finger at him. The tears streamed down your face as you added, “Do you think I want anything from you? Mr. so rich yet so addicted to pills that he can’t function like a normal human being.” Your voice trembled with rage as the words tumbled out.

Your eyes locked with Sunghoon’s. His gaze, dark and intense sent your pulse racing. You wanted to scream back, to cut him as deeply as he had cut you. But you refused to be like him. Without another word, you turned and left, slamming the door behind you.

As you put another spoon of the soup in your mouth, you realize that you are crying. The salty taste of your tears mixed with the soup you were eating. Sunghoon wasn’t as cruel or angry as he used to be—not anymore. Now he was distant and cold. You knew his pain was rooted in a past relationship, but he wouldn’t let you in to help him overcome it.

Feeling like you couldn’t eat another bite, you got up and began tidying the kitchen. The quiet rhythm of cleaning helped the time pass, and you were grateful for the distraction. You hated how big, empty, and silent his house felt. After finishing in the kitchen, you decided to go check up on his room.

You climbed the spiral staircase, your footsteps echoing in the vast space, and then you entered his bedroom. The moment you opened the door, his expensive cologne enveloped you.

You moved around the large room, opening the windows to let in fresh air. His bed wasn’t messy, so it didn’t take long to straighten the covers. Once everything was in order, curiosity pulled you toward his dressing room.

The space was tall rather than long, impeccably organized, and spotless—just like Sunghoon. As you wandered further inside, your eyes landed on the mannequin at the center of the room. It was bare. A small smile touched your lips. Slowly, but surely, you were helping him open up to you.

The night eventually came, and you found yourself eating the leftovers from lunch alone in the kitchen. You had just finished washing up, so your black hair was still damp and wrapped in a towel. A random show played on the TV, and while you weren’t paying much attention to it, you appreciated the company it gave you.

Then you heard his footsteps. Sunghoon usually took his time coming inside—removing his trainers and setting down his backpack slowly—but tonight, the sounds were different; they seemed rushed. Soon, he appeared in the hallway, catching a glimpse of you quietly eating.

“Hey, how was your day? Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked, getting up and walking toward the large man.

Sunghoon didn’t respond; his exhausted eyes fixed on you. As you approached, he didn’t step away. Though he still didn’t fully trust you, part of him hoped you’d understand how he felt just by looking at him.

And you did. Your eyes carefully studied his face, noting the loneliness etched into his features. The dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, the slight flush on his nose and lips—it all pointed to one thing. But instead of pressing him with questions, you silently reached up to help him untie his tie. Your fingers moved slowly and deliberately, working on the knot with practice.

Sunghoon was both confused and relieved. He didn’t want to explain why he felt so sad—he didn’t want to hurt you with the truth. As he watched your focused expression, your eyes so big and fixated on the task, he couldn’t help but find you… adorable. The faint scent of vanilla from your body lotion drifted up, sweet and comforting—just like you.

“I’ll run the shower for you,” you said softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips. “When you’re done, you can join me in the living room. We can share a beer and watch TV.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned and headed to his bathroom to prepare the shower.

After a long, warm shower, Sunghoon stood awkwardly in the arched entryway of the living room. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he wore a simple black T-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the basketball game playing on the screen. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

“Here, you can sit down. I’m just watching this game,” you said, tossing him a can of beer.

Sunghoon caught it with ease, a faint, gentle smile tugging at his lips as he took a moment to admire you. Your hair was still a little wet, dampening the collar of your shirt. You wore an oversized T-shirt and shorts, but what really caught his attention was something he’d never seen you wear before: big, square-shaped glasses perched on your nose. They made you look undeniably cute.

Realizing where his thoughts had wandered, Sunghoon shook his head slightly and moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite end from you. He popped open the beer, took a sip, and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the soft pillow of the sofa.

The next morning, when Sunghoon woke up, he felt slightly better. Despite taking his usual sleeping pills, he had fallen asleep faster and slept more soundly. In his mind, it was all because of you and your idea, so he started joining you in the living room every day.

He couldn’t quite understand how you seemed to know him so well, despite him never opening up to you, but he was grateful.

For the next few weeks, Sunghoon settled into a routine: joining you in the living room, drinking a beer, and staying by your side until you grew tired and went to bed.

What fascinated him the most was the way you always respected his space—letting him sit in silence when he needed it or patiently answering his questions about the match when he felt talkative. You were always patient and considerate, even in the face of his coldness.

Over time, Sunghoon began to see you differently. You weren’t as naive or opportunistic as he’d first thought. You were kind, thoughtful, and kind of sweet.

Tonight was no different. You were curled up at the corner of the sofa, your legs stretched out on the comfy cushions. Your large eyes were glued to the game on TV, the screen’s reflection glinting off your glasses. The scent of your perfume lingered in the room, distracting Sunghoon and making it hard for him to focus on the match.

“Did you know I hate basketball?” Sunghoon asks, drawing your attention as you glance at him briefly.

“I know you do,” you respond with a shy smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I just don’t know why.”

Sunghoon stays silent for a few moments, debating whether he should tell you. His gaze drifts to your face, studying your expression. Your eyes remain locked on his, a calm and gentle look etched on your features.

“Well…” he begins, shifting his focus back to the TV. “My dad made me play basketball when I was younger and forced me to quit ice skating. He said ice skating was ‘too girly’ and that I needed to man up.” Sunghoon’s voice is steady, but his eyes stay fixed on the television. "Ice skating was my passion and he took it away from me. I was young and it confused me so much..."

Your gaze, however, never wavers from his face. You notice how hesitant he seems to meet your eyes. You understand this is a sensitive topic, and a small wave of relief washes over you, knowing he trusts you enough to share it.

“I’ve hated basketball ever since. Well, until a few weeks ago, I guess. Now, I can’t sleep without coming here to watch you watch a game.” His words bring a proud smile to your lips.

“See? I’m such a good wife. I make you face your fears,” you tease, a playful grin spreading across your face as your eyes remain on his.

He doesn’t respond, simply leaning back against the pillow and letting out a deep breath. Sensing he needs space now, you quietly shift your attention back to the screen, giving him the room to process.

Yawning, Sunghoon, reached for his phone, only to see no new messages. She hadn’t replied to him today—not that he’d called, only texted. Frustrated, he tossed the phone onto the coffee table and leaned back, closing his eyes. Soon, his thoughts were clouded with memories of his ex-fiancée.

She’d been a good friend when they first started dating, always supportive and caring when he was feeling down. But as the relationship progressed, she became more controlling. At first, Sunghoon thought it was normal—maybe she was just trying to protect him. So he went along with it. He let her tell him to change his clothes when she thought he looked “too good.”

