#and see your own euphoria reflected in their eyes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyhoon · 1 month ago

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THREE WEEKS & THREE DAYS - P.SH

pairing. best friend's ex!sunghoon x reader

genre. best friend's ex au, halloween au, smut, angst (if you squint).

word count. 12.2k+

warnings. alcohol consumption, drug usage, partying, driving under the influence, toxic relationships, themes of divorce, brief mention of physical abuse, smut [car sex, use of handcuffs, oral, praise kink/dirty talk, creampie]

summary. a stressful night at a Halloween party has you seeking comfort from the last person you should be involved with — your best friend's ex.

a/n. HIGHLY HIGHLY inspired by season 2 episode 1 of euphoria! this is a work of pure fiction and is NOT a reflection of how i view the members. despite writing this story, i DO NOT condone the dangerous choices the characters in this fic make and DO NOT encourage others to do so! read at your own discretion. also, very special thanks to @zreamy for beta-reading this for me!!

When you were six, you spent Halloween night lying on a hospital bed dressed as Hannah Montana.

Everything happened so fast; one moment, you were trick-or-treating with your father and younger sister while scarfing down a Snickers bar for the first time (a king-sized one at that), and the next, your dad was rushing you to the hospital in a panic, tears in his eyes as he encouraged you to stay awake in the backseat.

By the time you’d arrived at the hospital, your body had gone completely limp, and your father struggled to carry both you and your younger sister into the hospital lobby. From what you can remember, it was like a scene from a movie: seeing your dad cry for the first time, being wheeled into an unfamiliar bright room on a mobile bed, all while dressed as your favorite popstar.

The scariest part of the night was shortly after arriving at the hospital and catching a glimpse of your reflection, not recognizing the person staring back at you. The blonde wig and blue eye contacts were to be expected, but the swollen face and half-lidded eyes were another. Had you been able to breathe (let alone talk), you likely would’ve given your sister a classic Halloween jumpscare.

Your mother had arrived only a few minutes after you did, yelling at your father loud enough to have the hospital staff threaten to kick her out. “You forgot she was allergic to peanuts?! Where was her fucking EpiPen?!”

Your dad sighed, running a hand across his face, “I forgot to pick it up. I’ve been busy with…you know.”

She scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve been busy too?! Especially now that we have to meet with the divorce lawyer once a week?!”

Your ears perk up at that, “Divorce?”

You hadn’t known much about the true meaning of divorce, except that it’s something your friend’s parents had gone through, and now he gets two of everything. Two birthdays, two Christmases, two lives. So simple yet so perfect, what child wouldn’t dream of that?

Your parents, who hadn’t even known you were awake, silence themselves immediately. Tears quickly form in your mother’s eyes as she realizes they’d been caught, trying their best to keep the news of their divorce as quiet as possible, waiting for the right moment to explain to you and your sister, Yuna, the real meaning of it, and how different your lives would be.

It dawns on them that there’s no point trying to keep this secret any longer. You were a smart kid, it was probably only a matter of time before you found out on your own, anyway.

All in one night, you managed to survive a near-death experience, only to be followed by the news of your parents’ divorce. And somehow, at twenty-three years old, watching Lee Heeseung flirt with random girls at a Halloween party is much worse than everything you experienced that cursed night in 2007.

“Can you at least pretend that you’re having a good time?!” You can barely hear Minjeong over how loud the music is, her words fading in and out as you take a sip from your cup.

“I am having a good time, isn’t it obvious?” you reply, showing Minjeong your best fake smile.

Grinning, Minjeong shakes her head at you. “Not at all. Here, need a refill?”

Without waiting for your response, Minjeong hops off the kitchen counter and snatches the red solo cup in your hand. You don’t bother protesting, sighing as you rest your weight against the marble countertop, while she adds a mix of different ingredients to your cup.

When she’s not looking, you tilt your head in the direction of the living room, hoping to get a glance at Heeseung through the sea of drunken college students.

The only word that can be used to describe your relationship with Heeseung is ‘unfortunate’. You were together for six months, and spent most of the time fighting, making up, and having sex. It was a relentless, tiresome cycle you allowed yourself to succumb to just for the sake of not having to be alone.

Most of the arguments would start with you questioning Heeseung’s loyalty, growing suspicious upon seeing his username pop up in the likes section of random girls on social media. In hindsight, it seems like a silly thing to get upset over. The entire purpose of social media was to connect and interact with others anyway, but, why was it always girls? And why would these girls suddenly start watching your stories?

Breaking up with him was harder than you could’ve imagined, and you’re sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it without Minjeong by your side, encouraging you through the entire process.

The aftermath was embarrassingly excruciating. For two weeks, you locked yourself in your bedroom and fell into a cycle of sleeping and crying, occasionally taking breaks to eat or use the restroom. At one point, your phone spent a full forty-eight hours without being turned on at all, causing your loved ones to panic upon not being able to get ahold of you.

Slowly but surely you managed to build yourself back up, finally starting to feel like your old self when Heeseung suggested the two of you get back together.

You were hesitant, of course, telling Heeseung you were willing to work things out if he can prove to you he’s changed and ready to be the loyal, doting boyfriend he should’ve been from the start.

So no, you’re not together. But you’re also not not together. It’s confusing.

A football player is blocking your view of Heeseung (dressed as a cowboy), you have to stand on your tip-toes to catch a glimpse of him talking to — wait, who is that?

“Patrick would not stand for this.” Minjeong interrupts your thoughts, poking fun at your costume choice of a female Patrick Bateman.

You shrug, pretending to act clueless. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Minjeong rolls her eyes, shoving your cup back into your hand “Sure, you weren’t. Come on, cheers with me.”

“To what?” you ask, suspiciously eyeing the drink she’s just handed you. Minjeong isn’t that great of a cook, so you can imagine she’s not the best bartender either. In fact, it’d be best if she stayed far away from any sort of kitchen appliance.

She thinks for a moment then excitedly extends her cup out to you. “To getting over our shitty ex-boyfriends!”

Minjeong’s ex was Park Sunghoon, they dated on and off for a year and a half before calling it quits over the summer. You don’t remember the exact reason why they broke up, there were many different factors. It didn’t matter, they were bad for each other anyway and the relationship was entirely too toxic for either of their wellbeing.

You don’t know much about Sunghoon aside from the things Minjeong felt comfortable enough to share with you and the fact that he is on the university’s hockey team with Heeseung. You’ve probably had a handful of conversations and interactions with Sunghoon in the entire time of knowing him, and are more than happy with things staying that way.

Holding your cup up high, you match Minjeong’s smile and tap your cup against hers. “To getting over our ex-boyfriends!”

The drink is disgusting. You quickly turn away so you don’t hurt your best friend’s feelings by gagging at the taste. She manages to down her entire cup while you make quick work of pouring a majority of yours down the sink behind you.

Minjeong stares down at her empty cup with wide eyes, licking the remains off her plump lips. “Holy shit, that was so good. Do you want more? I’m gonna make myself another cup.”

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you say, snatching your cup away when she reaches for it. Minjeong raises a brow at you, and you follow up with, “I should wait before having another drink.”

She nods understandingly, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for coming up with that so quickly.

While she’s occupied with making another drink, your eyes trail back over towards Heeseung. The football player from earlier is gone, and now that your view is no longer obstructed, you watch in confusion as Heeseung now has this mystery girl by the waist, leaning his head down close to her lips as she whispers something in his ear.

This really is worse than Halloween 2007.

“Hey.” You tap Minjeong’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She follows your line of sight, scowling when it lands on Heeseung. “YN, don’t make a big deal out of this. You guys technically aren’t even together.”

“Relax, I’m just going to say hi.” You assure her, moving to head towards Heeseung when Minjeong stops you with a hand on your chest. “Think about this, please.”

You sigh, using your free hand to clutch hers and slowly bring it down from your chest. “I’ll be fine. Be back soon so we can dance, okay?”

Minjeong knows she won’t be able to stop you once your mind is made up, all she can do is sigh and wish you the best as you make a beeline for your ex. Maybe not the greatest idea on your part, but you’re too tipsy to think rationally.

Heeseung doesn’t notice you when you first approach, it takes the mystery girl awkwardly gesturing in your direction for him to finally look over at you, immediately dropping his hand from the girl’s waist. “YN!” He shouts, a little too excitedly, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom with Heeseung on step one of your toxic cycle — arguing.

“You’re overreacting,” Heeseung claims. “We were just talking.”

“About what, Heeseung? Why did you have to hold her by the fucking waist to talk to her?”

“Because! She was drunk! I was holding her up so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself!”

“Who gives a shit if she falls? She’s not your fucking girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you.”

His words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do because he’s right; despite trying to work on things, you aren’t his girlfriend. You were the one who said you weren’t ready to get back together, not him. You shouldn’t be upset with him for talking to other girls.

And yet, here you are with tears in your eyes.

You nod silently, avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat.

Heeseung must realize how much his words have affected you if the way he curses at himself, and shamefully runs a hand across his face is anything to go by. “Listen, I’m sor-”

“Don’t bother.” You stand from the bed, holding back a sob.“Everything about this was a mistake. You’ll never change.”

Heeseung reaches a hand out to grab your arm as you push past him. “YN, I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, Heeseung, you did mean it,” you say, pulling the bedroom door open.

There is no point in trying to reason with Heeseung. You know in a matter of time he’ll apologize, you’ll accept it like you always do, have make-up sex, then lecture him about how important it is that he changes before you can consider getting back together. Another endless cycle you’ve fallen into.

Stepping back into the party, you head in the opposite direction of where Minjeong would be, not wanting to run into her in your current state and bump right into someone dressed as Spiderman, causing the little remains of your drink to spill over and knock to the ground. You’re grateful that a crucial part of Patrick Bateman’s costume involved a plastic raincoat, or else your outfit would have suffered a dark blue stain.

“Oh my God, YN! I’m so sorry!” Spider-Man apologizes with a thick Australian accent.

“Jake?” You question, gesturing for him to take the mask off.

He follows your command, face bright red from embarrassment or alcohol. Probably both.

“Yeah, haha, hey. Really sorry about that, I can get you a new drink.” Jake turns in the direction of the kitchen before you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Jake. Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Jake thinks for a moment, scratching at the small amount of stubble that’s graced his chin. He really does make a perfect Spider-Man, and if you weren’t so upset, you probably would’ve stayed and told him that.

“Upstairs, all the way down the hall. Wait! It’s occupied, people are doing coke in there, I think.”

Great.

You sigh. “Do you know if there’s another one I can use?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s one.” Jake turns, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “Right there. I saw a few people come in and out.”

Thanking Jake, you follow his direction and head to the door at the end of the hallway.

It’s a garage, not a bathroom. But, as long as you get a moment alone, you don’t really care where you are.

After shutting the door behind you, you sit on top of a washing machine and flinch at the cold metal sending chills down your thighs.

You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you don’t even care about Halloween to begin with. It’s an overrated holiday, you wish you would’ve convinced Minjeong to stay in with you and have a classic horror movie marathon while eating takeout and pausing to hand out (peanut-free) candy to trick-or-treaters.

Though, you’re sure you still would’ve spent the better half of the night obsessively tapping through Heeseung’s Instagram stories or trying to spot him in the background of someone else’s. It was a lose-lose situation no matter what, and you find yourself wondering if there’s an end to this unhealthy cycle.

Despite being so young when it happened, you’re sure your parents’ divorce obstructed your view of love and how a healthy adult relationship should work. Your father went on to have short-lived relationships with younger women who were using him for his money, while your mother remained single and chose to criticize her ex-husband’s current lifestyle choices. They couldn’t even co-parent in peace, always making petty comments to the other during drop-offs and pick-ups, finding any and every little thing to start arguing about.

One time in particular, after spending the weekend at your father’s house, your mother slapped him in a Dairy Queen parking lot upon realizing his new girlfriend had taken you and your sister to get your ears pierced. You didn’t actually see the slap happen, but it was loud enough to echo through the empty parking lot and hard enough to leave a red mark on his face.

The memory has tears forming in your eyes for the umpteenth time tonight, but before any of them have the chance to trickle down, the garage door swings open.

You turn, and Park Sunghoon (dressed as a police officer) is staring back at you with a confused look on his face. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before pointing in the direction of the party. “Uh, Jake said this was the bathroom.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “No, the bathroom’s upstairs but it’s being used. If you really have to go, I’m pretty sure that door leads to the backyard.” You nod your head in the direction of the other door, and Sunghoon picks up on what you’re implying.

He thanks you before jogging over to the exit, setting his cup down on a metal dog crate before turning the knob and pushing open the door.

Sunghoon stands far enough out of frame that you only see a portion of his backside, and once the sound of him pissing on the grass hits your ears, you wonder why he didn’t bother to close the door in the first place.

Men.

He clears his throat awkwardly, “So, you s–”

You cut him off. “Let’s just wait until you’re done, please.”

Sunghoon nods, mumbling, “Right, right.”

He finishes up a few seconds later, zipping his pants back up and properly adjusting himself before returning to the garage, closing the door behind him and picking his drink back up in the process. “So, I’m guessing you’re…upset because of Heeseung?”

You let out a sad chuckle that sounds more like a sob. “Lucky guess. He’s just so fucking confusing, I can’t take it.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sunghoon responds, slipping his phone from his pants pocket and unlocking it. “Heeseung’s a douchebag.”

This catches you off guard, and you’re laughing before you even realize it. “Isn’t he your friend?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at his phone as he scrolls. “Not really. We don’t talk much if it isn’t related to hockey or school.”

A beat of silence passes, then you ask, “When Heeseung and I were together, did he mention anything about cheating on me? Or talking to other girls?”

Sunghoon glances up at you for a split second, taking in how sad and hopeful you look before returning his gaze to the weather app he’d been using to distract himself.

He wasn’t sure if Heeseung went as far as physically cheating on you, but he was definitely talking to other girls behind your back; proudly showing the hockey team countless nudes and vulgar photos they would send him, some of them coming from your own friends.

Sunghoon can’t tell you this, you’re upset enough as it is.

“I wouldn’t know, I always tuned him out whenever he talked.”

Though he’s not sure what answer you were hoping for, Sunghoon can tell you’re a little disappointed by his response. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like getting involved in anyone else’s drama. If you wanted clarity from Heeseung, you should’ve gone straight to the source.

“Sorry,” you apologize, feeling slightly embarrassed that you probably made things awkward, “have you seen Minjeong?”

Your attempt to change the subject seems to work, because Sunghoon scoffs loudly at your question and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Have I seen the girl that just spent ten minutes yelling at me? Yeah, we may have crossed paths.” He says sarcastically, shaking his head before taking a sip of his drink.

“Yell at you? For what?”

“She fuckin’…I guess before we broke up she said I should dress up as a cop for Halloween and I must’ve said no, and now she’s saying I only dressed up like this,” he gestures towards himself, “to spite her. Fuckin’ insanity.”

“Well, did you?” You can’t help but ask, Minjeong would always go on for hours about how spiteful of a person Sunghoon was.

He shrugs, mindlessly tracing the rim of the red solo cup with his pointer finger, “Maybe, but this is all that was left in my size at the party store.”

You’re surprised Sunghoon makes you laugh as much as he does, and maybe that’s a bad thing since it’s making you enjoy talking to him. Though he technically isn’t your enemy, he’s definitely not a person you should enjoy having a conversation with. It’s not appropriate, he’s the ex boyfriend of your best friend; all your ties to him were cut the moment Minjeong broke up with him.

You should tell him to leave, that you’re really upset over Heeseung and prefer to be alone, but you don’t. Instead, you keep the conversation going, laughing every joke he makes and completely forgetting why you were upset to begin with.

Halfway through telling Sunghoon about the horrid drink Minjeong had prepared for you, your legs grow numb from having been sat on for so long. You untuck them from underneath your body, not thinking much of it as you continue on with the story, legs dangling against the cold washing machine.

Sunghoon takes notice, though, his eyes quickly darting down to the space between your legs and the white fabric that’s suddenly visible to him due to the short length of your skirt. You miss it the first time he does it, but the second and third time are hard to ignore, especially now that he doesn’t seem to mind being caught.

You really should cross your legs or call him out on his staring. Or maybe even get up and leave entirely.

To no one’s surprise you don’t do either of those things and opt to keep your panties visible enough for Sunghoon to see while you continue to talk his ear off about his ex-girlfriend. There’s something unspoken happening between the two of you, and it’s exciting yet confusing since this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him in the two years you’ve known each other.

The strangest part of it all is that you’re just now realizing how attractive Sunghoon is, Sure, he’d always been a good looking guy, but you’d always seen him as Minjeong’s property and never paid much attention to his face out of respect for her.

But Minjeong no longer has a claim on him, and now you really notice the perfectly placed moles that graced the side of his nose and under his eye. He really was a sight to behold, you often find yourself stumbling over your words as you speak to him, becoming flustered over the intensity of the eye contact he’d been making with you.

“…my throat is still burning and it’s been, like, twenty minutes.” You say with a laugh, watching as Sunghoon finishes off his own drink.

He sets the empty cup down, licking the remaining alcohol on his lips before smacking them, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust her in a kitchen. I’m not that good either, though. There was this one time I had to make brownies for our hockey team’s bake sale and they turned out awful. It’s like, half of them were watery and the other half were burnt. So weird.”

“That doesn’t even sound possible.”

“I’m serious! Hold on, I probably have a picture.”

It takes Sunghoon approximately forty-five seconds of scrolling through his Snapchat memories to find a photo of those godforsaken brownies, and sure enough, they really are a watery, burnt mess. Not that you can even focus on the picture to begin with now that he’s sitting next to you on the washing machine, and you’re finally able to see him up close.

Sunghoon’s words go in one ear and out the other, because now you’re close enough to smell the cologne he’s dabbed on the back of his neck, and notice the metal handcuffs hooked in his belt loop, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else. Especially his uninteresting story about those stupid fucking brownies.

When Sunghoon locks his phone, you take it as a sign that he’s finished with his story and let out another laugh, “Not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he jokes, slightly slurring his words.

Maybe it’s the fact that his voice sounds deeper than usual, or that he’s staring right at you with half lidded eyes, or that he's started playing with the handcuffs on his waist, but Sunghoon looks dangerously attractive right now.

You gulp, looking down at your lap, “Well, at least one of us had a nice drink.”