Sunghoon, a simple man who had grown up starved for love due to a lack of parental affection. He fell deeply in love with her, mainly because she was the only one giving him the attention he needed. So, blinded by his feelings, he failed to notice how much control she was beginning to exert over his life.

First, she forbade him from going out with his male friends. Then he wasn’t allowed to drink unless she was around. Eventually, she started going through his phone. Sunghoon didn’t see a problem with any of it—he had nothing to hide, and he was so in love that he couldn’t see anyone but her.

When they got engaged, Sunghoon and his fiancée moved in with his father. The house was massive and soulless, drained of warmth and happiness after his mother left. His father wanted Sunghoon close by to teach him about managing the family business, so the arrangement seemed ideal.

When his mother found out that Sunghoon was living in her old home, she decided she would visit occasionally to check on him. She knew how difficult his father could be.

One day, when she arrived, she was greeted by the sound of shouting. Her heart raced as she rushed toward the bustling scene, fearing the worst.

What she saw left her horrified. Sunghoon’s fiancée had just slapped him across the face. The old woman felt sick to her stomach, tears forming in her eyes as she stormed into the kitchen.

“What is going on here?” she demanded, her voice stern and echoing off the walls.

Neither of them answered. Sunghoon stared at his feet, his right cheek stinging from the slap. He should have been angry, but all he felt was fear—fear of what his lover might say or do.

“Nothing. I was being controlling, and she just defended herself,” Sunghoon finally muttered, his voice barely audible, his eyes refusing to meet his mother’s.

She didn’t believe him. She had already noticed how that woman carried herself around the house, acting as though she owned it. Her posture was always stiff, her chin held high, and her words—sharp and venomous—always seemed to pierce through Sunghoon, planting doubts in his mind and making him believe them.

But before his mother could say another word, Sunghoon grabbed his fiancée’s hand and pulled her out of the kitchen. As he left, he caught a glimpse of his mother’s worried expression but chose to ignore it.

Sunghoon opens his eyes suddenly and notices you still leaning against the sofa, your attentive gaze fixed on the screen as the game unfolds. He picks up his beer, taking another sip, but his attention suddenly shifts to you. The way you always treat him so gently unsettles him. You're always there—helping with his clothes, making him food, offering your company. He doesn’t like to dwell on it, but the affectionate way you look at him makes him wonder why he’s been so distant and harsh toward you.

You don’t deserve it.

As if she somehow sensed his thoughts about you, Sunghoon’s phone lights up with a message from his ex-fiancée. She casually explains that she’s been busy—on a date. She spares no details, ensuring he knows everything. From the red dress she wore to the perfume she used, and even the sex she had with the man afterward. Sunghoon’s eyes grow watery as he reads it, hating the way she always twists the knife.

“You know, you can always put your phone in sleep mode,” you replied playfully, taking a sip of your beer.

“What?” Sunghoon asks, his attention snapping to your face.

“Didn’t you wake up because of the notification sounds?” you ask, your brows knitting together in genuine curiosity.

“Oh…” Sunghoon murmurs. “Wait, I was sleeping?” he asks, confused—he hadn’t taken his pills yet.

You give him a puzzled look in return. “Yes, you were even snoring,” you tease, shifting your gaze back to the screen to hide a laugh.

“I don’t snore!” Sunghoon protests, annoyed, but as soon as he catches the mischievous smile on your lips, he softens. Realizing you’re just teasing him, he can’t help but chuckle.

You don’t say anything else, simply adjusting your glasses and returning your attention to the match. But Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you, burning holes into your frame as he stares without shame. You shift slightly, straightening your back and subtly pushing out your chest—just enough to give him something nice to look at.

Sunghoon doesn’t even realize he’s staring until he becomes aware of the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you breathe. The shirt you’re wearing today is more revealing than usual, offering him a glimpse of your bare cleavage. As if that weren’t enough, the sweet scent of your perfume fills his senses again, leaving him utterly mesmerized.

He leans back against the pillow and closes his eyes, trying to banish the thoughts of you from his mind—your pleading eyes, your intoxicating scent, your undeniably beautiful face. Before he realizes it, his body relaxes, and he falls asleep once more, this time with you on his mind.

After a few minutes of silence, you glance to your side, only to find Sunghoon snuggled up on the sofa, his lips softly pouting as he sleeps peacefully. A small smile creeps onto your face at the sight, glad that he’s finally found rest.

The reason you invited him to spend time in the living room with you, was to help him establish a routine and eventually fall asleep naturally—without needing his pills.

Sunghoon thought you didn’t know about them, but you did. Some of those pills weren’t just regular sleeping aids. They were a mysterious drug that might make him sleep, but they gave him restless nights and vivid nightmares. The worst part being, he seemed to be addicted to them. You’d first noticed it when, one night, you caught him wandering the house, unable to sleep with just the usual pills.

Getting up from your seat, you search for a fluffy blanket and gently drape it over him. You hope he’ll stay on the sofa all night—a sign that his sleeping habits might finally be improving.

As you walk toward your bedroom, your thoughts drift to where he could have gotten those pills. And you silently pray that your suspicions are wrong.

The next morning, you woke up feeling energized and positive. Driven by a craving for something salty and delicious, you got out of bed and headed straight to the kitchen.

Soft music played in the background as you cooked, your body swaying slightly to the rhythm while you happily prepared breakfast.

As you turned around to start washing some plates, you jumped slightly, startled to find Sunghoon standing against the door frame. There was a different look in his eyes as he examined you—your revealing shirt from yesterday still on your skin, attracting his eyes like a magnet.

Then, after sniffing the new aroma in the air, his curious eyes moved past you, focusing on the stove to check what you were cooking.

He had woken up to the gentle sound of the music and the smell of freshly made food. The things between you seem to be going alright, so he thought he might try joining you for breakfast this morning.

Your cheeks flushed red under his intense gaze, unaccustomed to receiving this much attention from him.

“Good morning,” Sunghoon said, his deep, teasing voice carrying a hint of playfulness as a small smile tugged at his plump lips.

Not used to speaking with him in the morning, his raspy voice caught you off guard. “Good morning, Sunghoon,” you replied with a soft smile.

As you set the side dishes on the table, Sunghoon’s eyes remained on the food. It must have taken you at least two hours to prepare all this, and he was quietly impressed by your effort and dedication.

When you finally sat down next to him at the table, you noticed his phone light up with notifications—three times, to be exact. Whoever was texting seemed insistent.

“You’re going to keep ignoring that?” you asked, curious, as you scooped a spoonful of rice into your mouth.

Sunghoon gave you a brief, questioning look, his thick left eyebrow arching. When you met his gaze, he quickly looked away and continued eating.

“I don’t feel like responding,” he said suddenly after a stretch of silence.

You rolled your eyes and slid his phone closer to his hand.

“What if it’s something important?” you asked, half-concerned, half-curious to see his reaction.

Sunghoon picked up his phone but ignored your question. His long fingers tapped on the screen quickly, and you averted your gaze, not wanting to seem like you were staring.

<Aren’t you going to say anything? Yesterday, from: true wife>

<Hey, don’t leave me hanging, Hubby!! Yesterday, from: true wife>

<Good morning to you too. Is everything okay? Today, from: true wife>

<You’ve been more distant lately… Today, from: true wife>

Sunghoon sighed as he read the texts, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so desperate for his attention.

After a deep breath, he quickly typed a response: I’m okay. I’ve just been busier, that’s all.

Once sent, he locked his phone and pushed it aside. Right now, his focus was on how he would manage to eat all the delicious food you’d prepared.

“These tastes exactly like my mom used to make!” Sunghoon exclaimed, his mouth full, and eyes sparkling with joy as he looked at you.

“I know,” you replied with a sly smile, your tone implying something else.

Sunghoon turns his head to face you, giving you a confused look, his eyebrows knitting together. But you avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the food on your plate. You have secrets too—secrets he has no idea.

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[speaknow-sw]

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂

Summary : The backseat of James car seems like a good place to lose your virginity.

Word Count : 1.8k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, age gap, James is 33 reader is 18, lost of virginity, first time, nipple sucking, car sex, kissing, PiV, clit toying, inappropriate use of lipstick.

AN : Okay so…I’m obsessed with Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae annnnnd I decided to give it his one-shot with the man of the year : James Kelly. Enjoy lovelies cuz this one sucks.

The night is warm, the air thick with summer heat as you slip into James Kelly’s car, your breath hitching in your throat. He’s behind the wheel, his grip firm, the glint of his cross gold chain catching the dim streetlight as he turns to look at you. His eyes linger, dark and heavy, on the curve of your body wrapped in those ripped blue jeans he can’t stop staring at.

“He’s a keeper,” you think, catching your own reflection in the window as you pull down the mirror to check your lipstick. But it’s his cross you see, a reminder of the tension that crackles between the two of you, the contrast of sin and sanctity making your heart race.

He notices, and a slow smile spreads across his face, one that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “You look good,” he says, his voice a low rumble, one that makes your stomach flip.

You feel his gaze slide down your body, resting on your legs, and you shift slightly, aware of every inch of space between you. You know what he’s thinking; he’s told you before, late at night, in the kind of whispers that aren’t meant to be shared but somehow always are when it’s just the two of you. “Those jeans,” he murmurs, “make your ass look incredible.”

You blush, your cheeks red like cherries in the spring, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against your thigh. The touch is electric, sending a shiver up your spine as you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. He pulls his hand back, resting it on the gearshift, but the heat of his touch lingers on your skin.

“Let’s get out of here baby,” he says, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life, the vibrations pulsing through your body as you buckle your seatbelt, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

As he drives, you can’t help but steal glances at him, at the way his hands grip the wheel, the muscles in his arms flexing with each turn. The city lights blur outside the window, and you lose track of time, of place, of everything but the way he makes you feel—alive, reckless, untamed.

When he finally pulls into an empty parking lot, the silence is deafening. He turns off the car, and for a moment, neither of you moves. The air between you is thick, heavy with unspoken words, and you can feel the heat of his body even though you’re not touching.

Then, without a word, he reaches for you, pulling you into his lap. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, but you don’t resist. You can’t. His hands are on your hips, guiding you, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you as you settle against him.

“James…” you whisper, but he cuts you off with a kiss, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. You can taste the Pepsi on his lips, the sweetness mixed with something darker, something that makes you dizzy.

His hands slide up your back, under your shirt, and you arch into him, your body responding to his touch with a need that surprises you. This is new territory, uncharted, and yet it feels like you’ve been here before, like you’ve always known this is where you’d end up—with him, in this car, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

He pulls back, just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Say you love me,” he whispers, his voice rough, desperate.

“I love you,” you breathe, the words spilling out of you before you can think, before you can second-guess. And as soon as you say it, you know it’s true. You do love him—this wild, reckless love that makes you feel like you’re on the edge of something dangerous, something you can’t pull back from even if you wanted to.

His smile is like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and he kisses you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the way his fingers dig into you, grounding you even as you feel like you’re floating, weightless.

James' hands roamed up your body, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and jeans. He leaned in, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with lust as he admired your body, taking it all in. The tenderness of his gaze belied the animalistic hunger that consumed him. He reached for the clasp of your bra, fumbling with it for a brief moment before releasing your breasts from their confines.

He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking gently before moving to the other. You gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His other hand slid down your body, unzipping your jeans as he fumbled with the button.

He pushed your jeans and panties down your legs, helping you to slide them off, leaving you completely naked in the dimly lit car. He admired you for a moment, his eyes drinking in every curve and dip.

Your breath caught in her throat as James's skilled fingers found your slick heat, parting your folds with ease. You writhed beneath his touch, your body writhing in wanton need. Your head rolled back against the seat, your eyes closed, drowning in the sensations that crashed over you like waves.

James's thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, and you let out a moan, a low, guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through the car. Your hips bucked against his hand, each movement seeking more, begging for the release you’d never known.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you want me to make you come, dollface?"

You nodded, your voice caught in her throat, the only response your body could muster.

James continued his assault on your senses, his thumb relentless, his fingers delving deeper into your core. Your body arched, nails digging into the leather seat as you fought to stay grounded, to stay tethered to reality.

With a slick motion, James's hand withdrew, leaving you panting, eyes fluttering open. He quickly unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans down, his erection springing free, hard and throbbing. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, your body humming with anticipation.

As James buries himself inside you, you can't help but gasp at the fullness, the warmth, the sensation of being filled. It hurts but it’s so good, so right…Your eyes meet his, your pupils dilating in the low light, and you feel a sudden, intense connection between the two of you.

He withdraws almost entirely, leaving you quivering and needy, before plunging back into you. The pace is slow, deliberate, as if he's savoring the moment as much as you are. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending alive and tingling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You feel incredible, you know that, doll?" His fingers dig into your hips, gripping you tightly.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat, lost in the sensations and the intensity of the moment. James starts to move faster, his thrusts deep and powerful, leaving you breathless, your moans growing louder, more desperate. "Huh…such a pretty little sight, gonna keep you around my cock like the lil’ sweetheart you are, huh baby ? Lemme take care of you, i’m older, wiser, experienced, I can give you everythin’ my sweet girl…"He grunted manly and your walls clenched against him as you moaned loudly.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. His hands roam over your body, leaving trails of fire wherever they touch. He cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple, and you arch into his hand, your body hungry for more.