Sunghoon nods, running his fingernails along your plastic raincoat, “Wanna taste mine?” He asks, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second.

If there was ever a time to get up and leave, it should’ve been now. The rational part of your brain is telling you to push Sunghoon away and return to the party and forget this encounter with him ever happened. But you can’t move, and if you’re being honest, you don’t even want to.

You’re stuck in place, heart beating out of your chest as Sunghoon leans in closer to you. You feel dizzy in the best way possible, and a part of you feels sick for enjoying the moment as much as you do.

His breath fans your cheek, and the faint scent of alcohol on it should’ve been enough to remind you that you shouldn’t be in this situation with him. Still, you don’t move.

Right before Sunghoon has the chance to kiss you, the door swings open and you jolt away from each other out of shock, clutching your chest as you watch Jake jog into the garage.

“You guys seen my vape?” he asks, a little out of breath.

“I…no, Jake. Why would it be in the garage?” Sunghoon asks, hopping down from the washing machine. He offers a hand to help you down and you ignore it, finally starting to come back to your senses.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know! It was just in my pocket and now it’s gone, it could be anywhere. Help me look!”

Spending your night in a garage helping Jake look for a strawberry-flavored vape doesn’t sound ideal in the slightest; now is the perfect time to leave.

Heading in the direction of the party, you pause when Sunghoon calls out your name, a slight shakiness to his voice. “Keep an eye out for me, yeah?”

Another beat of silence passes, then you nod and say, “Yeah.”

In your defense, there’s nothing to feel guilty over. All you did was have a conversation with Sunghoon, and keeping an eye out for him doesn’t necessarily mean anything else will happen, right?

You try not to think too much about it as you exit the garage, holding in a laugh when Sunghoon says something along the lines of, “You’re a grown ass man, Jake.”

What Minjeong lacks in cooking, she makes up for in dancing.

While you wouldn’t consider yourself to be on her level of dancing, you’d say you’re good enough to keep up with her at a crowded party. If swaying to the music, holding hands, and grinding on each other counts as dancing, that is.

“You’re too stiff; loosen up, babe,” she comments, fingers interlocked with yours.

“Sorry,” you reply, slightly frustrated since you don’t feel like dancing in the first place. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, yeah!” Minjeong turns to face you, moving your arms to drape them around her shoulders. “Then he said I was being crazy, and that he only got the costume because it was all that was left in his size, as if I believe that.”

“Sorry that happened,” you say, and it comes out more sarcastic than you had intended it to.

Minjeong takes notice of this, raising a brow at you before slipping her arms under your raincoat and pulling you closer to her. “You okay?”

The two of you are pressed so close up against each other that it almost feels romantic, and you’re sure if there was another drink in your system you’d probably lean in and kiss her.

You nod. “Just thinking about Heeseung.”

Fake offended, Minjeong’s jaw drops. “You’re dancing with the hottest girl at this party, and all you can think about is your ex? I’m hurt, YN.”

Truth be told, her ex was the one you were thinking about, certainly not your own.

Not a whole lot of time has passed since you left Sunghoon in the garage, but you make sure to keep your promise of keeping an eye out for him upon returning to the party. You’re certain that on the outside you probably look panicked and frantic, eyes darting all over the place for any sign of Sunghoon.

“Well,” Minjeong starts, tugging on your tie. “Since you’re thinking about your ex, it’s only fair that I think of mine; and there he is.”

You stop yourself from excitedly shouting, “Where?!” and watch as Minjeong subtly nods towards the staircase.

Sure enough, Sunghoon is leaning against the banister, eyes zeroing in on you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“He’s been watching me for, like, ten minutes. Probably wants to see if you and I will make out, fucking pervert,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Minjeong has it wrong, Sunghoon has been watching you for the past ten minutes. Ever since he finished helping Jake find that stupid vape, he’s had his sights set on you and you only.

That other part was probably true, though.

You swallow the lump in your throat and say, “Such a pervert.” It comes out a tad more robotic than you were going for, but you tried your best.

Once Sunghoon is sure that Minjeong is distracted, he mouths, “Bathroom,” before immediately turning around and jogging up the steps.

Fuck, are you really about to do this?

Your eyes dart from Minjeong to the staircase, and you can’t believe you’re even considering going upstairs to meet her ex. Everything about this predicament is sick and twisted and perfectly on brand for Halloween.

But, somehow, it’s not sick enough to stop you.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna get some air; I’m feeling kinda dizzy,” you lie, hoping it’s believable enough.

Minjeong stops dancing immediately, a look of genuine concern on her face. “Here, I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You keep having fun, I’ll be back soon. Make another drink for me, okay? I’m sure I’ll need it,” you assure her with a smile, taking her hands into yours.

“Fine, I’ll be here. But the only drink I’m making for you is a Ginger Ale.”

Thank God.

After giving Minjeong a kiss on the cheek (feeling guilty as ever), you slip past her and head towards the direction of the backyard. Once Minjeong is fully out of sight, you switch paths and sprint up the staircase, bumping into and angering a few people along the way.

You keep your head down once you reach the second floor, speed walking to the end of the hallway and avoiding eye contact with everyone you walk by until you reach the bathroom.

The door is closed and locked, of course, and that’s when it dawns on you that this could be one big, elaborate prank from Sunghoon. You could open the door and be met with a camera in your face with Sunghoon recording, laughing maniacally before mentioning something about telling Minjeong everything and that he stayed loyal to her the entire time.

Unfortunately for you, even that possibility doesn’t scare you away from knocking on the door and saying, “It’s me, YN.”

The knob twists before the door is pushed open, barely enough room to slide in discreetly, but you manage anyway.

Using your body weight to press the door shut, Sunghoon reaches behind you to make sure it’s locked. “You really came.”

You hate that he sounds shocked, as if he had some faith that you wouldn’t risk your friendship with Minjeong for a few minutes with him, of all people. He’s not even your type.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Sunghoon scoffs as if you’ve said the most obvious thing in the world. “Trust me, I won’t.”

You don’t have time to overthink the meaning of his words because before you can even realize it, Sunghoon is pushing you further up against the door, and he’s kissing you, finally kissing you.

This kiss is everything but soft, and it knocks the wind out of you. Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your head sideways to allow himself further into your mouth. It’s wet and sloppy, you’re certain that dancing with Minjeong was far more romantic than this. You kiss back anyway, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair, shivers running down your spine when he groans into your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon reaches down to slip the raincoat off of you, pressing your body closer against him to ease it off.

He pulls away slowly, his blown-out eyes focused on the string of saliva that connects your mouths to one another. “Fuck,” he groans at the sight, moving his mouth to kiss along your jaw.

You let out a moan when you feel his tongue slide against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, tilting your head back against the door. Sunghoon takes notice of this, focusing his attention on that same spot, sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark before teasingly scraping his canines along the area.

Quickly, your fingers move to unbutton your shirt, suddenly feeling warm all over. You’re only halfway done when there’s a sudden banging on the other side of the door, startling you enough to halt your movements.

“Ignore it,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. “They’ll go away.”

They don’t go away, they actually start to bang louder and harder once a few seconds pass.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated sigh, lifting his head away from you, “Occupied!”

“Sunghoon?” You hear Minjeong’s voice on the other side of the door, causing you and Sunghoon both to freeze.

“M-Minjeong?” He stutters.

“I have to piss,” Minjeong whines, messing with the doorknob. “Hurry up!”

Sunghoon must sense your panic and the fact that you feel like bursting into loud sobs, because he places his hand over your mouth before mouthing for you to stay quiet.

Minjeong doesn’t let up on trying to open the door, and you’re sure that with just enough force, she could probably get it open.

“I’m using it! Can’t you just go outside?”

“I’m a fucking girl, Sunghoon. Just hurry up and finish.”

“Just…just hold on a second, Minnie.”

Minnie? Fuck is that about?

Sunghoon pulls you away from the door, keeping his voice and movements as low as possible. “You’re gonna have to hide in the bathtub, just lay down flat and wait for her to leave.”

“What?! What if she sees me?!” You whisper, silently praying Minjeong can’t hear you over the music.

“She won’t, okay? I’ll pull the shower curtain back. It’s the only option we have right now unless you want to jump out the window.”

You shake your head. “There has to be a better idea.”

On the other side of the door, Minjeong begins to grow impatient, anxiously tapping her foot against the floor. She’s had three full drinks and is on the verge of busting the bathroom door down if Sunghoon doesn’t open it soon. She focuses her gaze downward, raising a brow at a piece of plastic that’s been slightly pushed under the crack of the door. What is it? A shower curtain? It can’t be, why would the shower curtain be on the floor? It looks more like…

“Fuck! The cops!” A drunk voice yells before the entire house panics, sirens and flashing blue and red lights fill the house.

Inside the bathroom, Sunghoon had still been trying to convince you to lay down in the bathtub when even more panic sets in.

Minjeong bangs on the door one last time. “Sunghoon, the cops are here, you need to leave! Fuck, I gotta find YN!” She yells before taking off down the hall.

Police officers are raiding the house, and all Minjeong can focus on is finding you and making sure you're okay, while you were seconds away from hooking up with her ex. What a fucking nightmare.

“We gotta jump out the window,” Sunghoon says, hurrying over to the other side of the bathroom and forcing the window open.

“What?! Why?!”

“People are doing fucking illegal drugs at this party, YN, and now the fucking cops are here. My dad works for the city and if-” He pauses to grunt, struggling to get the window all the way open. “-news spreads that his son was at a house party that was full of people doing fucking cocaine his career will be fucking over. Fuck!”

This doesn’t explain why you have to jump out of the window with him, but you narrow it down to the possibility of Sunghoon just wanting to be around you for a little longer. And as pathetic as it sounds, you find yourself smiling at the possibility.

Sunghoon finally gets the window fully open, quickly hiking one leg over. “It’s not that far of a jump, we’ll be fine. I’ll go first then let you know when to jump.”

“You’ll catch me?” you ask, buttoning your shirt back up. Now that the raincoat is gone, you probably resemble a perverted schoolgirl costume.

Sunghoon sighs. “Yes, YN, I am going to catch you. Just be ready to run, my car’s down the street.”

He doesn’t give you any time to protest before hiking his other leg out the window and jumping down; you watch in horror as he lands face down. If it weren’t for your current predicament, you’re sure you would’ve gotten the ick.

It takes Sunghoon a few seconds to get back up, brushing himself off before standing, “Come on! Hurry!”

Despite your hesitancy, you follow Sunghoon’s action and hike a leg out of the window, staring down at him. “Are you sure about this?!”

“If you want me to catch you, you better jump now!”

Halloween fucking sucks.

You swear to yourself as you hike your other leg out of the window, saying a quick prayer as you brace yourself to jump.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly catch you, but he does brace your fall, which is good enough for you.

He groans in pain from the impact as you stand and dust yourself off, reaching a hand down to help him up. “Sorry!”

Sunghoon stands, feeling a tad bit dizzy and lightheaded. “Just follow me.”

It isn’t too late to turn around and find Minjeong and just leave with her. In fact, it’d be the morally correct thing to do in this situation. Not that you seem to care for morals.

You make a mental note to send Minjeong a text later as you run after Sunghoon.

Sunghoon is not that great of a driver, but this doesn't surprise you.

He's still somewhat tipsy, occasionally swerving along the empty back roads.

What makes it worse is that Minjeong has been calling and texting you nonstop, your phone practically burning a hole in your pocket as you ignore her relentless attempts.

Sunghoon is trying his hardest to stay focused on the road, but your phone ringing every few minutes was really starting to irritate him. "Just fucking answer her," he says, shaking his head.

"And say what? That I'm with you?"

Sunghoon isn't too pleased with your sarcasm and rolls his eyes, "Obviously not, YN; just do something to make her stop panicking."

That's way easier said than done, especially considering that you can barely even think about Minjeong without wanting to burst into tears. The guilt has already started to set in, and it has you questioning yourself and your morals.

You can't talk to Minjeong; it's too risky, but you can call your sister and ask her to cover for you.

Slipping your phone from your pocket, you force your eyes to unfocus and ignore the string of missed calls and messages from Minjeong, dialing your sister's phone number with trembling hands.

As always, Yuna answers on the fourth ring, sighing loudly into the phone before greeting you with a monotonous, "Hello?"

"Hey, um, I need you to help me with something," you keep your voice low, not wanting Sunghoon to hear your conversation despite being right next to him.

Yuna sighs again, "With what, YN?"

"The party I was at got raided by the cops, and we all ran, so if Minjeong calls you, I need you to tell her I'm with you," you say, your eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets when Sunghoon makes a sudden sharp turn.

"Sorry," he mutters under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

You hate that even now, you find him cute.

"Well, where are you?" Yuna asks, snapping you back to reality.

"I… it's not important, just please do me this favor."

Your sister scoffs, "You expect me to lie for you, and you can't even tell me the full story?"

"The full story isn't important, Yuna."

"Clearly, it is if you're asking me to lie to your best friend."

"Just tell her," Sunghoon groans, sounding slightly annoyed, "but make sure she doesn't tell anyone else."

Yuna doesn't have many friends, and the few she does have wouldn't even care about your drama, so it's not like she'd have anyone to share your business with. You hesitate anyway because of the principle of the situation, how just ten minutes ago you were unbuttoning your shirt for your best friend's ex. Maybe you're starting to come back to your senses because replaying the scene in your head has you cringing from embarrassment.

You lean your head against the window and squeeze your eyes shut, "I'm with Sunghoon."

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and you're worried you may have lost service from driving in such a rural area until Yuna sighs for a third time, "The pretty ones are never that bright."

"I swear it isn't like that," you plead, "just, please, help me out."

"And what will I get out of this?"

Of course, she wants something, classic younger sibling bullshit.

"Well, what do you want?"

"I don't know…a normal older sister?"

"Yuna, I don't have time for this, will you help me or not?"

Bickering with Yuna was starting to give you a headache; you were seconds away from hanging up and coming up with a new plan entirely.

"After tonight, don't involve me in this anymore; I have my own shit to deal with."

You hold back a laugh at that as if Yuna does anything other than stay home and talk to the same two people. "I won't, I swear. I'll text you when I'm close to being home; let me know if Minjeong reaches out to you."

"Whatever, just get home safe and don't do anything else stupid," Yuna says through a yawn before immediately hanging up, not giving you the chance to say goodbye.

As much as you loved your sister, the two of you weren't exactly close. The divide started sometime during high school; your interests and friend groups never really aligned and only led you to stray further away from each other.

You being fairly well-known within your high school didn't help much, either. Countless random students would approach Yuna on the daily, asking if you were seeing anyone, begging her for your number, or even giving her small gifts and treats to pass along to you.

What annoyed her the most was that they never called her by her name, in their eyes, she was always known as "YN's sister", and nothing more than that.

You're sure Yuna doesn't hate you because of it, but it certainly didn't make her very fond of you.

"What'd she say?" Sunghoon asks, interrupting your thoughts.

"She agreed to cover for me tonight," you respond, gazing out the window, "pretty sure she's pissed, though."

"She'll get over it," Sunghoon taps the navigation system on his dashboard, "type in your address."

Despite making you jump out of a bathroom window, Sunghoon technically doesn't owe you anything. He never claimed he'd bring you back to his place to finish what you started; you quite literally only jumped because he told you to, under the pretense that maybe — just maybe — he'd want to hook up with you.

Clearly, that wasn't happening, at least not tonight. Having to jump out the window and then proceed to drive while tipsy must've knocked some sense into him, making him realize he'd been making way too many questionable choices all in one night.

You let out a disappointed sigh, hesitantly reaching out to type your home address into the car's GPS. The system buffers for a few seconds as it calculates the quickest route to your home before displaying an estimated travel time of thirty-eight minutes.

"Forty fucking minutes?!" Sunghoon shouts, causing you to jump.

He sighs, cursing under his breath before reaching forward and ending the navigation route. You sit up further in the seat, ready to ask Sunghoon what he's plotting before he starts typing "7/11".

You raise a brow at this, "Why're we going there?"

Sunghoon gestures towards the navigation system as if the answer is obvious, "Your house is forty minutes away, and I'm still kinda tipsy; I'm gonna need to pull over and get something other than alcohol in my system if I'm gonna be driving for that long." There's a slight slur to his words that had you weary about him driving, so pulling over to recharge isn't a bad idea.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Sunghoon managed to safely drive the two of you to the nearest 7/11, opting to pay seventeen dollars to park in a parking garage down the street instead of the shop's personal lot.

"This neighborhood isn't that safe; I don't want anyone breaking into my car," he claims, taking up two spots as he parks in the most secluded corner possible.

The neighborhood is fairly safe; he was just being dramatic.

The walk down the street is quick and slightly awkward, with you and Sunghoon stumbling every few steps yet refusing to hold onto the other for stability.

The two of you go your separate ways upon entering the shop, Sunghoon headed straight towards the snack aisle while you make your way to the slurpee machines. The difference in your priorities was humorous, with him wanting to focus on building up energy and you wanting nothing more than a quick sugar fix.

Blue raspberry isn't necessarily your go-to flavor, but it's the only flavor on the Slurpee machine that's currently working, so you fill your plastic cup to the brim before absentmindedly reaching for a straw.

Sunghoon is still prancing around the store by the time you've finished making your drink, and despite not being that hungry, you decide to kill time by strolling through the snack aisles.

The Snickers bars and Reese's Cups look tempting as always, but you refrain, sighing as you look over the selection of peanut-contaminated candy.

"Don't even bother," Sunghoon says from behind you, causing you to gasp in shock.

He pauses for a moment, staring at the array of snacks before grabbing a pack of Skittles and walking off.

The thought of Sunghoon being aware of your peanut allergy is as comforting as it is strange. You can't imagine this is something Minjeong randomly decided to tell him, and even if that is the case, why would he bother retaining that information? It's not like the two of you are friends.

Whatever, you're probably thinking about it too much.

After deciding on a package of powdered mini donuts and Haribo gummy bears, you proceed to the checkout counter and set your items down, looking over your shoulder at Sunghoon, who was selecting the last of his items.

The man behind the counter smiles at you, typing his employee ID number into the cash register, "How's your night going?"

"Horrible," you say, making the clerk laugh even though you weren't joking.

"Sorry to hear that," he responds, scanning your items, "your total came out to…$6.12. Oh, hello, officer."