He leans down, his lips capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he continues to thrust into you. The rhythm is hypnotic, pulling you deeper into the sensations, the pleasure building within you like a crescendo.

You feel his hand slip between your legs, his fingers trailing over your clit, teasing you mercilessly. The combination of his touch, his grunts and his thrusts is too much, pushing you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as you shatter, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave.

James doesn't stop, his thrusts growing harder, more determined, as he continues to pound into you. You feel him tense, his body shuddering as he releases into you, the warmth of his release filling you completely.

The windows fog up as you lose yourself in him, in the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. It’s a blur of sensation, of lips and hands and heat, and you let go, surrendering to the moment, to him.

You can’t tell where he ends and you begin, the two of you intertwined in a tangle of limbs and breathless moans. And when it’s over, when the car is filled with the scent of sweat and something sweeter, you collapse against him, your heart racing.

He tilts your chin up, looking at you with a kind of awe, like he can’t believe you’re real. “You’re mine, my girl,” he says, his voice soft, possessive.

“Yours,” you agree, because it’s true. You’ve always been his, even before you knew it.

With a wicked grin, you reach into your bag and pull out your lipstick, the sweet pink shade that always makes you feel calm, warm. His breath hitches as you twist the tube, the scent of cherries filling the air. Leaning in, you press the tip of the lipstick to his chest, just above his heart, and slowly, deliberately, you begin to scrawl your name across his skin. Each letter is a claim, a promise, the pink pigment leaving a vivid trail that stands out stark against his tanned skin. You can feel his heartbeat quicken beneath your fingertips, and you smile, satisfied, as you finish the last stroke. Stepping back, you admire your handiwork, your name emblazoned on him like a brand, a reminder that he’s yours, marked in a way that no one else ever will be.

“Let’s go, sweets” he says finally, but there’s no rush in his voice, no urgency. You know you have all the time in the world—time to break all the rules, to get caught, to fall deeper into this wild love that’s taken hold of you both.

And as you drive away, the city lights blurring into the distance, you can’t help but smile, knowing that you’re his baby, his everything, and that this is just the start of something unforgettable.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : IMAGINE TAKING CARE OF OLDMAN!LOGAN AFTER HE COMES HOME FROM A VERY EXHAUSTED DAY AT WORK : :;

Logan staggered through the door, shoulders hunched, his body weighed down with the weariness of another hard day. His face was a mask of exhaustion, but when his tired eyes found you, standing in the kitchen, they softened just a little. The scent of dinner filled the air, something warm, something familiar. You walked over, meeting him halfway, and without a word, you placed a hand on his chest, guiding him gently to the table.

"Sit," you said softly, your voice carrying a tenderness he didn't realize he needed. "I made your favorite."

He collapsed into the chair, letting out a grunt as he did, the tension in his body uncoiling just slightly. The sight of the meal, cooked just for him, made something in his chest loosen.

"You didn’t have to do all this," he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness. It was soft, almost grateful.

"I wanted to," you replied, setting a plate in front of him before sitting beside him. "You deserve a break, Logan."

He dug into the meal with slow, deliberate movements, too tired to say much more. You sat in quiet companionship, the warmth of the food and the presence of each other bringing a kind of peace neither of you spoke about but both felt.

After dinner, you caught his eye as he leaned back in the chair, hand rubbing his bearded chin. “That thing’s getting a little wild,” you teased, giving him a soft smile.

He huffed a small laugh. “Can’t seem to find the time.”

“Come on, let me help.”

You led him to the bathroom, where he sat heavily in front of the mirror. Taking the clippers, you began trimming his beard, your movements slow and careful. His eyes drifted shut under your touch, his body finally giving in to the calm you brought him. There was a vulnerability in the air—something raw in the way he let you care for him.

When you were done, you set the clippers aside and brushed a thumb across his freshly trimmed jaw. He caught your wrist, his rough hand holding you there for a moment as he opened his eyes and looked at you, gratitude swimming beneath the surface.

“Thanks,” he murmured, voice gruff.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered back, kissing his forehead lightly.

You helped him out of his clothes next, peeling off the grime and weight of the day. He let you undress him, too tired to resist or feel self-conscious about how much he needed you in this moment. You led him to the shower, the warm water cascading over him as you helped wash away the day. Your hands worked gently across his tired body, massaging the tension from his muscles, careful with the scars that told stories of battles past.

When he stepped out, clean and refreshed, you were waiting with a towel, wrapping him up and guiding him toward the bed. He sank into the mattress, eyes heavy with fatigue, but there was a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there earlier. You climbed in beside him, pressing your body against his, running a hand across his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

“You’re always taking care of me,” Logan said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how you do it.”

You pressed soft kisses to his temple, then his jaw, feeling the freshly trimmed scruff beneath your lips. “Because I love you,” you murmured. “And because you deserve it. You work so hard, Logan. You carry so much.”

His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as your lips traced the line of his neck, your breath warm against his skin. You felt the tension in his body melt as you continued your gentle touches, your words coming out as a soft whisper. “You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

His grip on your waist tightened as you kissed your way down his chest, each kiss carrying the weight of your love and admiration. His breath hitched slightly, and his eyes fluttered open, catching yours in the dim light.

"Let me show you just how proud I am," you whispered, your voice low, filled with promise.

Logan’s eyes darkened, a mix of exhaustion and desire swirling in them as you slid your hand down his body, your touch deliberate, teasing. His lips parted, but he said nothing, just watching you with that raw, vulnerable look. You moved over him, your lips brushing his with a tenderness that made his breath hitch again, and when you finally deepened the kiss, he responded, his tired body awakening under your touch.

“You’ve done enough today,” you murmured against his lips. “Let me take care of the rest.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Logan let himself go, surrendering completely to you, to the love and the care you offered him.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

I LOVE LOVE LOVE OLDMAN!LOGAN 🫶

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Also, part 5 of ‘Stay With Me’ will air tomorrow! So stay tuned y’all!

(If you have any requests, feel free to drop them in my inbox or send me a message)

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

It Only Takes One

Jason has never felt more useless in his life. There's a gun to your head, and all he can do is watch. ~1.2k words

You're kneeling in front of him. Any other time, he would be fighting the heat that threatens to rise to his face. Any other time, he would be reaching out to cup the back of your head, eager to guide you closer. But it's not any other time. There's a gun pressed to where Jason's fingers should be on your scalp, and Jason feels cold.

The armor of his Red Hood gear is too tight. He can't tell what your expression is under your domino mask. He wonders if you're scared. It would be worse if you weren't, if you trust him enough to save you.

He doesn't hear most of Falcone's speech, he's too busy desperately thinking of a way to save you. He can't seem to come up with one. The cold metal of the gun is against your head and he's halfway across the room from you. He doesn't know how to save you.

Falcone shoves the barrel of the gun against your head. It takes every inch of Jason's self-control not to lurch forward. "You really thought there wouldn't be consequences for burning down my warehouses, did you," Falcone asks, smug and confident.

"I'll admit the two of you have been a real problem for me," he continues, nudging your leg with his foot in feigned disgust. He looks up from you to meet Red Hood's gaze, "But it only takes one good bullet to deal with issues like this."

Jason does surge forward at that, and the henchmen at either side of him force him back down to his knees.

Falcone just laughs. "Ah, ah, hot shot," he knocks back the safety and Jason's ears start to ring, "wouldn't want your partner to spill their brains everywhere. Not when we haven't had any real fun."

You still look so calm. Even as he thrashes and writhes against the men holding him down, you're kneeling like there's not a thing wrong. Like your life doesn't hang in the balance, like just one twitch of Falcones finger wouldn't take away the person Jason needs most.

All his training, all his skills and reflexes, all has come down to nothing. Because he can't save you. He can't stop the cruel smiles that form on the thugs around you. He can't find a way to cross the room and get to you before the trigger gets pulled.

"Don't shoot," he snaps out, all the panic and fear he's feeling filtered out through the helmet in a false bravado, "Aren't they more useful alive?"

Falcone scoffs and kicks you again, "Neither of you are useful."

"I could be," Jason promises. He could be. He could be anything to keep you safe, "I used to run more territory in Gotham than you've ever seen. I have an in with The Bat. I'm the best at what I do, and you know it."

Interest speaks in Falcones' eyes. Good. He should be focused on Red Hood. He should be lowering that gun a fraction of an inch. He should consider everything Jason would do for you. The lines he would cross. The people he'd hurt. He'd change the world to get you home safe.

Falcone lowers the gun completely. Jason wants to be relieved, but you still have other guns trained on you. You're still in danger.

Falcone takes a step closer to him, "Alright, Hood, I'm in a good mood tonight. So, let's make a deal. You tell me who Batman is, maybe do me a few favors, and you and your partner are free to go."

"They leave first, and then we talk," Jason counters. As if he'd risk you getting shot.

Faclone tuts and points his gun back towards you, "That's not how this works, son."

Red Hood stiffens. He doesn't feel like a hero right now, he rarely ever does. But in this moment, he's weak. Pathetic. He has one chance to keep you safe, and he's going to take it. Jason opens his mouth to speak.

Glass shatters and smoke fills the room. Instinct kicks in and Jason's thrown off the men holding him down before Falcone even has a chance to bark out orders. Nothing else matters but getting his hands on you.

There's yelling. None he recognizes. He breaks more bones than he has in weeks. Blood splatters onto his armor.

When the smoke finally starts to clear, Jason scans the room desperately. Every single goon is knocked unconscious on the floor. Falcone's in handcuffs, limp on the floor.

He's lucky that Red Robin and Spoiler got to him first. Jason is more than inclined to remind him why Red Hood was the most powerful crime lord Gotham's ever known.

"Hey-" your voice cuts into his darker thoughts. Jason doesn't hesitate to move towards you and grab your waist with both hands, tugging you against him.

He scans your face, "Are you hurt?" He's frantic, his hands hold you just a little too tight, he's crowding your space. Jason's aware of all of this, but he only pulls you closer.

"I'm okay. I'm not hurt. Are you?" You say, pressing your hands to the leather of his jacket.

His shoulders slump and he drops his head to rest his face plate against your forehead, "I'm– fine." He takes a moment, a selfish minute to focus on your breathing.

He pulls back to nod towards Spoiler and Red Robin, "We're leaving." Jason doesn't bother to check if they acknowledge him, only pulls you along to the balcony.

He's more shaken than he wants to admit. He needs to get both of you out of here, somewhere safe. You follow him willingly, don't say a word until he's led you all the way home to your apartment.

You don't try to talk him out of anything, not when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you close. You let him toss his helmet to the ground and hide his face in your shoulder.

Jason's not sure how long it stays like that. Your armor digs into his skin. He's sure his own suit is doing the same. You play with the ends of his hair. He tries to keep his heartbeat steady.

Jason nearly convinces himself that both of you are safe. That it's going to be okay. He almost believes it until you speak up.

"Were you going to tell him?" You ask quietly, so softly he might have missed it if his every sense wasn't trained on you.

"Tell him?" He mumbles in your neck. Jason knows exactly what you're talking about. But he's stalling. There's no way to really answer.

You don't respond. He doesn't answer.

Of course, he was going to tell him. Of course, he was going to put everyone they've ever cared about or loved in danger.

You know that. You have to know that if you don't ask again. There's not a thing he wouldn't give to keep you alive, to keep you happy and healthy and safe.

He'd trade any secret, commit any atrocity, betray everyone who ever trusted him, all for you. But how can he put that into words? He can't. Doesn't know how. And you don't deserve the burden of that. He can't lay something so heavy at your feet.

He holds you tighter instead. The silence is answer enough.

[madthetruemad]

android!john price x human!reader, or in which you seek a human companion after many years of being alone.

+18, smut, mdni, etc.

You were a fidgety mess as you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your eyes continually glance towards the door as you waited for your name to be called.

The office you were waiting in was like a dating service of sorts. It was for people who had trouble connecting with others. So, to help, one could get assigned or "matched" with a android.

The android could be your friend, a guide, ... a lover. Whatever you need, the android will help. And the android also had a choice too. Some seek companionship as humans do. Others are just fascinated by the whole human emotion concept in general.

Whatever it was, both humans and androids wanted to help each other. To better understand or to just not be alone in the world. And it seemed to help.

You were broken out of your thoughts when your name was called. The doctor beckoning to you to the door as you got up and collected your purse.

"Morning, how are you doing today?"

You smiled at the doctor, "I'm good... though, I am curious about the match?"

It was normal to be nervous. Because sometimes there were people who couldn't even match with an android.

The doctor smiled at you, "luckily we found the perfect partner for you."

You cringed at how she said it. You didn't want the android, whoever they were, to feel like they were being forced into a relationship after all.

She stopped in front of a door, "he's in there."

"Do I just go in?"

"That's all there is to it."

"What if he changes his mind about being with me?"

The doctor chuckled softly at you and ushered you forward, forcing you to open the door with her closing it behind you.

You aren't ready for this, you decided. And just as you were about to back out, someone greeted you.

"Morning love, I was wondering when I would get to meet you face to face."

Putting a on a brave face that consisted of a kind smile and easygoing eyes, you turned towards the voice.

“Morning, uhm… sorry, she didn’t tell me your name.”

“Neither did she tell me yours.”