Despite not having done anything wrong, you nearly panic before remembering Sunghoon's unfortunate costume choice.

He nods at the man, setting his own items down on the counter, "Add these too. You guys take Apple Pay?" He asks, unlocking his phone.

"Oh, you don't have to pay for mine," you say, a nervous tremble in your voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, "No big deal."

Except it is a big deal. Sunghoon behaving like a boyfriend gentleman by paying for your items only made you like him even more, which is the exact opposite of what you need right now.

You sigh, taking a literal and metaphorical step back as Sunghoon taps his phone on the card reader.

"A cop and a schoolgirl, huh? These couple's costumes are starting to make less and less sense," the employee comments, eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.

"We're not a couple," Sunghoon responds, a little too quickly for your liking, but whatever.

The employee apologizes, embarrassed about his implications as he bags your items and wishes the two of you a safe trip home.

On the way back to Sunghoon's car, it dawns on you that Minjeong has stopped trying to get ahold of you, which is slightly worrisome considering that she's a person who wouldn't give up that easily.

Sunghoon climbs into the backseat this time, mumbling something about needing to rest and stretch out before driving you home. He sets the bag down on the center console, grabbing a few of his items before propping himself up against the door.

You do the same, retrieving your own items from the bag before slumping into your seat.

When you finally unlock your phone, a new voice memo from Yuna is waiting for you. Hesitantly, you hold your phone against your ear and hit play.

Yuna lets out a loud sigh, "So, you and Minjeong must have some sort of, like, telepathic connection because she called me as soon as I hung up on you. Anyways, I told her our cousin was also at the party and was able to, uh, give you a ride home once the cops came. Oh, and I told her your phone died and that you'd call her, um, later or in the morning. I'm not sure if she believed it, but she calmed down.

And, by the way, I meant it when I said I don't want to be involved in whatever this is after tonight. So, for everyone's sake, if something serious is going on, do not tell me about it. Get home safe."

You're not entirely sure if you deserve a sister like Yuna, who'd go against her own morals just to cover for you, but you're grateful you have her.

you [11:54 pm] : *you liked a voice memo*

you [11:54 pm] : thanks so much

you [11:55 pm] : i promise i wont involve u anymore. if minnie calls again u can just ignore it and lmk please

yuna [11:56 pm] : oh and she told me to let you know that she's safe. tho im sure that's not your biggest concern :/

Harsh but true.

You set your phone on your lap and tear open your pack of donuts, wiping away the powdered sugar that falls onto your blouse. Much like the blue raspberry slurpee, mini powdered donuts weren't exactly your go-to snack, but your options were limited, and you weren't in the mood to roam around the store any longer.

Suddenly, Sunghoon groans from the backseat and sits up, "Phone died."

Leaning over the center console, he plugs his phone into the car charger right underneath his navigation system, resting it on the dashboard before returning to his seat.

The car falls silent, and as much as you want to start a conversation, you're not sure where to begin. There's so much you want to ask, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue so hard you're surprised the taste of blood doesn't fill your mouth.

Sunghoon leans forward again, this time resting his cheek on the side of your seat, "What'd you get?" he asks, staring down at your lap.

You turn your head to look at him, holding up the half-eaten pack of donuts for him to see.

"Can I have one?" he asks, already holding his hand out before you could even say yes.

You hand him one regardless, watching the powder fall from the pastry as he pops it into his mouth.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you find yourself narrowing your eyes at him as you ask, "Sunghoon, can I ask you something?"

He nods, gesturing towards the remaining donuts in a way that tells you he wants more. You hand him the remaining three, nodding back when he mumbles "Thanks" under his breath.

"How did you know that I'm allergic to peanuts?"

Sunghoon pauses, brows furrowing in utter confusion as he looks up at you, "What do you mean?"

"Earlier in the store, I was looking at the peanut candy, and you told me not to bother. I'm assuming you must've known I'm allergic, right?" You ask, fully turning around in your seat to face him.

"Um…yeah. I know."

"Okay…how?"

"I mean, was it supposed to be a secret or something?"

"What? No, of course not. Allergies are probably the one thing that shouldn't be kept secret," you respond, "I'm just curious about how you know. I don't think I've ever told you, and I can't imagine Minjeong randomly deciding to tell you."

Sunghoon awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as he avoids looking at you. It takes the tips of his ears turning pink for you to realize that he's embarrassed, which only confuses you even further.

Sunghoon shrugs, staring down at the snack you've just given him, "Whenever all of us would hang out, and there was, like, food involved, I just noticed you'd pay so much attention to the ingredients of whatever it was you were eating. At first, I thought it was a calorie thing, but you never really asked about the calories, only the ingredients."

"But, how'd you know it was peanuts specifically?" you ask, feeling embarrassed about how curious you were over something as silly as a peanut allergy.

"Remember the hockey team bake sale? The one I made those terrible brownies for?" He asks, continuing when you nod, "You were there, and I remember how excited you were to try the cookies that Jake made, but right before you bought one, you asked him if there were peanuts in them. That's when I knew."

You can't remember the last time someone had paid this much attention to you, and it's dangerous, considering how easily impressed you are by the smallest things. Sunghoon was by no means a friend of yours; you hardly knew anything about each other and often kept your interactions rather short, so his being able to pick up on your peanut allergy just by watching you was … different. Maybe even nice.

You don't even realize you've been staring at him until he stops chewing and stares back, unblinking.

You look away, retrieving your Slurpee from the cup holder and taking a long sip as Sunghoon watches.

"Can I ask you something now?" he asks.

You don't respond, side-eyeing him as you continue to sip your drink.

Sunghoon smirks, amused by your sudden silence, "Why'd you meet me in the bathroom?"

You pull the straw away from your lips, voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "To see what you wanted."

He nods, taking the cup from your hands, "You knew what I wanted," he says, pausing to take a sip of your drink, "and you still came; why?"

When you don't respond, Sunghoon lets out a loud sigh and sets your cup back down in its holder, "It's okay, YN."

"It isn't."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess we'll never know, huh?"

This is a test of your morals, and Sunghoon knows this. Every decision you've made tonight has led you to this exact moment. There's still enough time to redeem yourself and make an excuse for your actions. You could easily lie and say that making out with Sunghoon was just a result of being tipsy and vulnerable. But now, with the two of you in his car, sobering up and coming back down to your senses, you won't be able to use those same excuses.

Realistically speaking, what are the chances of your ex's finding out? Heeseung probably wouldn't care, but Minjeong was an entirely different story.

In your defense, they've been officially broken up for three weeks and three days, so you wouldn't technically be hooking up with her boyfriend. Right?

Sunghoon must've sensed the gears turning in your head because, after a few seconds of staring at each other in silence, he leaned over the center console and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss is softer this time, nothing like how it was in the bathroom as if he's trying to coax you in and convince you it's okay, that you're doing nothing wrong.

You find yourself slipping under his spell, eyes finally fluttering shut as he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. The faint taste of alcohol is still on his tongue, but he does taste much sweeter now, like the blue raspberry slurpee he'd just had. A part of you wonders if he'd done that on purpose as if tasting better would make you enjoy kissing him like this.

He pulls away, scooting farther back into his seat, "C'mere, climb over."

You do as you're told, slipping off your shoes with Sunghoon guiding you right onto his lap as you climb into the backseat. You can't help but squirm on his lap, and he can still sense a slight hesitancy in your actions, the way you shiver when he touches you, how you initially pulled back when he tried to kiss you again.

"You're nervous," he comments, eye flickering across your face.

You shrug, holding onto his shoulders for support, "I can't help it."

Beneath you, Sunghoon reaches down to unclip the handcuffs from his belt loop, "You're making it hard to focus."

"The fuck am I supposed to do, then?!" You didn't mean to shout, but your patience was starting to run thin. You felt guilty enough as it is, and Sunghoon reminding you of how nervous you are certainly didn't make it any better.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, undoing the handcuffs before grabbing your left hand. He tightens the cuff around your wrist, "Just trust me," he says simply. He sits up further in his seat, grabbing your cuffed wrist as he pulls down on the car's grab handle. He slips the empty cuff through the slot before gesturing for you to give him your free hand.

Fuck.

"Sunghoon…"

"Just trust me," he doesn't wait for a response, grabbing your wrist and bringing it up towards the empty cuff. It locks around your wrist with a click, causing him to smile in satisfaction.

You're sure that with just the right amount of force, you could easily snap the handcuffs in half, but it's the thought that counts. With your arms and hands restricted towards the ceiling, all you can do is stare down at Sunghooon and await his next movement, his very calculated movement.

He presses his cold lips against your neck, simultaneously using his hands to slowly unbutton your blouse. The mark he'd left on your neck earlier was as prominent as ever, and it pleased him to know you were okay with him marking you up like this. He swipes his tongue against the sensitive spot, hardening in his pants when you squirm on top of him.

His nails trace along the bare skin of your waist once he's finished unbuttoning your blouse, your bralette — that was a few sizes too small — fully on display for him. He's practically salivating at the site, his tongue sliding across his canines, completely in awe of your breasts spilling out of the flimsy, white material.

Sunghoon can't unclasp and slide off your bra, or else it'd be awkwardly hanging in the air, and trying to slip it through the handcuffs would take too much effort. Instead, he apologizes under his breath before his hands reach the front of your bra.

"Wait, Sunghoon—!"

Without warning, he stretches the fabric until it finally rips, seemingly pleased with himself if the cocky smirk is anything to go by. "Relax," he says, "I'll buy you a new one."

You don't have time to scold him because before you can even process what's happening, Sunghoon's tongue is swirling around your nipple. You swear at the sudden contact, arching your back and pressing your chest further into his face. It's almost embarrassing how such a simple act already had your head spinning.

His hands trail downward until they reach the hem of your skirt, slowly pushing it upwards until it's bunched around your waist. He traces the tip of his finger across your clothes cunt, pleased with how wet you've already gotten without having done much.

Your hips buck up into his hands on instinct, desperate for the friction, borderline craving it.

Sunghoon releases your perked bud in his mouth, looking up at you as he asks, "You want me to stop?"

"No, please don't." You beg.

"So this is okay then, right?"

If your wrists weren't handcuffed to the grab handle, you're sure you would've reached down and choked him for all the teasing. "Yes, Sunghoon, it's okay! Just hurry up and do something!"

Sunghoon shakes his head at you, mumbling, "So impatient." as he moves to lie flat on his back.

You stare down at him, confused, when he doesn't immediately start undoing his pants but instead positions his head right between your thighs.

It's funny, Minjeong claimed Sunghoon wasn't really into giving head and only gave it to her a handful of times during the course of their relationship, claiming he preferred to save it for special occasions.

But yet, here he is, willingly pushing your thighs further apart before pressing his lips against your clothed cunt.

The action sends shivers down your spine, and the handcuffs around your wrist suddenly feel tighter. He presses his tongue flat against you, groaning at the taste of your slick that's soaked through your panties. You grind down on him instinctively, your body trembling with anticipation as you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Fuck." You whisper, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration.

The sound of the metal clinking makes Sunghoon chuckle, pressing a final kiss against your damped underwear before mumbling, "Cute."

He makes quick work of sliding your underwear off your legs, tossing them to the

front seat with a grunt as you wait for him to continue. Sunghoon settles himself between your thighs again, groaning in annoyance as you hover over him. "Stop fucking hovering," he demands, attempting to pull you down directly onto his face, "it's fine."

It's too intimate; you've never even sat on Heeseung's face before, and you're sure this isn't something he's done with Minjeong.

"But, I don't wanna cru- fuck!"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries, forcing you down onto his face and instantly wrapping his lips around your clit. You barely have any time to process that this is completely new territory for you, being this intimate with a man, sitting right on his face while he drags his tongue along your cunt; gathering your wetness and dragging it up towards your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at that, leaning your head against the cold window as your face heats up. This only encourages Sunghoon even further, and his confidence grows, feeling bold enough to tease the tip of his tongue into your hole.

You jolt up at this, biting back a moan and wishing you could reach down and grab a fistful of his hair and properly ride his face. He licks another stripe up your folds, gripping your thighs and holding your body in place when you try to squirm away.

"Stop trying to run from me," he groans into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver across your body.

He presses his face further into your cunt, moaning at how much wetter you've gotten since he's started. For a man who apparently wasn't one to eat a girl out, he sure did seem desperate and eager to have you come on his face. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was doing it for his own pleasure rather than yours, which only turns you on even more.

After a few more slides of his tongue, you finally feel your orgasm approaching, your thighs tensing around Sunghoon's head.

"I know you're close," he whispers, placing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, "go ahead, use me. I know you want to."

He's practically begging at this point, big, wet eyes staring up at you in pure adoration as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. That's your breaking point, the knot in your stomach finally untying itself as your orgasm washes over you.

You let out a moan so loud that your throat hurts shortly afterward, your wrists going limp in the handcuffs as you ride out your high.

Sunghoon doesn't let up until you're practically shaking from overstimulation, your body naturally twitching and squirming away from his greedy mouth as he cleans you up. He pulls away finally, his mouth and chin completely coated with your slick as he leaves a trail of kisses on your bare thighs.

You can't help but stare down at him in awe; he looks completely dazed as if he's running off, nothing but pure desperation and lust for you. You.

"Sunghoon," you say, trying to get his attention, "I…do you keep condoms in here?"

He flutters his eyes open, shaking his head, "No, but 7/11's just down the street. I can go-"

You interrupt him with a shake of your head, "I don't wanna wait; we don't need one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill. Just, please, fuck me already."

It's music to his ears, really.

Sunghoon slides himself back up the seat, reaching up to release you from the handcuffs. You groan at this, having gotten used to them and quite frankly enjoyed the temporary feeling of restriction.

"You liked the cuffs?" Sunghoon questions, dropping your wrists from the grab bar.

"Yeah," you admit, "I liked it more than I thought I would."

He nods at this, and you realize now that one of the cuffs is still clasped around your wrist. Sunghoon also notices this and smirks as an idea forms in his head. "Turn around."

You comply with no further questions, groaning when he suddenly pushes your body down into the seat. He brings your arms behind your back, handcuffing you once more as he lets out a sigh of pleasure. "I knew you'd like it."

Sunghoon pushes your skirt back up, straddling himself around your things after pulling his pants and boxers far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, using the other to teasingly drag his fully-hardened cock across your slick folds.

Sunghoon shivers at this, cursing at the sight as he repeats his movements. He knows he won't last much longer; he was practically seconds away from coming in his boxers just from eating you out, so he really should quit with the teasing for his own sake.

Minjeong had never allowed him to fuck her without a condom, so this type of intimacy was new and overwhelmingly good.

He finally pushes himself into you, his tip alone causing you to bite down on the leather of his seat. You already felt so full, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

"Ah fuck," he groans, "you're so tight, you're so…fuck." He can barely even form a sentence, biting down on his bottom lip as he further inches himself inside of you.

You're not doing any better, feeling as if you're already seconds away from your second orgasm when he's hardly even done anything. It takes a minute before he's fully inside of you, pausing before he leans down and asks, "Can I move?"

"Please, I need you to."

Sunghoon nods at this, pressing a kiss against your ear before sitting himself back up. He angles your hips off the seat but presses your chest further into it, giving you (and himself) the perfect arch to comfortably slide in and out.

The first few thrusts are slow, as expected, but just enough to get you used to his size. Even this was all too much for Sunghoon; he was already dangerously close to his orgasm.

He didn't intend on speeding up his thrusts already, but he really can't help it. Everything about this feels too good. The way your walls perfectly wrap around him, and the way you're moaning and cursing for him to keep going are overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck." He moans, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses you down further into the backseat. He pulls his cock all the way out before pushing himself back in, which you seem to enjoy. He does it a few more times, mostly to humor himself since it's something he assumed you would've been annoyed by.

"Sunghoon," you pant, "I'm close."

"Already?" He asks, pushing your hips downwards until you're lying flat on your stomach.

He tries to come off as cocky and frustrated, but he really is grateful you're already so close to your orgasm, seeing that he felt like he could burst at any given second.

You nod, "Please, keep going."

He doesn't respond, opting to remain silent as you pull his cock out of you before ramming it back in at a pace much harder and faster than before. His thrusts are sloppy and borderline desperate, the sound of skin slapping and grunts filling the air shortly afterward.

The two of you could hardly keep your eyes open, too lost in the pleasure of your approaching orgasms.

Your's hits first, and Sunghoon's follows shortly after, practically filling you up to the brim with his cum. You've never felt so full and warm, heat spreading through your entire body as you slowly calm down and regulate hour breathing.

Sunghoon doesn't feel like moving, but he does anyway, slipping himself out of you with a wince, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the seat of the car. He curses at the sight, stopping himself from leaning forward and eating it out of you.

He undoes both of the handcuffs this time, helping you sit up as you avoid eye contact with each other. "Hold on," he says, re-adjusting his pants and boxers, "I should have a towel or something in the trunk."

Sunghoon steps out of the car, returning a minute later with a towel in hand. He leans down, prepared to clean you up, until you stop him, "It's okay, I got it."

He shakes his head, "I can do it for you."

"It's fine," you say, buttoning up your shirt, "I'd prefer to do it myself, actually."

Sunghoon finally gives in, handing you the towel before leaning over the center console and retrieving your panties from the passenger seat. He waits patiently for you to finish up, instructing you to just drop the towel on the floor as he hands you your underwear.

"Hey, have you…do you think you've sobered up yet?" He asks, watching as you slip your panties back on.

"Yeah, why?"

"Before I met you in the bathroom, I took a few bites of an edible, and I think it's starting to kick in. I think you should drive."

You sigh, mostly because this was not at all what you'd been hoping he'd say. "Drive where? To your place? Then where would I go?"

"I can pay for your Uber home."

"Sunghoon, it's past midnight, and I'm a girl; taking an Uber this late is too dangerous."

"Then drive back to your place; I'll sleep in the car and drive off in the morning."

You groan, "No, Minjeong might visit me in the morning. What'll she think when she sees your car in my driveway?"

"Dammit, YN, then just spend the night at my place. You can take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch; just please drive us somewhere, for fuck's sake."

Bickering with Sunghoon somehow doesn't annoy you; in fact, it feels almost domestic. Going back and forth like a real couple.

"Fine." You say, climbing into the driver's seat.