He stood up from the chair that was situated at the table in the middle of the room, his form was towering. You wondered how he was created in such a way, but quickly stuffed the idea away.

You held out your hand and gave out your name, your eyes holding every anxious thought within them as you hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, “you can call me John.”

He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your gesture, much to your relief. And when his hand fitted into your own, you were taken aback a little by how warm it was. Your surprise caused him to chuckle which, in turn, caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Now love, I know why I am here, but how about you? What are you looking for the moment you set through those doors?”

He was still holding your hand (most likely to track your heart rate) while his eyes were trained on yours. You wondered silently if he even needed to blink.

“I want a partner… a romantic one. Someone who I can go on dates with, cuddle with in the evenings, and… and be intimate with. That’s what I am looking for.”

You barely managed the confidence to say all of that. Though, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to shrivel up at every single admitted word that fell from your lips. A whole part of you felt so greedy, so selfish. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea-

“Good.”

“G- good?”

He moved his hand to grip at your wrist and gently tugged you forward to where you fell into his chest, “because love, that’s what I was looking for too. It may be hard to believe, but even androids can love.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips, “and I wouldn’t doubt that at all.”

“Then, would you allow me to take you out on a date so we could properly get to know each other?”

Deciding to just stop worrying for once, you played along. A giddy smile on your lips as you leaned in, “if you would be so kind to escort me, good sir.”

To say the least, you never made it to your little date.

Instead, you had brought him to your home so you could get ready, though, what ended up in you changing your clothes was him politely knocking on your door to help you out which eventually led into him helping you into bed.

A date could always wait for another day, right?

Sure, you were doing things backwards, but with how John had your legs folded up to your chests, you doubted that he cared.

“Ahhh, look at you, love, your cunt is just swallowing me whole.”

He pressed his weight down onto you, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he thrusted into you. His dick plunging and marking your walls, forcing your nerves to remember him. As a steady and hard plap – plap – plap echoed into the room along with your moans and sweet whimpers every time his tip kissed your cervix.

You scratched at his back, your nails digging into his all too real skin as you tried to thrust your hips back into him, desperate for him to go deeper, harder. Removing one of his hands from your hips, he moved his fingers down to your dripping cunt, with precise and careful movements, he started to gently rub at your clit. The way you moaned so loud for him as that thread snapped within you. Your walls clenching hard around him as you came around his hard length. The mere feel of you squeezing his cock had him gushing. His cum that filled you may match the white color of a human man’s but was otherwise just harmless warm fluid created and stored, only to be used in such situations as these.

And to say the least, you were his first partner who let him cum inside, and as he watched you try to catch your breath, he finally released your legs from the mean mating press he had you in. And before he could pull out of you, you had already locked your legs around his waist.

“Again?”

You were breathless, but craved for more. To match with someone like you.. he was truly lucky.

“Only if you’ll ride me this time,” he said flipping you both over so he was now on his back and you were straddling his waist, his cock stiff snuggly inside you.

“With pleasure, and then maybe we can go out on that date later?”

“Whatever you want and more, love. I’m all yours, just as you’re mine.”

[todaystarot]

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught ~

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader

masterlist

Warnings:Language, Fingering, Smut&Fluff, Choking, Thigh Riding, Praise Kink, Breeding Kink(kinda), Aggressive Sex

You, Mattheo, Theo, Draco, Blaise, and Lorenzo had been best friends since you first met each other on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. It was so simple up until your fourth year when girls started hating you for how close you were with the pack of Slytherins. Every girl that wanted them seemed to think you did too, when in reality you just wanted the one.

Ever since you knew what it meant to like someone, you liked Mattheo Riddle. You just couldn’t explain it, where everyone else saw a rude and careless jerk, all you saw was a damaged and neglected boy who needed to be shown what it meant to be loved. You never expected him to like you back and you definitely never expected to be in an almost year long secret relationship with him.

You knew your friends, and girls Mattheo had never talked to nor thought of talking to, would react negatively and possessively. So when Mattheo finally admitted he had been developing feelings for you halfway into your sixth year, you came to a mutual agreement to keep it a secret.

Just until graduation.

You knew it wasn’t smart by any means but the late nights alone together at the top of the Astronomy Tower. And the walks around the Black Lake after curfew. And nights spent sneaking to the kitchen just for an excuse to spend more time together, were the nights you would remember most. You were meant for each other, and neither of you wanted your idiotic peers to ruin it before it could properly begin.

When Mattheo saw you walking his direction on the way to breakfast on a Saturday morning he gave you a subtle nod towards an empty classroom. You made sure it was clear, and excitedly entered after him. Almost as soon as you shut the door completely you were pressed against it with Mattheo’s hands on either side of your head, towering over you.

“I haven’t gotten enough time alone with you this past month,” He spoke, as though just accepting that fact hurt him, “So, I’ve told the boys I’m tutoring a third year and can’t make it to Hogsmeade with them. I expect you’ll find an excuse to stay behind before breakfast ends, right Princess?” He smiled at you as he brought his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Definitely.” You had been unable to spend more than an hour together ever since lessons and his Quidditch practice started picking up and you were eager to get a whole day with him.

“I want you to try something new for me Princess.” He smiled while you eyed him suspiciously, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, if you don’t like it we’ll never do it again.”

“…okayyy, are yo-“

“Great. Come to my dorm when you’re done eating.” You couldn’t get a question out as he placed a peck to your cheek and slipped out the door behind you.

You were straddling his lap as he sat against his headboard less than an hour later with you hands in his hair as his ran up and down your body and his lips explored your neck. Before long he readjusted your hips so you were now straddling his thigh instead of his lap.

“Alright, time for my request,” He watched your face contort into confusion with a smile and wiggle of his eyebrows, “I want you to ride my thigh Princess,” Your face lit up bright red as your hands gripped his shoulders.

“I- you what?” You were confused but there was no denying the wetness growing between your legs as he placed his hands firmly on your hips ready to guide you as he whispered in your ear slower this time, “I want you to ride my thigh,” He roughly bit at your neck making you instinctively buck forward, the rough fabric of his jeans against your clothed core making you shiver, “I want to watch you come all over my pants before I fuck you Princess,” Mattheo could feel the growing puddle in your now damp underwear as he licked up your neck with a groan before meeting your eyes.

“Come on Baby, for me?” He leaned his head back with a tiny pout and light tug on your hips. The feeling only the smallest movement gave you had you giving in and bucking forward on his leg in a matter of seconds. As you grind yourself on him you let your moans slip out of your mouth as Mattheo watches your face intently.

“Mm, you like that Baby? Oh fuck I thought you would.” He practically moans, looking at your movements on his thigh as he spoke. As you sped up your movements and knocked your head back one of his hands shot up to your jaw with a firm grip bringing your eyes to his.