Sunghoon's phone falls off the dashboard in the process, now charged at twenty-eight percent, and apparently, a missed text from Minjeong that was sent a few minutes ago.

The jealousy that fills your chest is downright abnormal; Minjeong is your best friend; there's no real reason for you to feel jealous of her in the first place.

In fact, you shouldn't feel any sort of guilt at all; it's not like they're still together. They've been broken up for three weeks and three days.

Three weeks. And Three days.

#enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagine #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #sleepyhoon

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vanteguccir · 8 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Chris have been keeping their relationship a secret for just over a year until one day where Y/N feels ready to announce it; OR, where Y/N and Chris soft launch their relationship.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was a typical Thursday morning, with the sun shining strongly against the outside walls of the house, keeping it warm. Inside the comfort of the room, Y/N and Chris were lying on their bed, wrapped in each other's arms after waking up. The rays of warm LED lights danced softly over their skin as they exchanged caresses, each touch filling the room with tenderness.

Chris, with his messy hair and a lazy smile on his lips, watched Y/N with adoration. His eyes conveyed a mix of love and gratitude for having her there.

Meanwhile, Y/N was in deep thought. Her eyes were fixed on the white ceiling as her mind studied the complexities of keeping their relationship a secret. As she stroked Chris's hair and felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, her mind was in a whirl, revisiting the moments when they agreed to keep things a secret.

She considered the reasons that led them to this decision. The pressure of the triplets' fandom, the intense attention from social media, the invasion of privacy that comes with public exposure - it all weighed on her mind. The girl vaguely remembered the heartfelt conversations they had, the mutual concerns about how fans would react to their relationship. It was a delicate dance between the desire to share her happiness with the world and the need to protect her own privacy.

However, despite all the rational arguments that accumulated in her mind, there was an undeniable desire that consumed her. She wanted to be able to shout to the world that Chris was hers, without restrictions. She wanted to be able to walk hand in hand with him down the street without worrying about some fan seeing them and commenting on Twitter about it. She wanted to be able to appear in the triplets' videos as Chris's girlfriend, not as just a friend.

While reflecting on the pros and cons, Y/N noticed that, despite all her fears, her love for Chris transcended all worries. Despite the challenges they would face, their connection was stronger than any of it. She knew it was time to put aside her fear, despite not knowing how to deal with his fans or fame, she wanted to be able to look Chris in the eye and say with pride that he was hers, in every sense of the word.

So, between the light pecks of Chris's lips on her skin and the caresses of his fingers on her hip, Y/N felt her heart speed up, and she decided it was time to take a step forward.

"Chris..." She began, her voice soft and somewhat hesitant.

Chris's eyes met hers, a mixture of curiosity and concern reflected in her gaze.

"What is it, babe? You look serious." The boy frowned, sitting up slightly and keeping his upper body supported on the bed by his left elbow.

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering all the courage she had within herself.

"I... I think I'm ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Chris asked, confused.

"Ready to no longer hide our relationship." Y/N declared, her voice firm and determined. She turned her body sideways, still lying down, but now facing him.

Chris was momentarily stunned, processing her words. Then, a radiant smile spread across his face, his eyes shining beautifully.

"You mean... You mean you're ready to make our relationship public?" His voice came out high-pitched, a sign of euphoria.

"Yes, Chris. I'm ready. I want this, I want to be able to say I'm yours. No restrictions." Y/N nodded, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"But, are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with." The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line, his heart racing in anticipation.

"I've never been so sure before, pretty boy." Y/N nodded again, a smirk decorating her face, feeling light as a feather.

Chris sat straight on the mattress abruptly, pulling her up with ease, ignoring the small scream of surprise that escaped her lips. He sat her on his crossed legs, spreading several kisses over her cheeks, nose, and forehead repeatedly, eliciting loud laughter from the girl, her heart overflowing with happiness.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The sun was setting over the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink as the triplets were in their usual seats in the car, recording the video that would be posted on the following Friday.

"Her beauty is crazy, I watch her from the crowd." Chris sang suddenly, a small smile on his lips, looking at Matt sideways.

"I wrote a couple of things down that were in my brain..." Nick began, ignoring Chris's sudden singing. "I love citrus. Anytime I can get my hands on a citrusy fruit, I want it. The juice, the flavor... it's delicious." He continued, a smile on his face as his eyes went from Chris to Matt and back again.

Nick's random remark caused Chris to jump excitedly in the passenger seat. His eyes lit up, and a smile grew on his face.

"Citrus drinks?" He asked, turning his upper body to the side so that he was closer to the oldest triplet.

"Yeah, I love it! Orange juice, lemonade, anything with a hint of citrus." Nick responded, pulling out his phone to look at his notes for the video, not noticing the change in Chris' behavior.

Chris felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest as his mind raced to a single person: Y/N. She also loved citrus drinks. It was one of her most striking characteristics.

"This is awesome!" Chris exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. "Y/N also loves citrus drinks, you know? She's obsessed with orange juice and lemonade! Also, I always get her lemonade when she participates in one of our videos, remember?"

As he ramble, Chris felt his face heat up, a red color spreading across his cheeks and neck. It was difficult to control the shyness when talking about Y/N, even if it was just mentioning her preference for drinks.

Matt and Nick exchanged amused glances in the rearview mirror, immediately noticing Chris's change in mood.

"Wow, she really likes citrus, huh?" Matt commented, with a playful tone, raising his right eyebrow.

"Uhm." Chris nodded, his involuntary smile growing even wider on his face, quickly pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to stop himself from continuing his barrage of comments he could spend hours making about Y/N.

Nick planned to delete the short minutes while editing, but he ended up forgetting it, creating an intense mess in the comments.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"wait, did yall see how Chris blushed while talking about Y/N? 🥺"

"omg Chris talking about Y/N was the cutest thing I saw today 😭"

"Chris and Y/N? how long did I sleep?"

"omg omg omg are they together?"

"date someone who talks about you like Chris talks about Y/N 😫"

"Chris getting super excited JUST TO SAY THAT Y/N LIKES CITRUS DRINKS 😭😭"

"I really hope Chris and Y/N are together, they would be super cute together 🥺"

"there's something going on that we don't know about 🤨🤨"

"spill the tea guys 😔✋🏻"

"I think this part wasn't supposed to stay in the video LMAO"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

liked by sturniolo.triplets, yninstagram and 408,823 others

christophersturniolo oops, forgot to mention it 😬🤍

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taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner

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hellishjoel · 5 months ago

Text

a visu videre (a sight to see)

4k / pairing: general marcus acacius x lucilla acacius x f!personal attendant

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Before Marcus leaves to lead his army to a distant province, he teaches you how to please his wife, Lucilla, while he’s away - and sees what you’ve learned upon his return.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), porn without plot, threesome (fmf), swearing, size kink, free use, spanking, rough sex, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, pet names (marcus uses sweet girl, lucilla uses darling girl), oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstim (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, spitting in the mouth is romantic, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected p in v, reader is described having hair and wears a stola, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n

A/N: I'm very thankful to @pedgito and her writing of Marcus in little dove! I'm usually a bit hesitant to write new characters whose lore I know literally nothing about, but we all saw those vanity fair exclusives, how could I not! thank you Ali for the encouragement and honoring "fuck it we ball" - graphics made by @saradika-graphics!

You have never lived as a free woman, not until beginning your servitude to General Marcus Acacius and his wife, Lucilla.

Averse to owning slaves, they filled their home with paid servants. From domestics to weapons and armorers, the high-profile family required additional hands.

Their home in the city, a magnificent testament to the General’s success and high status, was a reflection of the family’s opulent wealth and esteemed social standing. Their domus in the city of Rome was a sight to behold, and as a personal attendant, you were entrusted with knowing every nook and cranny.

From the preference of their foods to their nightly desires, it was your duty to fulfill.

After serving their every need, you could not help but fall in love with the pair who had gifted you a life of freedom and happiness.

The attraction was immediate despite it feeling forbidden. It was gentle gestures at first.

After serving a meal to the General in his study, his rough hand felt over the material of your stola, a simple dress in his family’s colors - gold to symbolize his wealth and power, lined with purple to show the high status of his military success.

“Beautiful,” he muttered in his stolen raspy voice, his eyes gleaming as he took in your figure the belt around your waist provided.

You felt the warmth of his hand further into the night, allowing you to sit upon his desk as his fingers and mouth worked you to a flourishing orgasm. His fingers were thick, leaving a painful turned pleasure-inducing ache that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Your cunt is perfect,” he hummed out as he aided you onto his lap in the afterglow, allowing you to curl into his broad chest and strong shoulders.

The guilt sat deep in your stomach, using you for his pleasure while his wife was just down the hall.

“Dominus, what of your wife? Will she not be upset?”

Marcus ran his fingers across the sweet skin of your cheek, staring into your innocent eyes. “You will keep my wife company while I lead our army to a distant province. I trust you to pleasure her as I have taught you.”

You didn’t believe him, not until you were helping Lady Lucilla undress after a long day. She was missing her husband. The long days without him were torturous. Her eyes began to lust over as you bathed her, running a natural sponge and Egyptian cucumber along her skin.

“Your hands, they are so soft,” she praised, gently clasping her hand in yours.

Your smile was shy, and your lips slowly parted as she dragged your hand below the bath water, feeling over her bosoms. “Thank you, Matrona,” you whispered breathlessly as she squeezed your hand around her breasts, watching in awe as the simple gesture caused her eyes to fall closed in euphoria.

You cannot deny you haven’t thought of her beauty. The General and his wife are both undeniably attractive, allure dancing over their skin like little stars.

After her invitation to join her in the bath, you used what the General taught you with his fingers. It was a little clumsy at first, but she was patient and guided you to where she needed you to be. You gasped as you felt her cunt spasm around your fingers as her body slipped deeper into yours, her head falling onto your shoulder as she gave sweet kisses to your pulse point.

She insisted she return you the favor the very next night. You laid in their silky sheets and melted in her hold under the candlelight.

They were perfect opposites; Marcus was strong and rough, whereas Lucilla was gentle and tender.

You were a guest in her chamber nearly every night the General was gone and stayed until the early morning light. Lucilla would spoon your body against hers, your interlocked fingers resting over your naked body.

Soon, there was no guilt, only mutual pining. Love swarmed all three of you into a buzz, despite the General away on duty.

He sends letters to you both, dirty promises he intended to keep upon his return. You made love together in Marcus’ name, while Lucilla affirmed that you had a place in their relationship and nothing would change.

You both ached in wait for him, an ache that was only soothed by your nights together. And if you were truthful, you liked being used by them. Filling the void of the other on long, lonely nights.

Day and night, you were hers to use as she pleased.

One night as you cooked her dinner, Lucilla entered the culina and pushed your stola over the curve of your ass. She kneeled and made out with your cunt as you shook in her hold, still attempting to finish her soup.

“M-My Lady, here?” You squeaked, feeling her palms knead into your ass, feeling the sting of her nails as she took what she needed from you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of your taste,” she whispered before continuing.

Marcus' arrival was due any day now, only amping up your and Lucilla’s wild imaginations.

“He’ll be ravenous,” she whispers, fingers intertwined in your hair as you explicitly slurp up her arousal. “Lords,” she gasps, jaw dropping as her head shoots up to watch you eat her pussy in their bed, “please, do that again,” she begs.

You mimic the small ministration again, curling your fingers deep inside her cunt, feeling her walls pulse with need.

“My Lady, he will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Or you.” She cooes, moaning out your name with little regard to volume.

The amount of times you’ve prayed to feel Marcus in the intimate ways that Lucilla has is unimaginable. You’ve never felt the feeling of his cock, but Lucilla has described it to you in a way of preparation.

“We’ll make sure you’re amply wet. It will hurt, but only for a moment, my darling girl.”

You moan against her cunt, feeling your arousal begin to soak the sheets.

Heavy boots thud down the hallway, but the both of you are too lost in the pleasure of one another to notice - not even when the door opens.

“A sight to see.”

It’s the return of Marcus, both of you gasping - Lucilla’s of excitement and yours of feeling caught.

Despite Marcus assuring your match, you were still nervous to see him. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to return tonight with your tongue on his wife’s pussy.

“Meus amor,” Lucilla moaned to Marcus, stroking your hair as you both sat up. Marcus was still in his armor, a brilliant metal chest plate with Medusa coursing through the front with long hair of slithering snakes sprialing out across the extent of it.

Lucilla moves to his side, bare naked, her body curving around his own as she holds him in her arms.

“Lords, have we missed you,” she praises as Marcus’ hand fell low to cup her ass in his large palm.

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, kissing her slowly.

They both turn to you, and you feel the burning sensation that you should leave and allow them to resume their love in peace. Instead, Marcus opens his other arm to you.

“Let me see you, pretty girl. Come here,” he commands. You fill into the space of his side, all three of you hugging as his hands take claim of both Lucilla and your ass.

“You’ve taken care of her like I asked?” You’re shocked to see his question is to Lucilla who proudly smiles.

“She’s been nothing but an angel. She should be nice and ready for you, my love.” Lucilla whispers as she leans up and slowly kisses her husband. Your eyes soften as you watch, laying your head against his shoulder, your warm cheek against his cold armor. It’s a nice contrast compared to the warmth in the room.

Marcus hums as he deepens the kiss with his wife, watching his tongue slip into her mouth as his fingers slip between her ass and move downward to the slick of her pussy.

A moment passes and he breaks the kiss, turning to you now and leaning in.

You’ve never shared a kiss with him, but it’s like you imagined. He’s rougher than Lucilla, needier. Away at war and away from his lovers, his lust for you both pumps through his veins. The course hair of his mustache gristles against your lip, his arm locking you tighter against his hold as you allow him to lead.

Lords, how can you miss something you’ve never even experienced?

A gasp enters his mouth as he feels over your pussy, how gloriously wet you are for the both of them.

“Get on the bed. Now.”

Lucilla smirks at you and takes your hand in hers, guiding you to the bed.

He begins to take off his armor, hearing the loud metal clatter to the floor as Lucilla kisses you with reimagined heat. Now that her husband has returned, she showers you with even more affection and praise.

“How do you want us, Marcus?” Lucilla asks before she begins to kiss down your neck and to your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your nipples before beginning to circle your peaks with her tongue.

Marcus watches with authority, his dark hair cast with speckles of silver as more and more of his body is shown to you for the first time. Lucilla seems to take notice, moving behind your body and adjusting your position on your knees to face Marcus at the edge of the bed.

“He’s handsome, wouldn’t you agree?” She whispers into your ear as her hand slips down the front of your body, slowly beginning to make circles around your already twitching clit. You whine weakly, to which Marcus smirks.

He sheds his undergarments, seeing his tan skin and body littered with old battle scars.

“You are unscathed? You are not hurt?” You whisper out of care, Marcus cooing softly as he comes closer and cups your cheek in his large hand. You allow the weight of your head into his protective hand, large eyes watching as he coddles you.

“I’m unhurt, sweet girl. Do you like how Lucilla touches you?” He asks as he strips out of his last garment, your eyes landing on his hard cock that angrily knocks against his lower stomach. The hair around his cock is dark, and all you wish to do is make it sopping wet.

At the sound of her own name, Lucilla speeds up her touches. You whimper out, your body shuddering into hers as she holds you tight and upright.

“The General has asked you a question, my dear,” Lucilla encourages. This only probes a faster speed of her fingers and the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter.

“I-I love it, I love it,” you whisper as your head falls back onto her shoulder, Lucilla moaning softly into your ear as she grinds herself against your bare ass for any bit of friction she can get.

“I think we should allow Marcus to have his way with us. Would you agree, my love?” She whispers to you, her other hand beginning to tweak and pinch at your nipples, only causing you to grow wetter.

“Fuck,” Marcus admires, “she’s so prone to your touch, Lucilla. You’ve done good.” He praises his wife, only causing her body to shudder against yours.

“Take us,” you gasp out, desperate eyes meeting his own, “please.”

Marcus positions you as he pleases, laying you on top of Lucilla and hiking both of you to the edge of the mattress. Your ass lies over hers, your pussies perfectly lined up as Lucilla is pitched up onto her knees and resting her forearms against the bed.

“First touch for my wife,” Marcus says as he begins to line his tip to her entrance.

Lucilla twitches at the touch but ultimately shakes her head.

“Allow it to her, my love. She’s never felt the touch of a man before, and I want her to feel you for the very first time. She’s waited for so long. I want to feel her cum slide down onto my cunt.”

The couple is so giving, allowing only for a most powerful match in the bedroom where everyone wins.

“As you wish.” Marcus manhandles your ass above Lucilla, stroking a hand down your lower back and playing with your hair. That is until he fists the ends and cocks your head upright. You hold a breath as your breasts stick to Lucilla’s warm back, feeling his tip prod against your entrance.

And you’re reminded that Marcus is to take what he wants.

In one swift thrust, he fills you to the brim. A cry is strangled from the depths of your throat, feeling Marcus pull your hair tighter in his hold.

“Oh, Gods, holy hell,” you whimper as he groans. Your entire body feels like it is on pins and needles, Lucilla moaning with you as Marcus massages your ass in his greedy hands.

“Been too fuckin’ long without my girls,” he grunts as he grinds himself into your ass, feeling both you and Lucilla shuffle with his movements. The coarse hair around his cock tickles your clit, Lucilla feeling you jerk at the sensitivity.

“How do you feel, darling?” Lucilla whispers, turning her head and capturing your distracted lips.

It’s impossible to string words together, the coursing thump of your walls against his protruding cock was enough to leave you mute in pleasure.

Your gasp enters the room as Marcus strikes his hand down onto your ass, quick to massage the plush flesh under his hold. He was so different from his wife, but this pleasure of rough desperation sprouted a new flood of arousal to gush around his member.

“My wife asked you a question,” he pants, keeping himself stationary inside you until you answer.

“Give her a moment, my love, she’s never felt a cock before.” Lucilla coos as she reaches back around both of your hips, her hand a soothing one compared to the burning print on your other cheek.

“I-I feel,” you gulp, panting weakly into Lucilla’s ear, “I fear I like it when he n-needs me,” you whisper, to which they both smirk wider.

“Did you hear that Marcus? She likes being a little whore to your cock.”

Marcus hums appreciatively, the rough hand stroking your ass going to squeeze what was his once more.

“Knew she’d be a good girl for us.” Marcus reels back his hips, your jaw dropping at the feeling that damn near burns - but you now see what Lucilla was speaking of on your nights together.

His cock is thick and large, swollen inside of you that allows you to feel every inch of him as he claims your cunt to be his. The ache of being gaping open for him begins to glimmer into pleasure, sweat beginning to coat your body as he quickens his hips over and over again.

It rocks you deeper into Lucilla, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans with you in unison; your pleasure hers, her pleasure yours, and both of your pleasures are Marcus’.

He begins to groan obscenities to you both as he pushes you to the edge, your fists clenching the bed sheets as pleasure overcomes you.

“Gods, this cunt is so goddamn tight, breaking this pussy in, makin’ it the shape of my cock,” he grunts as he begins to pound into you at a relentless pace, causing your screams and cries of pleasure to echo through his chamber.

“This pussy is all ours, right sweet girl?” He hums as he stuffs you full once more, your shaky breaths against Lucilla’s shoulder leaving you breathless.

“Y-Yes, sir, thank you, thank you,” you pant, all of a sudden falling a bit limp over Lucilla as he eventually slips his cock from your pussy, down to his wife.

It’s as if life is shot through her body, holding you up with ease as all of her muscles are alerted as his cock spears through her entrance.

“Christ,” She moans, smirking as her eyes fall close.

Marcus hums approvingly, beginning to hump into her and watching in delight as your ass slaps against his abdomen with each thrust.

“Feels so good to be back inside my home, my temple,” he worships her endlessly, holding her hips below yours and keeping her spread and steady.

“Holy hell,” Lucilla cries out, feeling every single nerve in her body twitch at the feeling of her husband being inside of her once more.

You bravely turn your head and look over your shoulder, in awe of the sight before you. Marcus’ muscles are all outlined and strong, his arms bulging as you marvel at the thick veins coursing up his forearm. The lewd smacks of your asses against his front are damn near enough to get you off.

He smirks as he stares at you, only fucking his wife harder and faster. Almost in a look of permission, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slip them in, suckling around each of your fingers until they are nice and wet.

With his nod, you reach around Lucilla and begin to circle her clit. She lets out a shocked moan, her eyes widening as you and Marcus work in unison to get her off. Your lips messily meet, your kisses rocked by his thrusts as you begin to circle her faster and faster.

“That’s it, please, yes!” She cries out, shaking and crumbling before you as she comes down Marcus' length.

“Don��t stop touchin’ her,” He barks.

Though he halts his thrusts, your fingers continue over her spasming pearl. She cries out your name and continues to twitch below you, shaking weakly as she comes a second time. You feel the stickiness against your fingers, and you greedily take them in your mouth, moaning softly at the sweet taste.

“Fuck,” Lucilla whispers as Marcus releases his hold on her and slips out, his cock still hard as a rock and resting against his stomach.

You both tumble onto the bed, your smile wide as you watch her come down from her euphoric orgasm.

“She… she hasn’t come yet, Marcus.” Lucilla weakly whispers, crawling up the bed as both you and Marcus share a look.

“You want me to finish her, my love?”

Lucilla hums and nods, crawling up to the pillows as she lounges casually, eyes lust over as she watches.

“You owe her for the many nights she served me. Make her feel as good as you make me feel.”

Lucilla notes the uncertainty in your face, cooing softly as she strokes her fingers over your face reassuringly. “I want you to have him. It would make me the happiest. Believe me, darling girl.”

Lucilla lays you back in front of the towering Marcus, his eyes raking over your body in a way that makes you nervous. Then he begins to stroke over his messy cock, slick in both of your arousal and his wife’s come.

“Lie with me?” You ask her weakly. Lucilla and Marcus share a look, to which he shakes his head.

Lucilla smiles tiredly and kisses your lips softly, one of love and care. “Let him take you fully for the first time. I want to watch him have his way with you.”

With her encouragement, you face Marcus who steps between your spread legs. Now that it’s just you two, it’s intimidating the way he stares down at you. Stern eyes cast over with desperation, his cock hard and ready to come.

But he’s more intimate this time, his body caging you in as he leans over you and hovers his face over yours. You nip at your lower lip as his tip nudges against your entrance, nodding softly as your eyes meet his.

He’s slower this time, groaning as your pussy surrounds him.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rocks his hips, feeling them maliciously snap the entirety of his length into you. “Been fantasizing about this, bein’ the first to feel this pussy.”

You nod again and gently cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes soften and stare down at you. Something primal seems to take over; taking you has made him protective, maybe even in a way that claims you.

You’re his, hers, theirs.

He takes in each cry you let out as he begins to pound into you repeatedly, your chest swelling as he trails kisses down your neck, suckling each of your nipples into his mouth. Fisting the sheets grounds you, but you note the loss of his focus. You return your hands to his face and he’s there again, fucking you like he owns you, like he loves you.

And maybe he does. Maybe he loves you like Lucilla does. But it would take more time to chip away at this soldier’s heart. But to be given the chance is something notable.

His aquiline nose nudges against yours, damn near growling as you lean up and pepper kisses down his jawline and along the coarse hair of his beard.

“Lucilla wrote how good you feel- fuck, she was right,” he forces out, hearing his voice strangle around his words. He’s close.

His thumb moves to your clit, ensuring you both finish together. You whimper at the electric contact, gasping as your lips brush against his own. He circles your clit faster, and his hips become more erratic with desperation.

“Finish inside her, meus amor,” Lucilla encourages, but you’re not sure how that feels.

Heat slips down your spine as Marcus seems to find a special spot that makes your stomach drop, moaning out for him to please you.

“I want to feel you, p-please, this feels too good,” you whisper to him, your whines on repeat with each thrust he gives you.

“Fuck,” he groans out, “you first,” he insists, circling your clit faster faster faster and finally, you come around his cock. Your walls pulse around him, feeling your white cream coat his throbbing cock.

You fall limp in his hold, your pearl twitching as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. It feels so much different with a man; you’re not sure if you love one more than the other, or maybe you love them equally.

Marcus, in the high of chasing his own orgasm after yours, moves his arms under your body, his hands bracing the top of your shoulders. With this hold, he locks you into place, and it allows him to plow into you unrelentingly.

“Fuck,” You cry out, feeling every inch of him over and over and over again. You reach blindly up the bed, your fingers extended as Lucilla takes your hand.

Marcus feverishly kisses you, deep and with need as his tongue slips into your mouth and lines his own with yours. He pulls away but only for a second, spitting into your open mouth before chasing your lips once more.

In one, two, three more thrusts, he stalls inside of you. A groan enters your mouth as his warmth paints your walls and you feel each spurt as he finishes deep inside your cunt. He groans your name, watching as his face contorts in pleasure.

All three of you fall into bed together, panting with all energy drained, eyes closed, basking in your shared pleasure.

That feeling comes over you again as Marcus moves up the bed, lazily kissing his wife and feeling over her skin.

“Missed you.” He whispers to her.

You move to stand, your shaky legs nearly giving out beneath you as you collect your clothes scattered on the floor.

“Where are you going?” They ask in unison, concern lacing over their features.

“I,” you start weakly, looking between them. “I thought I should return your marital bed. I haven’t slept in mine in ages.” You whisper with a smile. “Really, I insist.”

“Get back in this bed.” Marcus commands, wrapping his arm around his wife who is curled into his side.

“Please.” Lucilla insists, reaching her hand across Marcus’ chest and keeping it open for you.

You graciously smile and pad over to the open space on Marcus’ other side, slowly filling in and relaxing in their embrace.

Lucilla shares a kiss with you as Marcus cradles the back of both of your heads, smiling tiredly as you sigh into her mouth.

“My girls.” He praises, both you and Lucilla leaning in and sharing a kiss between all three of you.

main masterlist | notifications blog

#pedro pascal #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x f!reader #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius smut #gladiation 2 fanfic

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goldeunoias · 1 year ago

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Hoonie teaches you what happens if you make bad remarks about yourself....(not proofread)

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"See angel, don't you look so pretty?" Sunghoon purred softly in your ear, pulling down the straps of the pretty lingerie he'd bought for you.

You were sitting against his chest facing the full-length mirror, your legs forcefully held open by his own. You'd made the "mistake" of making negative remarks about your body in front of him, and Sunghoon wasn't having any of it, as shown by your current predicament.

"H-hoonie please," you whimpered out in embarrassment, face burning as Sunghoon spread the lips of your core. A string of curses left him as he watched you squirm and clench around nothing, sticky droplets of arousal leaking from your hole.

"I don't think you're looking properly. Look."

Sunghoon's voice had a bit more bite to it and he turned your chin towards the mirror and firmly held it in place, wanting you to take note of how gorgeous you looked with your silk camisole pulled down and your panties slipped to the side.

"Play with your nipples angel, watch how pretty they get as they harden," he cooed against your ear.

Bashfully you did so and shook slightly as you tugged on them harshly the way he would, your eyes flickering back and forth between your turned-on form and Sungoon's rosy cheeks.

"I think it's so cute how your tummy rises every time you touch them angel. Do you think it's from me playing with them that they've become so sensitive?" Sunghoon remarked, slithering his hand down to tug on a pert nipple himself. You gripped down on his wrist and gasped out his name, Sunghoon clucking his tongue in warning.

"Keep your eyes focused on yourself pretty baby, watch how cute your cunt looks taking a finger," he whispered. You watched through half-lidded eyes as Sunghoon slid his middle finger inside, curling his finger in the spot he had memorized.

"Sunghoon ohmygod," you rasped out as his thumb rubbed over your swollen clit, liquid now starting to drip from his hand as he languidly fingered you.

"You look fucking beautiful right now," Sunghoon groaned into your shoulder, sliding another digit and fingering you with a quicker pace.

You couldn't stop yourself from rutting into his hand desperately, Sunghoon adding to the pleasure as he drug his teeth up your neck before licking the shell of your ear.

"C'mon angel don't miss the show your pussy is putting on. You're leaking all over the place, how cute," he couldn't help but taunt.

"Don't you think you look beautiful like this?" Sunghoon inquired, removing his fingers to messily start rubbing your clit. The sensation was just as intense as his fingers and you tried to squirm away from the intense pleasure, Sunghoon's grip on you tightening.

"Answer my question pretty," he cooed, kissing your cheek as you stared at him in the mirror.

"Y-yes Ilookpretty," you slurred out, watching as your lower belly tightened up at the sensation he was giving you.

"We're never gonna say we're not pretty again right?" He pushed, sliding his two digits back in to stimulate the spot where your fingers couldn't reach.

"Mhmm, y-yes I won't," you panted out, feeling sweat form across your hairline.

"Promise?" he pouted, pulling out his fingers and rubbing your clit through your folds once more. The noises coming from your core made your face burn as it was completely soaked in syrupy arousal, the noises in the room reflecting such.

"I promisesunghnoon."

"Mmm, that's my angel."

A moan ripped through your chest as the knot in your lower belly snapped, Sunghoon watching in utter delight as liquid gushed from your core.

"thatta girl, take your time angel, such a pretty baby," Sunghoon cooed as he rode you through your high, your legs shaking as you lay in an afterglow of euphoria.

"Now say it with me: I'll always be your pretty angel," he cooed softly, peppering your face with warm kisses. You let out a tired giggle and nodded, turning around to face him completely.

"I'll always be your pretty angel."

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hmmm is this even worth posting IDK maybe someone out there will like it asdfasdf

#sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon fanfic #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 months ago

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REFLECTION

ellie williams x fem!reader, 581 words.

kinktober day two: mirrors. (NSFW)

You look back at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. A chair is pulled up to it, a gray cushioned chair that Ellie sits in beneath you.

You sit comfortably on her lap, facing the mirror in front of you. You watch in the reflection as Ellie’s hands trail along your waist, her gaze bores into you, and your face grows warm under the intensity.

It's cold in her room — winter in Jackson is freezing even in Ellie’s bedroom, it runs a shiver over your bare skin.

“Look at yourself,” Ellie orders, a reverent whisper as one of her hands runs along your upper thigh. “So pretty for me, aren’t you?”

Your legs spread a little wider — you hear her breath hitch as she takes in the sight of you with greater clarity: wet and nearly seeping into her jeans. Ellie’s hand inches closer upwards, brushing over you teasingly, fingers dipping to find your clit. Gently she circles it, watching her own movements in the mirror as she touches you.

Ellie’s other hand slides up to your chest. You feel a thumb brush over your nipples, your breath catching at the sensation. Her touch is rough as she grabs at your breasts, pulling and kneading and her dull nails digging into your skin.

She nips at your bare shoulder, eyes still focused on you in the mirror as she sucks at your skin. Softly she moans into you as she bites and runs her tongue over the new mark.

Your eyes close at the sensation of her fingers easing into you, your back arching, and Ellie pulls you closer to her before weaving her hand into your hair.

“Open your eyes,” she demands, and pulls at your hair sharply — it’s enough for you to obey. You meet Ellie’s gaze in the mirror.

“You’re mine,” she whispers, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you. You watch her fingers pumping inside of you in the mirror, you feel them, driving you to the edge of euphoria. “My good girl, watching me fuck you in the mirror.”

You suck in a breath, her lips attacking your neck. The sight of her, her desire for you is almost deranged. She hungers for you. Ellie is desperate in the reflection of the mirror – desperate to make you come, to make you hers, to see for herself in every heavenly detail how gorgeous you are under her touch.

You feel yourself getting closer, you feel your orgasm building with every pump of her fingers into you, with the way the heel of her hand bumps against your clit and her teeth sinking into your neck. You want to come for her, to see as she watches you come on her hand in the mirror.

“You’re going to fucking come for me,” she orders breathily, and you wonder from her tone if she’s as close as you are just from seeing herself ruining you. “Now.”

It hits you immediately – a sharp intake of break and your body tenses, you’re moaning under the ecstasy from her touch. Ellie doesn’t slow down, the pace of her fingers in you increases as she works you through your orgasm. She murmurs praise to you, that for her you’re doing so well.

Coming down from it, you look in the mirror at the two of you together. Ellie’s arms are around you now, holding you steady against her and wrapping you in her warmth as treasured reflections live before you.

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #kinktober 2024 #tlou2 smut #tlou smut #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #tlou

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winterarmyy · 4 months ago

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Against All Odds | Part III

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 5k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, gore, blood, violence, short yet emotional smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, overall low intensity angst with a bittersweet ending.

A/N: i want to thank all of you for taking some of your precious time to read my fic, i really appreciate it! this is the last installment of the main series, i hope you enjoy your time.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Standing at the altar, Bucky’s heart pounded loudly; excitement and sorrow interlaced within his being. The weight of Y/N’s death still haunted him; every time he closed his eyes, those horrifying images conquered his mind.

But today, this very moment, he had been given another chance. The conflict within him was fierce; he was determined to protect her this time, to keep them safe no matter the cost. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, but all his thoughts were interrupted when the church doors opened.

As the crowd rose to their feet, for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. Y/N walked toward him, each step amplifying the intense storm swirling inside him. She was more beautiful than he remembered, more radiant than he ever thought possible. In the past, he had been unfamiliar with the nuances of his emotions, but now, with his heart fully opened, he was consumed by an all-encompassing love.

The urge to rush to her, to pull her into his arms and never let go, was almost unbearable, but he forced himself to remain composed, to hold onto the control he needed.

As she walked down the aisle, he felt like his chest was on fire; it was almost overwhelming. Memories of their past life together flashed before his eyes, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he was determined to save.

And as Bucky lifted her veil, he couldn’t focus on anything else; the sight of her, so radiant and beautiful, so close, so real.The delicate fabric framed her face, accentuating the soft curve of her cheeks, the gentle arch of her brows, and the deep, soulful eyes that had captivated him from the moment they met.

When her eyes met his, he saw something unexpected in their depths; an innocence and trust that made his heart ache. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect this woman, not just from the dangers of what lies ahead in their future but also beyond this earth; heaven or hell, it does not matter.

Bucky gently placed a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body through the pristine fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her cheek, the touch both tender and deliberate. The sight of her up close, the feel of her under his touch, was both too much and not enough.

He leaned in and his heart raced vigorously in the trepidation of the chance that he might lose her again. But when his lips met hers, he was completely engulfed by immense euphoria. The happiness of being able to hold her again, to share this moment of tenderness, was so much stronger than the anxiety that hounded his mind. As he pulled away, he saw her blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with confusion and awe.

To be able to see such a sight again was a blessing; Bucky thought he had lost it forever. His chest seemingly expanded to accommodate the hope and determination filling the space within his ribcage. To ensure that this time, things would be different. He had longed for this moment, to have her in his arms again, and now that it was real, it was even more profound than he had imagined.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said softly, his voice carrying the depth of his emotions. “I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear.” The reassurance in his tone was genuine, a reflection of his own relief and longing.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes softened as he adored the tint of pink on her cheeks, “Good,” he added, his gaze tender and full of warmth. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Bucky’s nightmare was a relentless torture decorated with anguish and despair. And it was always the same series of events. Him riding through the frozen landscape, the biting cold of the snow searing through his worn leather boots. The icy wind howled around him, matching the torment that gripped his heart. The landscape blurred as he navigated the bloodied halls of their home, a once serene space now stained by violence and death.

Him, stumbling into their shared bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw her; Y/N’s body, brutally maimed and lifeless. The sight of his child, still and cold, was a dagger to his soul. The room was a horrifying tableau of shattered dreams and crushed hopes. His cries of despair echoed in the empty corridors of his mind, the reality of the scene blending with his deepest fears.

His body jerked violently as he jolted awake, the sudden shift from the nightmare to the waking world leaving him disoriented and breathless. The line between a mere dream and reality was blurred, the remnants of his terror clinging to him like a shroud.

He fumbled through the darkness, his mind racing as he struggled to grasp where he was. The echoes of his terror still haunted him, a grim reminder of the fragility of their happiness.

“Bucky?” Her voice, soft and uncertain, cut through his haze of panic. He blinked rapidly, struggling to focus.

“Y/N?” His voice was a whisper, fragile and filled with a tormented confusion. Seeing her was almost like a divine intervention, a moment of disbelief at her presence. He stared at her, trying to reconcile the vibrant, alive woman before him with the haunting vision he had just escaped.

Her presence was a stark contrast to the lifeless image burned into his mind. Seeing her breathing, speaking back to him, felt like a dream that will never come true.