“You’re gonna keep looking at me if you want to cum Princess. Understand?” You nodded as much as you could in his hand as he arched an eyebrow at you. His free hand snaked around you to your back, stopping your movements on his thigh, “Use that beautiful voice of yours, okay Baby?”

“Okay, I understand,” You whimpered as he moved his hand from your back to your hip, guiding your movements once more. “Good girl, I think you deserve a reward.” He was now holding your hips in his other hand as well as he guided you towards your orgasm. Before long you were a moaning mess on top of him, your back arching as you kept eye contact while coming undone above him. Almost as soon as you came he was flipping you over with his thigh still between your legs as he fumbled to remove your shirt, quickly becoming annoyed and ripping it apart allowing the buttons to scatter across his floor.

Your gasp and moans were suppressed as he pulled you up into a kiss and removed the remnants of your shirt. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he leant back to watch you with a smile, he let you slightly struggle with the belt before you unfastened it and pulled it from it’s loops. “Good job Princess,”

His praises had you moving faster as you both removed each others clothes, throwing them in different directions while smashing your lips together and laying back on the bed as soon as you were both fully exposed.

Mattheo readjusted to watch your face as he slowly pushed himself inside you with a moan. You squirmed around him and shut your eyes before his actions stopped and his hand slithered up to your neck with a soft but dominant grip. “What did I say Princess?”

You quickly opened your eyes while mumbling his previous order back to him before he immediately began plowing inside of you, gripping the sides of your neck harder. His thrusts were rough and fast as he maintained eye contact with you, fucking you at a steady pace as you began to moan loudly.

He was practically driving you into the mattress as his speed pushed you slightly up towards the headboard before both his hands grabbed your hips and pulled them towards him as you yelped. He moaned while he positioned your legs along his chest fucking you faster still, hitting angles he hadn’t before. Your moans quickly became higher in pitch as your walls fluttered around him, back arching while you came on his dick.

His pace remained steady as he let you throw your head back and close your eyes as he fucked you through your orgasm. His actions slowed slightly, “Look at me Princess.” His voice was demanding and laced with lust, when your eyes met his again they were even darker from being disobeyed yet again.

Mattheo shoved your legs away as he pushed himself forward onto you, his hand gripped the back of your neck as he rested his forehead on yours, speeding up his movements to an unrelenting pace you’d never felt before. You were practically screaming his name as he chuckled and lightly smacked the side of your thigh that now tightly wrapped around his waist. He smashed his lips onto yours as his eyes shut, silently giving you permission to do the same while both your moans were drowned in the sloppy, sensual kiss you shared.

The kiss seemed to egg him on as Mattheo’s thrusts became irregular before he stilled, muscles twitching as he came inside of you. He immediately slid up and out of you as he shoved two of his fingers inside of you, moving them quickly against your g-spot pulling out your final orgasm.

Mattheo slowly pulled his fingers from you, chuckling at your whimper before bringing his fingers to your mouth for you to suck them clean. Mattheo then reached to his bedside table for a towel and cleaned his and your own cum from your thighs before kissing and licking at the many marks his lips and hands had made.

“You did so good for me Princess,” You smile at him while his lips work to pamper your body while repeatedly telling you how much he loves you. He then plops himself down next to you as you both turn to look at each other, “I really do love you, you know that right?”

“Yes,” you chuckled at him with a slight shake of your head, “and I love you too Mattheo,” He smiled at you slightly before looking away.

You both lay on your sides still out of breath and facing each other as Mattheo plays with your fingers before his eyes found yours, speaking again, “So, I was thinking that…maybe…if you’re okay with it…we could try and tell the others?” You smiled at him as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek, his eyes fluttered shut with a happy sigh at the contact, “Of course my love, I think it’s time.”

His smile grew so large that his dimples you love so much were popping out prominently as he lay with his eyes shut still, letting you graze your fingers up and down his cheek. “We should start getting dressed, they’ll be back soon.”

He let out a childish groan as he stretched his arms out to wrap you in a tight hug, “Just five more minutes Princess,” He sighed contentedly into your neck. But five minutes turned into ten, and ten into twenty, and eventually you had been talking and cuddling for almost an hour without noticing the time. Luckily you thought to glance at your watch before shoving Mattheo, who clearly hadn’t caught on yet, off your chest mid-sentence, “Dinner’s almost over, help me find our underwear before they walk in on us naked.”

“Fuck Princess they’re definitely back already,” Mattheo rambled as he rushed to find the clothes you two had thrown somewhere around the dorm in the the heat of the moment. “I bet they’re on the way down here right now, I don’t want them to find out like this, I had this whole thing I was gonna say and everything.” You smiled at that as you searched the side of the dorm you thought you saw your underwear thrown at.

“Here’s your bra Lovely,” Mattheo said as he tossed the black piece of lace over his shoulder. When you found your underwear you quickly covered yourself with the garments and grabbed Mattheos boxers from between the mattress and frame while he was too focused on finding your clothing to worry about his bare ass. Which was pointed at the now open door revealing your best friends.

“Mattheoooo, we got yo- WAIT!! Y/N IS THE MYSTERY GIRL YOU’VE BEEN HIDING FROM US AND SNEAKING AROUND WITH?!?!” Enzo yelled in pure shock as he pushed his way past the other three larger boys, who were frozen, open mouthed in the door frame. Mattheo rushed to cover your body with his as the three stayed standing at the door, eyes wide and pointed at you.

“Sorry sorry sorry,” Enzo turned, closing his eyes while attempting, and failing, to push the others away in order to close the door.

Mattheo held his hands cupped over what he could cover of himself as he nervously bounced back and forth in front of you. The three boys remained in the door with Enzo desperately trying to get them to listen while Draco unapologetically attempted to look past Mattheo, who suddenly lost all his nervousness upon noticing this.

“Get the fuck out and stop looking at my girlfriend’s body right now or you will fucking regret it.” Mattheo snapped in a calm but demanding voice that made you wish there was time for round two.

After the door was shut you held his boxers out in front of him, “So much for the thought out speech about me being your girlfriend.” You giggled from behind him as he covered himself and grabbed his button up from the floor. He began putting it over your arms and buttoning it himself as you gave him a quizzical look.

“Since I ripped yours Princess, now get your pretty legs under the covers and I’ll invite our friends in for a civil conversation.” You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay okay, civil as long as Draco never ever looks at you that way again,” He shrugged with a smirk.

~~~~

Caught ll

Caught lll

Caught IV

Caught V

Caught VI

~~~~

[versetas]

anything for you;

nsfw. mdni. f!reader. oral (fem! receiving)

Boothill is absolutely depraved when it comes to you. There's no limit to what he'd endure or how far he'd bend to your whims, just to see that smile of yours that drives him to the brink of madness.