Not wasting any time dwelling, his body surged forward, enveloping her in a gripping yet desperate embrace. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice trembling with the raw intensity of his emotions. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his grief and dread pouring out in the hidden agony.

The truth of his nightmare and the burden of his misery weighed heavily on him, almost impossible to bear; at least not alone. The words he wanted to speak were trapped within him, their pressure making it hard to breathe, let alone articulate his pain.

Bucky took refuge in his wife’s arm, focusing on the feeling of her hands moving soothingly up and down his back. “I’m here,” she whispered softly. “I’m here, Bucky.” Her presence was grounding; holding him tight in a reality that felt too fragile to trust.

The night was still and intimate, and Bucky’s need for her overwhelmed him. Their connection deepened as he made love to her, each touch, each kiss a frenzied affirmation of the life they still shared; a way to anchor himself to the truth of their love amidst the chaos of his dreams.

In the opulent chamber, Bucky stood like a silent sentinel, his form partially obscured by the shadows cast from the full moon behind him. The eerie silhouette of his shadow filtering through the large, arched window. The room was a luxurious display of wealth and power, adorned with velvet drapes and golden accents.

Despite the grandeur, the atmosphere was chilling, accentuated by the presence of Bucky in his Winter Soldier attire: a black mask, heavy boots, and a sleek, tactical uniform that made him appear as if he were more machine than man.

He moved with the ghostly grace of a predator, each step intentional and calculated as he approached the enormous bed at the centre of the room. The Emperor lay sprawled beneath an elaborate canopy, his slumber seemingly undisturbed by the chaos outside his lavish walls. It was almost laughable to Bucky that such a cruel ruler, whose hands were stained with countless deaths, could rest so easily, untouched by the spectres of guilt that should have plagued him.

Bucky’s gaze was unfeeling as he surveyed the sleeping figure. The Emperor's peaceful expression was a dichotomy to the turmoil that simmered beneath Bucky’s cold exterior. His presence, unmoving and imposing, made the room feel colder, his eyes devoid of warmth or emotion.With the steely void in his mind, his purpose clear as he stalked closer, each step making the heavy boots sound like distant thunder.

The Emperor stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Bucky standing at the foot of the bed. For a moment, there was confusion in the Emperor’s eyes, quickly replaced by a smirk. "I don't remember calling for you, soldier," he said, his tone half-joking, half-curious.

This was not the first visit at such ungodly hours for Bucky. Often the Emperor would call upon him to send him out on clandestine missions or covert operations.

Bucky’s unresponsive silence made the Emperor uneasy, a subtle crack in his facade of control. As Bucky’s form loomed closer, his eyes glinted with an icy determination that cut through the darkness like a blade. The realisation of the danger crept into his expression as Bucky reached the side of the bed.

Before the Emperor managed to call out for help, Bucky’s metal hand shot out, encircling the Emperor's throat with a grip of iron. His eyes widened in shock, "What is the meaning of this?" he croaked, his voice strained as he struggled against the unyielding grip.

Bucky’s voice was a low, menacing growl. "Why did you kill them?" he demanded. The Emperor’s face twisted into a mask of genuine confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” he said, his voice strained with bewilderment.

Eyes burning with an intensity that spoke of old wounds and unending fury, Bucky was in a trance-like state. His mind focused on the Emperor as the embodiment of the callousness that had devastated his life. To him, it mattered so little whether this version of the Emperor had committed the heinous acts or not. The knowledge that past him had once inflicted such horrors was enough to ignite Bucky’s rage.

“My wife,” Bucky growled, his voice cutting through the Emperor’s confusion with chilling clarity. The Emperor’s eyes widened further, a flicker of fear beginning to replace his initial disbelief. “Why did you kill her?,” Bucky continued, his tone carrying the heaviness of an unspoken pain.

The Emperor’s expression remained in a genuine concern, though it did little to mask his growing foreboding. “I never ordered anyone to lay hands on her,” he insisted, his voice cracking with a hint of desperation. “I would have remembered something like that.”

Bucky’s gaze remained unwavering, his anger as fiery as ever. The Emperor’s words, though spoken with a semblance of sincerity, only fueled Bucky’s fury. It wasn’t merely about this specific Emperor’s actions; it didn’t even matter if he had not done the deed yet.

It was about the realisation that such brutality happened once before. Much more atrocious to know that it had been sanctioned by someone in a position of power. The sense of betrayal ran deep, rooted in the knowledge that the cruelty was a part of a larger, systemic evil that had haunted Bucky’s past.

As the Emperor tried to reason with him, his terror and desperation were transparent. "I would never harm your wife," he protested weakly, his voice trembling with an echo of dismay. Bucky’s mind flashed with ghastly memories; the cold snow he rode through, the bloodied halls leading to their shared bedroom, the image of Y/N’s body maimed, his child lifeless. The horrific images fueled his rage.

"Oh, but you will." Bucky hissed, his anger boiling beneath the surface. His free hand drew a blade, the steel glinting with deadly intent. The Emperor's eyes were wide with horror; his pleas of defence were simply a string of meaningless words lost in the wind as Bucky’s resolve hardened.

With a swift, adept motion, the blade struck through the man’s throat. The Emperor gurgled; blood bubbling from the wound as his eyes widened in shock. Bucky’s face remained impassive, his cold eyes reflecting no mercy. He plunged the blade deeper, the Emperor’s feeble attempts to grasp Bucky’s arm proving futile.

Unfortunately for him, the first strike was not enough to quench the rage that burned within Bucky. He pulled the blade out and struck again. Again and again, the knife met its target, each jab driven by the anguish of countless painful memories. The bed beneath them soaked with the colour of crimson, the luxurious chamber now marred by the blood of its cruel occupant. The room filled with the grotesque sound of a life being extinguished, a gruesome symphony that echoed Bucky’s inner anarchy.

Bucky stood over the fallen ruler, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. As the adrenaline faded, Bucky’s vision suddenly began to blur, the edges of the room dimming into darkness. The world seemed to contract into a tunnel of darkness until a voice cut through the haze. “You really have to be that… brutal?” The voice was calm, yet filled with an air of reproach.

With his sight suddenly altered, Bucky turned towards the sound; the silhouette was unclear in his clouded vision, however he recognized the voice. “Steve,” he called out, his voice a low rasp.

Steve, the crown prince, stood in the doorway, his expression was weaving traces of concern and resignation. He took a step forward, the dim light catching the determination etched in his features. Tomorrow, he would be the new emperor, a role thrust upon him by necessity and circumstance.

Although Steve was one of the emperor’s blood; his only living male heir. His mother was not the empress but one of the many wives the emperor had taken. In the emperor's eyes, this made Steve unworthy of the crown, despite his lineage. This disdain had placed Steve in a precarious position, viewed as a threat rather than a successor.

In the past, Bucky and Wanda had seen Steve meet a tragic end, assassinated by the devout followers of the Emperor who refused to relinquish power. This time, Bucky and Wanda had approached Steve with a plan to overthrow the throne.

While withholding the truth of their origins, they convinced him to claim the crown for his own, knowing the kingdom already favoured him. The real challenge lay with the noble families, whose support was crucial. Over the past few months, Steve had skillfully manoeuvred through the intricate web of politics, winning their allegiance.

Meanwhile, Wanda had been executing a 'clean-up' operation at the magic tower, ensuring no loyalists of the emperor remained. By the time Bucky entered the emperor’s chambers, all potential threats had been neutralised. Soon, the kingdom would surely hear news of the youngest female master of the tower reigning in power.

“Hey, Buck. You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. Steve noticed the way Bucky’s eyes seemed to glaze over, staring into nothingness. Concern etched into his features, he took a step closer. Bucky blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision, but the blurriness persisted, leaving him disoriented.

As Bucky’s vision began to clear, he saw Steve’s concerned blue eyes staring back at him. “Yeah, just…” Bucky shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving the teleportation stone given to him by Wanda prior to the mission. His gaze fixed on the shimmering stone, the weight of his debt to the ancient magic pressed heavily on his mind; knowing the time to pay for it was drawing near. “…just missing my wife.”

Steve watched, a silent understanding passing between them. Bucky crushed the stone in his hand, the stone's magic activated with a flash of deep red light, enveloping Bucky in its embrace, swallowing him into the abyss and back to his home, to Y/N.

Moments later, the warmth and chaos of the Emperor’s chambers vanished as the cold night air hit him as Bucky found himself on the balcony of his home. Through the transparent glass, he could see his room bathed in a faint light. Inside, Y/N was reading by the soft glow of a night lamp. The sudden swoosh of Bucky’s arrival drew her attention, and she lifted her gaze from the book to the source of the sound. Her eyes widened as she saw the dark silhouette standing on the balcony.

"Hello?" she called out softly, her voice quivering with fear. She set her book aside and stood up, her silk nightdress flowing around her like a whisper of moonlight. She walked to the balcony door, the rhythm of her heart quickened as anxiety creeped in.

As the door opened, the cold wind tickled a shivering goosebumps on her skin. She looked up at the man, her eyes widening in surprise and anxiousness. Bucky, on the other hand, remained still; his mask and dark attire made him look as if he were a ghost from her nightmares. His eyes, however, were unmistakable. The familiar blue gaze met hers, and she recognized him instantly.

Y/N’s initial fear melted away as she stepped closer towards him, "Why are you out here in the cold, love?" she asked gently, standing only inches from his foreboding self. The distinction between them was hardly difficult to spot: her soft, fragile appearance in her silk nightdress against his imposing, almost monstrous form in his combat gear.

Bucky stayed silent, his eyes trained on her as if trying to memorise every feature, every delicate line of her face. She reached up, her fingers slightly trembling to the cold, gently removing his mask. The emotionless facade that he put up crumbled almost instantly, his eyes softened as she smiled up to him. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble, "Come inside," she urged softly. "You're freezing."

He didn’t argue as he allowed himself to be led into the warmth of their room. Y/N’s hands moved with gentle resolution. As they reached the side of their bed, she began undressing him from his harsh, restrictive attire down to his shorts and sat him on the mattress behind him. She traced the scars on his body, each one a testament to the battles he had fought, and her fingers made their way up to his stubbled jaw, cupping his cheek tenderly.

"Bucky… you look so troubled." She noticed. "What's wrong, my love?" her voice filled with concern. She came to his side, sitting close as she spoke softly, “Tell me,” her eyes searched within his, “...please?”

Bucky took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the burden of the truth he was about to reveal. "Y/N," he began, his voice slow, as if he was afraid, "This... this isn't our first time living through this. Our marriage, our life together, it was supposed to be different.”

Everything that had been haunting him for the past months spilled out for Y/N to consume. He spoke of the first time he stood at the altar, the way he was clumsy and rough the first time he touched her, their awkward moments, and the ups and downs that became the foundation of their budding romance.

He told her about her pregnancy, the joy he felt from it, how she glowed with happiness, and the dreams they had for their child. He recounted his request for retirement, wanting to leave his life as a weapon behind to be with his family, to protect and cherish them.

But then he spoke of the horror that shattered his world. How he found her dead with their child, both victims of the Emperor’s cruelty. He described the devastation, the unbearable pain, and the crushing sense of failure. He had lost them both, and his heart had been torn apart. "I lost you once before. You and our child," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Bucky continued, his words pouring out in a rush. He spoke of Wanda, how she had given him a chance to come back, to change things, to save her, to save them. He told her about the sacrifices, the battles fought in the shadows, and the relentless drive to protect her and their unborn child. He described the nightmares that haunted him, the fear of failing again, and the desperate hope that this time, things would be different.

Yet, as he bared his entire soul to her, Bucky kept one critical detail shrouded in silence. He did not mention the true cost of altering time, the personal price he had to pay for this chance at redemption. The burden of that price, the debt to ancient magic that had exacted a toll on him, remained untold, a hidden weight that he bore alone. At least for now.

Y/N was silent, her mind racing to comprehend the enormity of his confession. It sounded impossible, yet there was a sincerity in Bucky's voice, a pain that was all too real. She thought back to the subtle hints in his behaviour, the way he seemed to know her so intimately, as if he had known her for a lifetime. She remembered the moments when he would finish her sentences, anticipate her needs before she even voiced them, and the way he looked at her with such profound love and fear, as if he was afraid she would disappear.

Tears welled up in Bucky’s eyes as he reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “It’s true, Y/N. Every word. I’ve lived through this nightmare, and I couldn’t bear to lose you again.” However, Y/N’s silence scared him. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, terrified that she would reject his story, reject him. Bucky's tears fell freely now, landing on her skin like tiny droplets of despair. "Say something, please," he begged, his voice choking with emotion.

Y/N’s mind and heart were in turmoil, but something deep within her, something in her soul, told her to put her faith in him. Just like that, she believed him. Her heart ached at the thought of the pain he must have endured. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes searching in his ocean blues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you so soon, love,” she said softly, not knowing why her voice broke..

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened with relief, his tears flowing even more; raw and unfiltered. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she would vanish. “Y/N” he whispered against her hair, his voice was a sound of agony and respite.

Y/N’s own tears fell as she held him close. She didn’t fully understand the mechanics of time or the magic that had brought him back, but she knew one thing: she loved this man with all her heart, and she would do anything to ease his pain.

“Thank you for saving me.” she echoed, her voice soft but firm.

Their tears of sorrow began to shift into a more tender, fervent connection as their need for each other deepened. Bucky’s lips found Y/N’s in a searing, passionate kiss. Their tears mingled and cascaded down their cheeks as they lost themselves in the embrace. Each touch, each kiss, was imbued with an urgency to reaffirm their bond and erase the pain that had haunted him.

Every piece of clothes were thrown aside; discarded in their frantic desire to be closer. Bucky’s touch grew more intimate; hands moved to pin Y/N's hands above her head, pressing her wrists gently but firmly into the bed. His eyes, dark with desire and love, bore into hers.

“Let me see you, my dear. Please, let me see all of you,” Bucky whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he removed his hands from her wrists, roaming over Y/N’s body. His touch is a mix of reverence and desperation. He explored the curve of her waist, the gentle slope of her hips, and the soft, supple skin that felt like a lifeline to him.

He trailed his lips down Y/N’s neck, savouring the softness of her skin, leaving a trail of heated kisses. His breath warmed her as he explored her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and lower, where his lips brushed against the delicate curve of her breasts. Each kiss was a worshipful caress, a testament to his adoration and need for her.

A simple nudge of his hips and Bucky sinks in, breathes caught in the air when he starts to move; “You feel so good, so tight around me.” His thrusts were slow, sensual yet deliciously deep. “I love you so much,” his declaration spread warmth all over heart, filling up every space possible; much like his huge, throbbing cock to her cunt. So full, so good. While he rocked his hips, Bucky’s lips trailed delicately on her cheek, “My dearest” he murmured watching the tears fall from the corner of her eyes, “My everything”.

Y/N, feeling the intensity of his love and the raw need in his embrace, responded with equal fervour. Her hands ardently moved over his broad shoulders and down his back, feeling the contours of his muscles tense and relax under her touch. She could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he clung to her as if she were his salvation.

Bucky’s calloused fingers slipped downwards, reaching to where their bodies were most connected. He found a grounding pleasure as he swirled soft circles on her sensitive clit; rubbing it the way he knew she loved. Y/N leaned into his touch, her body responding to his every movement. Her breaths came in short, heated whimpers as Bucky’s hands continued their exploration, his fingers grazing over her sensitive skin with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

Creating a slight distance between them, Bucky leaned back and revelled in the sight of her; what a view she was.

Her hair was messy in the most beautiful way, cascading around her face like a halo. Her hands gripped the sheets behind her, knuckles white, grounding herself in the intensity of the moment. Her body arched gracefully, a perfect curve that pushed her hips toward his in a silent plea for more. His fingers; now wet with her slick, continued to rub tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“There she is. So pretty for me, so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky murmured lowly, his voice filled with desire and awe.

“Bucky, please,” she whispered, her voice a plea, her legs around his waist tugging him closer.

Bucky found her shy desperation was seductive yet so innocently pure. “God, how am I so fucking lucky?” Bucky’s breath shuddered as he felt the way her pussy clenched in protest of his delay; his voice heavy with emotion as he moved against her, his eyes locked onto hers. The raw need in her voice, the way her body responded to his touch, made his heart swell with unrestrained desire.

The metal of his left hand found their way to her hips, guiding her with a gentle yet insistent touch as his fleshed finger worked on her clit. Despite the hard and hasten pace of his thrusts, their movements were synchronised, each grind was a need to chase that height of ecstasy.

The room was filled with their whispered breaths, their shared moans of pleasure, and the undeniable proof of their love. Their connection transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls, reaffirming the bond that had defied time and fate.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Bucky whispered, his voice raw and filled with affection as he held her close, their hearts beating in perfect harmony.

“I love you, too, Bucky.” she replied, her voice trembling with the intensity of her feelings.

As they reached the peak of their high, their cries of passion were mingled with their whispered promises of devotion. Every touch was a declaration, every kiss a vow to never be separated again, and every warmth filling inside her was a possible gift of a future they looked forward to.

Afterward, they lay entwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal, the room filled with a quiet sense of contentment and amour. Compared to prior, this time, their touch was gentle, almost innocent compared to the fervent passion earlier. They held each other, caressing skin, savouring the quiet moments of closeness. Bucky felt at ease, a sense of peace washing over him that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like lifetimes.

Bucky’s perspective was filled with the sight of Y/N. He drank in every detail, from the curve of her lips to the softness of her cheeks, to the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. Her skin was a beautiful contrast to his own, delicate and smooth; pure and untainted. He traced his fingers lightly over her features, committing them to memory with a sense of awe and gratitude.

She yawned as fatigue creeped in, snuggling closer, tighter. Bucky brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “You should sleep, sweetheart.” he whispered softly. Y/N smiled, her eyes already half-closed. “See you in the morning?” she murmured, her voice laced with drowsiness.

At that moment, Bucky’s vision began to blur again; worse than before. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but the edges of his sight remained dark and unfocused. He felt a pang of fear but pushed it aside. The time had come, he realised. He kissed her forehead gently, revelling in the feel of her skin against his lips. “See you in the morning, my dear,” he replied, his voice steady despite the growing darkness in his vision.

He smiled down at her as she snuggled, his heart filled with joy and serenity. Bucky held onto her tightly, cherishing the moment, knowing that no matter what happened, their love had conquered time itself. He marvelled at the fact that against all odds, he had saved the woman he loved, and nothing could take that triumph away from him. In the end, even with his eyes still wide open, he let the encroaching blackness take over, surrendering to the inevitable with a heart full of love and a soul finally at peace.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: we have reached the end of the journey, i am sorry if you feel like the story is a bit rushed; i am not capable to commit more than 3 chapters, otherwise this will ended up being in a hiatus. i, however, can consider writing oneshots for this au somewhere in the future. meanwhile, leaving your comments behind would definitely make me happy!

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #medieval!bucky #winter soldier!bucky #duke!bucky #grumpy!bucky #soft!bucky

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ohwaitimthewriter · 5 months ago

Text

Look at me if you dare

Pairing : Noa x human!reader

Warnings: angsty fluff? Fluffy angst? (you chose!)

Words: 4.3k+ (for real?? 😳)

Requested:

A/N: So! I didn't plan it to be this long but HERE WE ARE. I had to remove the 'getting angry' part but for good reasons, and only if you'd be interested in,: I'm thinking about a part 2 🫣 I need some time to ponder about it, but it is still a possibility! Thank you for your request, I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you'll like it! 😁 (even if it took me forever and I'm so sorry for this 🥺)

Enjoy your reading 😁

Planet of the Apes Masterlist.

Crouching at the river's edge, you watched your reflection ripple with the waves of the peacefully flowing water. You observed the gap between your eyes and the shape of your nose, which marked the boundary between the two. The little dimple formed by your upper lip just below the bridge of your nose and the plump of your lower lip. The thin line they formed, neither a smile nor a sad pout, a straight line free of expression.

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The hunting had been good that day. A stag, one of the biggest bucks in the deer herd. Euphoria had spread throughout the colony when none other than Noa, the leader of the Eagle clan, had returned from a long day's hunting with a few of his own. Anaya and Soona, of course, were part of the group, and you watched the two friends squabble with Noa over who had the best approach to killing the deer. Anaya was certainly trying to take more of the credit, puffing his chest out, but he quickly shook it off when Soona gave him a light punch in the ribs, complaining that he had no right to take full credit for the success of the hunt.

It was, of course, a team effort, and success depended largely on following the instructions given to each individual after agreeing on the best strategy. And this time, the best strategy was Noa's.

You watched them bickering, bragging about their feat, and could only smile at Noa's proud face, knowing full well that he had been the most astute on this hunt. The most astute and therefore the best provider for his clan.

And then his gaze met yours.

The cocky restlessness that radiated from his stance subsided. He glanced at the carcass strapped to his horse's saddle before locking his green irises into yours again and untying the animal, which fell to the ground with a thud.

Noa grabbed the animal by its antlers and began to drag it with one hand behind him, as he made his way towards you.

It seemed you were the only one who didn't quite understand what was happening. Anaya wanted to follow Noa, but it only took one look for Soona to understand and stop Anaya in his tracks. Anaya gave her a quizzical look before his mouth formed an 'O' in realization.

Dragging the animal's carcass seemed effortless, even though it was obvious that Noa was trying to hide the uncomfortable strain he had to exert on his arm muscles. Despite his thick fur, you could easily see the strength he was capable of, his muscles becoming more prominent with the 200kg of inert weight he had to pull behind him. He moved on all four, really only using three of his limbs, and the force of the pull made his shoulders even bulkier. The whole scene was rather impressive, but you had question marks plastered all over your face as Noa drew closer and closer to you.

Earlier in the afternoon, you had sat down by the big communal fire to work on making a spear more suited to your build. You didn't leave the log you were sitting on until the hunt was over. For a brief moment, you thought Noa wasn't really coming to you, but rather dragging the animal to the bonfire to share it with the rest of the colony. You wanted to believe it, because the wrathful looks of some disapproving apes were beginning to weigh heavily on your shoulders and you didn't quite understand what you had done to endure their judgment.

The carcass fell in front of you, and at the same time you heard an ape… Ezio, if you remembered his name correctly, who had taken part in the hunt, utter a muffled growl of… protest?

If you heard it, Noa must have too, but he decided to ignore it, preferring to keep all his attention on you. His stunning green eyes landed in yours and, like every time he gazed into the immense depths of your irises, you were afraid he'd discover a secret you'd been keeping under lock and key ever since you'd discovered it yourself. A secret that drew you irrevocably to him, but which you suppressed and buried deep inside yourself when the eyes of apes like Ezio landed on you.

You chose to avert your gaze towards the dead animal in front of you and prevent him from discovering it. Noa placed his hand firmly on the beast, pushing it further towards you until it touched your feet.

Why… was he bringing you the carcass?

You looked up at him again, and though you tried to give him an unsure smile, the silent question could be read in your eyes as they settled back on Noa.

No matter how much Noa saw you doubting, he couldn't help but feel proud to have brought you such a trophy. He wanted you to see it, to realize the strength it had taken him to kill it, bring it back and drag it to you. He wanted you to see his qualities as a leader, his qualities as a hunter, qualities that made him a perfect mate and that he would be perfectly capable of providing for all your needs… whatever they might be. He'd killed that deer for you, as proof that he was the best match for you. And any doubts you might have had could only be swept away by those 200kg of fresh meat he'd hunted.

At least, that's what he told himself in the back of his mind. That's what he wanted you to acknowledge in him.

In front of his attentive and expectant gaze, you remained unable to understand why he had placed the body of this animal at your feet.

On closer inspection, the stag was of impressive size, and there was no doubt that its remains alone could feed the entire colony. Your eyes followed the animal's shape and you couldn't help imagining its life before it unfortunately crossed the path of Noa and his hunting team. The animal must have been majestic. Its antlers were broad and you could count 14 points. An old creature. From the way its body was laid on the ground, you could only see one of its eyes, and the lifeless black iris squeezed your heart. A wave of empathy for this beautiful animal swept through your body and you instinctively leaned towards its corpse. With tentative fingers, you stroked its shoulder, as if to soothe the soul of the animal that had just given its life to provide for others. Its light-brown bristles were rough against the delicate skin of your fingertips, but it didn't matter, especially as you were certain to feel the gazes of the entire colony scanning your every move. Some approving. Others tolerant. And the last, disapproving.

You tried to push away the burning sensation in the back of your head caused by all those eyes on you, and uttered in a whisper addressed only to that deer, and perhaps, to Noa too, a heartfelt "thank you" for this animal's sacrifice.

Noa tilted his head towards you, seeking your gaze as he tentatively brushed your fingertips to capture your attention. A cloud of tingling ran up your fingers, from your hand to the hollow of your collarbone, creating a mass of tingles there that spread down your spine.

"He fought well."

Noa's gruff voice was meant to be reassuring. He understood your sympathy for the deer and wanted to be sure to let you know the animal had given everything to survive, but that Noa had been the strongest of the two.

You nodded silently and quickly wiped away a tear you hadn't felt rolling down your cheek. You took a deep breath, sharing a glance with Noa.

"Now it can rest." You say. " It'll serve us well."

Noa breathed through his nose proudly at your approval. It was all he needed, all he asked of you, and he grabbed the deer's antlers again to take it away in preparation for dinner.

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You ran your tongue over your teeth, and if you weren't showing them off to the little fish that passed by, oblivious to the giant you were compared to them, you made a mental note of the shape of each of them. Smooth, not particularly sharp, and even the teeth you used as canines weren't particularly well-suited to forcefully shredding any fish or animal flesh.

Not… suitable.

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That evening, Soona joined you for dinner. Sitting cross-legged, you had set a bowl of vegetables and fruit in front of you, and on a thick piece of cloth was a piece of meat from the deer that Noa had brought you earlier.

Crouching beside you, Soona was biting into the animal flesh, and you admired the ease with which she was able to detach the raw meat and chew it as she would on the juicy flesh of an apple. Your meat, on the other hand, was cooked.

Soona glanced at the sharp little blade lying delicately next to your meat. Even though she was used to seeing you use it to cut small pieces of meat or fish, there was still a kind of fascination in her eyes. The Echos jaws weren't as powerful and efficient as those of chimpanzees, and while she didn't think they were very practical for everyday life, she was fascinated by your ability to find tricks to make life easier.

Her gaze was always benevolent, and you were never afraid to show her all the human tips and tricks that enabled you to navigate your daily life without too much trouble. Even in the troubles your three friends sometimes got you into.

Something as simple as biting into a piece of meat became a challenge, in all proportion, for a human, and this was quite fascinating for Soona.

But tonight, there was a glitch. Like a feeling of discomfort towards this piece of meat. Normally, you would have started by eating meat, or fish depending on the day. Meat, then vegetables, then fruit. A very specific order that you followed at every meal, even if Soona didn't understand the point of always having to "start with what's salty and finish with what's sweet", as you'd explained to her when she'd asked you. "I prefer to have a sweet taste in my mouth as a last bite." Soona hadn't had the heart to argue otherwise, if that was what you preferred then so be it.

And tonight, you had left your meat aside.

How odd.

Soona briefly moved her hand to show you your meat before signing.

" Not eating?"

Your eyes fell on the untouched meat. Usually, you would have taken the time to cut it up before starting your meal. But not this time. The blade you had taken out of your satchel after cooking the food over a fire had drawn more than a few questioning looks, some almost suspicious.

How long had people been watching you like this? Had it been a long time? And if so, how had you managed not to notice before?

Maybe you'd been blinded by the kindness and acceptance that Noa, Soona, Anaya and even Dar - who more than once had left you stunned by Noa's mother's tenderness towards you - had granted you. Your human condition had never been called into question, and although it had taken several weeks - months for some - for your presence among the clan to become as natural as taking a breath, you had never felt… rejected.

So why now? Why were you suddenly aware that maybe… your mere presence was perceived as that of a virus that needed to be contained. Like an underlying disease that had taken several months to blossom into its first symptoms.

Ezio and his gang of three other apes were stationed right in front of you, on the other side of the communal fire. The contemptuous look they gave you knotted like ropes around your wrists and you found yourself unable to move them to grab your blade and cut your meat.

You didn't know what to say to Soona because you really weren't eating your meat. Not because you didn't like it, nor because you weren't hungry, but because the judgment weighing on your shoulders blocked any will to move a muscle in the pit of your stomach.

Your gaze stopped for half a second on Ezio, who took advantage of your brief attention to challenge you, a small huff piercing through his muzzle, letting his cheeks formed a light puff.

You chose not to dwell on it and focused instead on Soona, who was looking at you with concern. You hesitated over your words before blurting out:

"I… I wouldn't want to… wouldn't you feel awkward watching me cut up the meat?"

Your question was genuine, but Soona widened her eyes, astonished by the implication of your sentence. She almost wished she'd laughed at you, because in all the time she'd seen you do it, it was about time you started worrying if that was really how you felt.

"Why would I bother?" She asked back.

And you sighed. Point scored for Soona. Your question made no sense as far as Soona was concerned. Of course she didn't care, and if she had, you were almost convinced she'd have asked you about it by now.

Seeing your defeated face, Soona went on to sign.

"I understand." And she gestured to your jaw. "Weak. Easier in small pieces to chew." She paused for a moment to gauge your reaction, and you seemed to accept her silent words. "I understand." She repeated aloud this time, her voice slightly rocky on the edges. "Anaya understands." She went on, and as if she could read the real reason for your concern in your eyes, she finished by directing her gaze towards the clan leader who was sharing his meal with Dar. "Noa… understands."

But Ezio and his friends didn't understand.

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Your hand plunged into the river, shattering your reflection, which had suddenly seemed too hard to look at. You didn't like what you saw. The water seeped through your fingers and its coolness slid under your skin in a vain attempt to bring some sanity back to your brain.

The delicate nature of your skin suddenly jumped out at you. Your hand bore various scars, large ones from sharp stones, small ones from bramble thorns, scratches from tree bark…

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You'd looked for it everywhere.

Earlier in the morning, you had wished to go outside the village boundaries in search of a particular plant. It was about to be that time of the month when your period pains would start, and valerian, a plant with small white flowers, could help ease those painful cramps.

Soona would usually accompany you, but today she was busy with Dar. So you decided to go alone, but to your surprise, Noa refused. He argued that it was too dangerous for you to venture outside the territory of the eagle clan, almost forgetting that you had been living outside its boundaries for several months.

After extensive negotiation, he gave you permission to go, on one condition: that you take your spear with you and that Eagle Sun go with you.

But the spear you usually left at the entrance to your hut had disappeared. After spending an hour looking for it, Eagle Sun became restless and an unfamiliar ape, whom you'd seen hanging around with Ezio, informed you that he'd seen a spear… in a tree.

So you ended up right there, and the longer you stared at the top of the tree, the more you felt dizziness creep into the back of your skull.

Your spear was probably 8 meters, maybe 9, above your head. The ape who had shown you the way had pretended to have urgent business to attend to, and left you to ponder how you were going to climb a tree whose first branches were 3 meters above the ground.

After a minute's thought, you decided that with a sufficiently high first support, you'd certainly be able to pull yourself up onto the first branches and climb to your spear. There was only one effective way to do this: a horse.

Surprisingly enough, it had worked. It had worked so well that it had angered Ezio, who had been watching the whole scene in the hope that you'd end up making a fool of yourself and proving that you had no place among the eagle clan.

A split second was all it took. You had begun climbing down, having previously dropped your spear to the ground, when a sudden jolt made you lose your balance. The branch your foot was aiming for slipped away, and your hands suddenly clutched the trunk in a vain attempt to hold on to your body, which you felt falling like a mass toward the ground. The bark burned your skin and cut into its surface as you tried to slow your fall and, fortunately, your feet hit another branch before your body finally hit the ground with an impact you could only imagine would cause severe pain.

Okay, 5 good minutes.

Your forehead pressed against the rough trunk, trying to calm your suffocating breathing. You felt as if your heart was threatening to burst out of your ribcage, its beats hitting your ribs so hard. Your trembling hands, still clasped around the trunk, curled in on themselves, leaving only the bottom of your palm touching the bark that had bruised them.

You didn't want to make a move. You closed your eyes, unable to bear the sight of the ground a few meters below you. You didn't want to move, and anyway, even if you wanted to, the pain radiating from the inside of your hands prevented you from gripping anything. You didn't even dare examine your hands, for fear that the mere act of bringing them towards you would cause you to lose your balance again and end up on the floor.

And even when your name rolled off Noa's lips, you didn't react. You tried to breathe deeply, trying to calm the heart that had started a race faster than it could keep up with, but you couldn't get rid of the fear that had gripped your insides the moment you fell.

Fear. You felt it keenly now. It ran through your veins and forced you to hug the trunk as tightly as you could, undeniably tightening your legs around the branch you'd suddenly found yourself sitting on. It was fear, too, that made you jump when a large hand came to rest gently on your shoulder.

Noa.

Unlike you, he had climbed with incredible speed and fluidity. His build was made for it. His hands, his feet, all his muscles - everything was designed to enable him to pull himself up any structure without difficulty.

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, urging you to look at him, but you stubbornly kept your eyes closed, your forehead almost wishing it could sink deeper into the bark which would most likely leave a mark on your skin.

A soft hoot escaped his mouth, hoping that this time you'd turn your head towards him, but fear gnawed at your stomach too much to dare move a muscle.

And yet, you had to.

You wanted to rage at yourself for your inability to move, for your stupidity in climbing that tree, for your stupidity in not being smarter and realizing that your body wasn't made for such a feat. For not having enough strength or balance or dexterity. But your trail of destructive thoughts ended when you felt the knuckles of Noa's fingers brush gently against your cheek, carefully beckoning for your attention.

His thicker, rougher skin turned out to be much more tender than it first appeared, and your eyelids fluttered at his touch before opening fully, allowing your eyes to look at him.

His cheeks puffed up slightly letting out a gust of air, twice as content that he'd got what he wanted and that you'd accepted his touch. How about thrice as content when his scent, faint as it was, had just mingled with yours in the exact spot where his knuckles had landed.

His hand clung to the tree trunk again, and your skin felt quite cold all of a sudden as it lost his touch.

"Come." His low voice danced in your eardrums.

He locked eyes with you and promptly adjusted his posture to match with where you stood, making it easier for you to slide onto his back. And if fear had made you reluctant to leave your pitiful safety on that branch, it was quickly swept away when Noa gently grabbed your wrist and wrapped your right arm around his neck.

The sudden proximity of your face to his enclosed you in a protective bubble that belonged only to the two of you. You couldn't remember ever having seen him look at you in such a warm, loving way, and the softness of his green eyes felt like a barely perceptible touch, only leaving you longing for more. A brief floating moment in which you were both ready to lose yourself as his fur tingled the skin of your bare forearm, and you almost thanked it for keeping your feet on the ground.

What could he possibly see through you to look at you in this way?

When you took the time to look at him, you saw strength, benevolence and an insatiable desire to meet the needs and expectations of his clan; you saw reliability, commitment and, more than anything else, safety. He didn't have to do much to make all these things shine through in his features. Through it all, Noa was radiant to your eyes. And you were easily swept away in languid admiration if you weren't careful.

And then there was you. Unable to climb a tree. So what did he see within you?

You left the safe mental bubble in which you'd both found yourselves entangled inside to finally hoist yourself fully onto his back, wrapping your legs around his slimmer waist and your arms around his powerful shoulders.

In less time than it took to say it, you were back on solid ground for an inspection of your wounds.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You hadn't been here very long, but you could already feel your thigh muscles screaming with discomfort, in this position so unnatural to you.

Not wanting to fight the tugging sensation, you let yourself fall on your bum, choosing a cross-legged position, more comfortable and less demanding for your… weak muscles.

The water clung to the fabric of your pants with little splashes, gradually flooding the inside of your shoes in the process. Although the coolness sent shivers down your spine, it didn't stop you from contemplating your body's constitution with a certain contempt.

An unsuitable jaw. Delicate skin. Weak muscles. It was an inevitable conclusion shared by many.

You could see them now. Those stares.

Those stares that said "weird".

Those stares that said "weak".

Those stares that said " not belonging ".

And the more you saw yourself in the waves of that river, the more you realized they were right. You didn't belong.

A raindrop slammed into your reflection, just above your cheek, creating a halo of tiny waves that distorted the features of your face. Then another raindrop clattered with a silent " splash ", and yet another, until it blurred your vision.