Tell him to sit, roll over, or bark like a dog—he’ll do it, and he won’t think twice. He’d give up his pride, kneel at your feet, and obey every word you utter without question.

Because it's not just about the commands—it’s about you. Everything is. Every little thing you do captivates him. The way you talk, the way your voice can turn from soft to teasing to commanding, making his systems overheat and short-circuit with desire. The way you look at him, the way you kiss him, like he’s the only person that matters in that moment. And the way you fuck him—God, the way you fuck him—it’s something he can never get enough of.

He’d do anything for you. And so when you leaned in close to whisper in his ear, your voice a sweet, sultry murmur as you told him how much you wanted him to eat you out, Boothill's reaction was immediate and intense. There was no hesitation in his response—no pause to weigh the consequences or assess the situation.

His focus narrowed entirely onto you.

Without a second thought, he pulled you away from the bustling party, where the Nameless had graciously invited you both to celebrate a recent victory of theirs. The music, the festivities, the clinking of glasses, and the ambient chatter—all of it faded into a distant, meaningless blur as he guided you towards the nearest bathroom.

“You’re so forkin’ needy,” he muttered as he shoved you into the cramped space, but there was no heat behind his words. He was more than happy to oblige. Your back met the cool, hard surface of the sink, and Boothill quickly maneuvered you onto its edge.

His knees hit the cold, hard tile with a thud, the sound barely registering over the pounding of his mechanical heartbeat. His eager hands roamed up your thighs, fingers curling around the hem of your sinful skirt before he yanked it upward in a swift, impatient motion.

And then he froze.

Nothing. No underwear.

Your bare, glistening pussy was there for him—waiting, exposed, dripping with anticipation. His breath hitched audibly in his throat, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, couldn’t process anything other than the overwhelming need to touch, taste, and devour you. You had planned this—there was no doubt in his mind—and the realization only served to intensify the smoldering heat pooling in his gut.

“Like what you see?” you teased, looking down at him with a wicked grin. The question hung in the air, thick with promise and expectation, and all he could do was nod, dumbly, his mouth dry and his mind a haze of need. Words failed him in that moment. All the sharp retorts, all the cocky remarks he’d usually throw your way had vanished.

You smelled amazing, and he knew you’d taste even better. The anticipation had him practically trembling. With a low, approving growl, he grabbed your leg, hiking it over his broad shoulder. 

And then, his mouth was on you.

Hot, desperate, insatiable—his lips parted eagerly as his tongue plunged into your folds with an intensity that sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling through you. The heat of his mouth, combined with the way his tongue moved, slow at first, then quickening in rhythm, made you gasp. He devoured you like a man starved, groaning against your skin as your taste overwhelmed his senses.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you pulled him closer, needing more, needing everything. His hat fell to the floor, but neither of you noticed or cared. Your hips moved instinctively, grinding against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he was giving so freely. He groaned against your folds, the deep vibration only heightening your sensitivity, making your pulse race and your thighs tremble.

Every flick, every swirl of his tongue was deliberate, designed to drive you wild. He knew exactly where to focus, teasing your clit with quick, sharp strokes before switching to slow, languid circles that made your breath catch in your throat. Each motion was calculated, expertly so that you’d remain on the edge, dangling between unbearable need and the promise of release.

Boothill’s lips sealed around your clit, and he sucked gently before releasing it, only to dive back in with a renewed intensity. You gasped, your back arching in response, the knot of tension in your stomach tightening as his relentless attention pushed you closer to the brink. The wet, sinful sounds of his mouth working you over filled the cramped bathroom, mingling with your own heavy breaths and soft, breathless moans.

It was almost unbearable, and then Boothill's tongue darted down, plunging into your drenched hole. He buried his tongue deep inside you, drawing out your sweet nectar with hungry slurps. As he felt you flutter around his pink appendage, he couldn’t help but let out a deep, guttural moan directly against your sloppy pussy, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull.

“Oh, my god… Oh, fuck…” you gasped and writhed uncontrollably, but Boothill held you firmly in place, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you spread open for his insatiable mouth.

It didn’t take long for the pressure building inside you to reach its breaking point. With a final, shuddering moan, you felt the tight knot snap. The floodgates opened, and your climax surged through you with an explosive intensity. Your body convulsed, each spasm tightening around Boothill's insistent tongue. The release was so powerful that it felt almost otherworldly, your cries mingling with the muffled sounds of his mouth still working relentlessly against you.

He should stop—he knew it, even as your trembling hands tried weakly to push him away. But how could he stop when you tasted so good, when the heat of your climax was still fresh on his tongue?

“One more, sweet girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and gravelly as he finally pulled back, his mouth glistening with your juices. He didn't leave you empty for long, though. His hand slid down between your legs, two thick fingers slipping into your soaked, eager hole with an ease that made you gasp. His other hand kept your thigh draped over his shoulder, holding you open for him as his fingers curled inside you.

“Just gimme one more,” he growled, pumping his fingers into you with a rhythm that had you arching into his touch despite your overstimulation. He was ravenous, his mouth descending once again to latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue across the swollen bundle of nerves.

Boothill wanted to feel you come apart in his hands again, to watch you shatter one more time, your sweet pussy squeezing his fingers as you fell over the edge into bliss. The pressure inside you began to build again, and despite the overwhelming intensity, you couldn't help but chase it, your hips bucking up into his mouth as your second orgasm neared.

God, he was trying to kill you. You were sure of it.

The sensations surged, and then it happened. Without warning, another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, even more intense than the first. Your vision went hazy, and a strangled moan tore from your throat—raw, desperate—more a cry than a sound. Your pussy clamped down on Boothill's fingers, gripping him so tight it almost felt as if you were trying to keep him there, to hold onto the pleasure for just a little longer.

Boothill responded with a deep, satisfied groan, his breath hot and heavy against your flushed skin. “That’s it… That’s my good girl,” he praised, pulling back slightly, just enough to look at you, to take in the sight of your completely fucked-out state. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, and he watched as you rode out the last remnants of your high.

Finally, he slipped his fingers from you, causing a soft, shuddering sigh to escape your lips. Your head fell back against the mirror, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat still coursing through your veins. He straightened, rising to his feet, but not before licking his fingers clean with a deliberate, slow swipe of his tongue, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“You liked that, darlin’?” he asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction and a hint of smugness. The question was rhetorical, more of a statement wrapped in a tease than an actual inquiry, but you nodded nonetheless.

And then, as if on cue, you gave him that smile—the one that always drove him mad, the one that held a power over him that nothing else could compare to.

In that perfect, fleeting moment, Boothill knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he really would give anything, do anything, just to see it again.