It was only when you had wiped the tears from your eyes that you noticed the reflection of a second figure appearing beside yours.

Without bothering to look directly at him, you let out a deep sigh when his shoulder brushed yours as Noa came to crouch beside you. His eyes were glued to your reflection as it danced in the gentle swell.

What did his irises see within your reflection?

You sensed a form of understanding, as if he knew what was going round and round in your head, and in a slight moment of comfort, you felt his shoulder press so lightly against yours that, if you didn't know better, you might have thought it a mere happenstance.

"you belong here." The light touch on your shoulder seemed to tell, and a tear dropped down your cheek again, "Look at me," it seemed to tell him. "I'm looking at you," his careful gaze told you. A second tear joined the first, " Look at me properly." and he huffed through his nose, confident but eventually his eyes acknowledged and conceded to your human condition. Another tear rolled down your skin, clinging for dear life to the tip of your chin before crashing into the water, "you see it now". Noa shifted his eyes away from your reflection, "I see it", putting an end to the silent talk.

His reflection disappeared from the surface of the water, leaving only a sensation of emptiness as his massive body moved from its spot beside you.

Noa glanced back at you, watching you curl into yourself, still sadly obsessed by a reflection he could only find beautiful.

#noa x human reader #planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #noa kotpota #pota noa #noa x reader

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sky-is-the-limit · 1 year ago

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(I saw this divine creation by @ave661 and went into spiral. I need to be spayed.)

C: NSFW/Mirror sex

P:F!reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

You dare to voice an insecurity about your body in front of Gaz? He wouldn't stop until the thought seemed like a silly jest in your head.

''Eyes up here, look at me angel-'' His gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to idolize the rest of your body in the mirror, enamored by every inch of naked skin in his hands, utterly lost in the sweet euphoria of your presence.

There was a throbbing between your legs, a heavy pressure filling you up whilst he was caressing your breasts at a painfully slow pace, fingertips nudging your sensitive nipples with every motion. He was truly exploring your body, the look in his eyes priceless as though holding the world's most desired treasure.

''Do you see how beautiful you are like this? So fucking beautiful baby, made for this- '' His free hand grasped his cock before guiding himself between the sticky mess of your thighs, notching slightly at your entrance whilst coting himself with your slick.

The sensation made you whimper, arching your back against his chest desperately as he slipped himself through your soaked folds before thrusting into your core with a groan. After the initial stretch and fullness, you briskly adjusted to his size as you had so often before.

''Made to take my cock-“ His words were pure heat against the shell of your ear, thrusting his hips faster, free hand moving to grab the base of your throat, fingers settling on your neck like the finest necklace.

“Kyle-” You gasp reverently, feeling him pushing against your entrance unhurriedly, sharp sparks of pleasure buzzing through you at the hazy state of him.

''Look at yourself, fuck- you were carved by angels darling-'' The sight of yourself staring back at you makes you embarrassed by how depraved you seem from his touch, hickeys decorating your neck, trailing down to your bare chest, your thighs glistening with your own wetness dripping down your skin.

“No shying away.'' Kyle mumbled against your neck before giving your ass a firm smack, trailing his hand up to your jaw so he could turn your gaze back in the mirror. Watching yourself in a state like this feels like an out-of-body experience.

“Watch yourself.'' In the midst of every slow, hard, and purposeful thrust that he made, he held his mouth close to your ear, drawing out moans loud enough for anyone within reach to overhear. You obeyed to his words naturally, craning your neck up to meet his half-lidded eyes.

''Watch how breathtaking you are-" Your walls convulse, shuddering around his length, sucking him in deeper while he moved one hand down to your clit, using his thumb to rub softly, in small circles causing you to mewl out, tears forming with the intensity of pleasure filling up your body.

You can't even remember what came out of your mouth, leading up to this. It feels like you lost any ability to form words or thoughts any longer as Kyle continues snapping at a furious pace, cock touching your cervix with every thrust, gradually increasing the speed of his thumb, tightening circles around your clit as he put more force into slapping his hips against yours.

''Watch how good I'm fucking you-” He punctures each word with a thrust as his own climax builds low in his abdomen. He knows exactly how his voice alone can push you closer to the edge and uses it as his strongest weapon. In the reflection, you see him smirking proudly, sharp fangs flashing against your shoulder.

''Watch yourself come undone.''

#the fact that this man has fangs like that i want him to send me to the hospital #till every hole in my body can recognise every atom #I WANT HIM SO BAD HELP #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty #captain price #captain price smut #task force 141 #141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #könig

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dollwrites · 1 year ago

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— ⟡ dizzy drabbles disclaimer !!

all dizzy drabbles are written when i am extremely high ( or, dizzy ) and they don’t contain a trigger warnings list. if there’s no indication by the request, you can assume that the fic is nsfw + probably dark-leaning, if not blatantly dark. noncon, dub con, and other triggering content may be present, read with caution ( enjoy your experience <3 )

just imagine overstimulating Gepard. your hands are sticky with spit and the cum from his previous releases, but they never stop their mercilessly addicting caress, regardless of the way his cock twitches and jumps at your touch. you know he’s had more than he can handle, but those icy gems of his are glittering with potential tears, and you want so badly to see them breach and fall.

as one fist wraps around his girth nearest the head, the pad of your thumb prods at the sensitive, swollen tip and his slit weeps with release. he can no longer even control himself, spurts of warm, milky spunk frost the plump head of his cock. your other hand works just underneath, massaging his warm balls, as if you intend on working the essence out of him, coaxing orgasm after torturous orgasm.

other than his package being pulled through the gap in his open breeches, he’s still fully clothed— donned in sturdy armor. still, even with all of the extra protection, you could see his shoulders scrunch together, and hear the need in the heavy breaths he took. you can see your own reflection in his shiny breast plate, and it fogs up as you breathe on it, inches from his body, his warmth all around you and shielding you from the furiously chilly wind. “Can’t stop,” he rasps, and your eyes flicker upwards to catch a glimpse of his countenance. his cheeks, of course, have gone rosy, his lip swollen from just how hard he’s bitten it, and his typically clear and stoic eyes have gone glassy, lids drooping. “I… I can’t stop… cumming…”

he sounds almost in awe. he’s stupefied by the sight of you pumping his abused cock, and even more in shock that he was still getting off on it. beads of cum drip from your wrists as you stroke him with reckless abandon, spurred by his pathetic whisper to torture him further.

you beam with delight, a wide smile gracing your lips, and you lean forward to drag them against the coolness of his frostbitten armor. “Keep cumming for me, Gepard.” you beg, and the mewl of excitement in your voice has him rolling his neck against his shoulders and grunting, his hips bucking forward to give you what you want. “I want to milk you until your body refuses another ounce of pleasure.”

those sparkling eyes stare down at you in silent bemusement, biting down harder on his lip to stifle a flustered grunt when you squeeze his base and run that same pressure all the way up his length.

Gepard snorts through his nostrils, his fists clenching at his sides. you knew his instincts were screaming to stop you— his body in desperate need of an escape from all of the euphoria, but he didn’t want to. he was enjoying every second of your ruthlessness, keeping his glazed-over gaze on your devious simper, and praying that he would still have his sanity once you had taken all from him that he could possibly give you.

#doll’s dizzy drabblin’ ⟡#gepard #gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard smut #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr smut #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai x you #honkai smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail smut

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avocadotoasting · 10 months ago

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Temperance

Chubby!Fem!Reader | 1.5k | NSFW

Synopsis: Someone has had his eye on Reader for quite some time. Perhaps he seeks a reward for his patience.

(Characters inserted in a list below!)

CW: Use of Aphrodisiacs, Suggestive Dubcon, Suggested Yandere Themes

TEMPERANCE: Restraint or moderation.

Confined to your peripherals, he always waited. He wasn’t typically one to take a first strike. Haste wasn’t in his nature, no–he was a gentle beast hiding in plain sight, administering his own guerilla warfare on your unknowing resistance.

He was a saint, blessed and utterly overflowing with patience.

Often, far too often, you would conglomerate with your friends after a long day, enjoying social drinks and jovially laughing any cares away. You shined. You rivaled all bodies that shone in the sky–so radiant, ebullient, and full–how could he have not watched for all this time? All of nature encircles their existences around the luminaries bound around the earth, and you–who shone brightest–were at its center.

He too would enjoy a relaxing drink after his own long day, a ritual of sorts to begin his communion in basking in you from afar. To drink his drink was a promise; he held a promise that one day the taste of you would be dancing on his tongue, so saccharine-sweet and satisfying, hazily teetering him closer to a euphoria unknown. Once in a while, you’d make eye contact. And so generous you were, so generous you always were when you’d offer a smile every time.

Another drink. Another promise.

At times he would bring his own bric-a-brac to mind at his table so as to not alarm you. After all, with patience came subtlety, a vestibule inseparable to his primary house of virtues. And in this house he worshiped you for well over a year. He committed himself to his routine since he first laid eyes on you–gravity and destiny inescapable from a beauty that rivaled even the stars.

Today, he drank his final glass of promises. His back left pocket burned, seared, singed through the very fabric of his pants in urgency of his self-ordained inhibition to come to its end. In it was the crumbling of his house of patience. In it was a scorched earth tactic to raze all he was and begin anew with you emerging from its ashes. As a sign to swallow his final oath to himself and you, you made eye contact with him–and more of the same. A familiar smile, a familiar wave–and inside him, a familiar rush overwhelming every nerve in his being.

Your friends waved you off in the next moment, leaving you alone after some charming and laugh-filled goodbyes. How lucky they were to have you. How lucky he would be soon.

He raised himself from his table to return to the counter, ordering two drinks for the first time, and turned back to you to ensure his waiting had merited its value. You looked down to your phone, he could tell, mindlessly enjoying some time to decompress from the daily gossip. He smiled.

The bartender placed the two drinks on the counter, and he thanked them politely, as he always did–manners must coexist with patience, after all. Briefly, he stopped at his table, and he observed the drink that would be yours. One swift motion of gentle tampering ensured the fate of your drink. Of you.

Surely you’d never know. Surely you’d forgive him. A penitent man like him would repent under you for every day for the rest of your life, as he’d never do anything to wring you misery. He worshiped you, after all–this was just a vessel to finally show you.

Finally.

The word echoed in his mind with each step forward.

And finally, there was you.

“Still here, huh?”

His greeting was gentle, comfortable, he hoped to rival the gravity of the warmth you reflected. You looked up, blinking a few times before a wince of familiarity rang in your features. You smiled.

An invitation.

“Guess we both are.”

“Still have energy for a little more company? I always see you and–”

“Yeah, I do. And I see you too.”

Before the both of you could speak again, you both shyly laughed, and he sat in front of you, placing the drinks on the table. He clicked his tongue, mindfully placing your fate before you–a prayer on his tongue.

“Let me keep you company then,” he insisted, eyes glassy with his silent plea. You curled your lips playfully as you took your first sip of your drink.

“I suppose I’ll let you.”

His eyes followed the glass to your lips, and he finally felt himself smile with satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair.

That you will.

–

His fervor was relentless. With each snap of his hips he made new promises, new oaths to you, his beloved, so perfectly folded under him with generous and gorgeous flesh soft against his own–he promised to repent for his primal selfishness in the handling of your perfect body. But fuck–the way your lips so drunkenly slobbered around his thumb in your mouth, glassy, heated eyes rolled back into your head with mascara long since ruined since he began his debauchery, it was now that worship truly began, and he was a penitent man.

Your entire body was searing hot against his own with forced zeal he wrought to you from a bottle, but the results were undeniable. You had soaked his eager length again and again as he laid explosive love to you like he would die if he didn’t, and your body begged for more, just as he planned. He placed yet another soft bite on your ample breast swaying under him before pulling away to observe his work. You were covered. A living shrine, a temple breathing and writhing under him–covered by his devotion. And for the fourth time, you would be filled.

Another promise, he hoped, would take fruit.

“So fucking perfect,” he cooed sweetly, a poisonously sweet love possessing his body to burrowing his length into you to the hilt as he finished again, “So perfect around me, so fucking hot and wet–”

You, at the mercy of inorganic, potent lust, cooed back–incoherent and insatiable. He only nodded, removing his thumb to kiss you into his bed for yet another time. He pulled out and observed you. So painfully cockdrunk, so woefully lost to sin, exactly how he wanted you. Undone. Wet. Desperate. As he pulled out again, he hear you whine and buck and he gently shushed you with his finger, placing his greedy, erect cock on your hungry clit to rub it gently. He cooed again to soothe you. A gesture of his selfish love.

“I love you,” he sang, “Love you so, so so much–love of my life.”

He kept rubbing, his own pupils blown wide with his madness, leaning close to you. You didn’t care. You had long forsaken sight to chasing high after high since the first release, and your body was still on fire. He felt it. He felt your soft body arch against him as his stimulation wrought the beginning of another gorgeous, wet crescendo from between thighs so thick and delicious, and he grinned wide.

“Do you want to cum, my love?” he asked, slowing down his tormentous rubbing. You whined under him.

The answer was clear. But who was a man to deny the sweet sound of his own god begging for him?

“It hurts waiting, doesn’t it, Beauty?”

You nodded, whining louder.

He smiled, his temperance bearing fruit at last at its end after hours, months, and a year of waiting–his grin wicked, he leaned in to place a hypocritically chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll let you finish if you can make me a promise,” he cooed into your ear, placing a kiss just on the shell.

He felt you nod, pleading for any release of this heat.

“Do you promise to marry me? Marry me and be a good mommy to my babies?”

An unexpected pause under him–even in your altered state, it was a big ask, but he could still feel his leverage, and he rubbed hard again to take advantage. He waited long enough, and he was going to get was he waited for. No matter how hard he’d have to tempt you. Bait you.

You were right here.

“You’re already so full, baby–taking so much of me like you were meant to–”

You let out a pained gasp, edged so close to another high as he stopped again, and he rolled his hips to further torment you. You whimpered, low and pathetic, and all he could gauge after wave and wave of the edging was how hot your body seared in its heat. He knew eventually you had to give. And he knew in a game of waiting, he would win.

He will win.

“I know you need to,” he teased, his voice lowering, “you can feel how much it burns–”

“Please–”

Finally, a word from you, a white flag to beg for your reprieve.

“Yes–Yes–Please, just let me cum–please, it hurts, it burns, I need it, I need you–”

Happy to oblige, he finally inserted himself back inside of you, giving himself his own sense of relief and using his fingers to rub you to another delicious climax, all for him to savor. To savor again, and again, and again.

Surely you would forgive him. Sometime down the line.

He could wait.

----

Characters: Koushi Sugawara (Haikyuu!!), Thoma (Genshin Impact), Kento Nanami (Jujutsu Kaisen), Larry (Pokemon), Jumin Han (Mystic Messenger), Or imagine your own!

----

#chubby reader #plus size reader #toast.writes #toast.nsfw #yandere x reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #pokemon x reader #haikyuu x reader #genshin x reader #jjk x reader #mystic messenger x reader #toast.yandere #a/n a few muses were strongly in mind while writing this BAHAHAH i hope i can write more frequently!!!#hi everyone

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cc-tinslebee · 5 months ago

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Gojo and Nanami's class years adopting orphaned teens as a canon event (the playlist)

a playlist inspired by Gojo & Megumi, Nanami & Yuji, Geto & Nanako/Mimiko, and my own au of Shoko & Junpei (they are NOT beating the adoption allegations)

listen on spotify!

Harpy Hare - Yaelokre she can't keep them all safe / they will die and be afraid / mother, tell me so I say / Harpy Hare, where have you buried all your children?

Mama's Boy - Dominic Fike half of my heart is in your chest, I’m not a mama’s boy

Mama - My Chemical Romance mama, we’re meant for the flies / and right now, they’re building a coffin your size

Taking What's Not Yours - TV Girl you know where to find me / and I know where to look

Reflections - The Neighbourhood I see my reflection in your eyes (I sold my soul for you, I know you see it too)

Devil’s Advocate - The Neighbourhood I’m the devil’s advocate / you don’t know the half of it / good luck tryna manage it / if a god is a dog and a man is a fraud, then I’m a lost cause

I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski I know they’re losing and I’ll pay for my place by the ring / where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down

everything i wanted - Billie Eilish as long as I’m here, no one can hurt you / don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to

This Night Has Opened My Eyes - The Smiths a shoeless child on a swing / reminds you of your own again / she took away your troubles / oh, but then again she left pain

New Person, Same Mistakes - Tame Impala feel like a brand new person (but you’ll make the same old mistakes)

The Archer - Taylor Swift screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? / and who could stay? / you could stay

If We Have Each Other - Alec Benjamin if we have each other, then we’ll both be fine / I will be your mother, and I’ll hold your hand / you should know I’ll be there for you

Beautiful Boy - John Lennon the monster’s gone / he’s on the run and your daddy’s here

1985 - Bo Burnham my dad was happier than I am / if I could be anyone, dead or alive / I would wanna be my dad in 1985

The Future - Bo Burnham is it gonna end? (Yeah) / When? (Never) / It’s just another day of hanging with my daughter / and I’m living in the future

United in Grief - Kendrick Lamar I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime (tell them, tell them the truth)

Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood go ahead and cry, little boy / you know that your daddy did too / you know what your mama went through

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Ray there’s things I wanna talk about / but better not to give / but if you hold me without hurting me / you’ll be the first who ever did

Euphoria - Kendrick Lamar y’all think all my life is rap? / that’s hoe shit, I got a son to raise, but I can see you don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that

She Knows - J. Cole, Cults, Amber Coffman bad things happen to the people you love / and you find yourself praying up to heaven above / but honestly I’ve never had much sympathy / ‘cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier I got some colour back / she thinks so, too / I laugh like me again / she laughs like you

I Hear a Symphony - Cody Fry I used to hear a simple song / that was until you came along / now in its place is something new / I hear it when I look at you

Duvet - bôa I am hurting / I have lost it all

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cinnies-stories · 11 months ago

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alex morgan / the essence of what made winning so special.

2800 words or so. I got a little carried away :) enjoy!

The stadium erupted in cheers as the final whistle blew, declaring the San Diego Wave as NWSL shield winners. Confetti rained down, and elated teammates embraced each other, their own cheers almost drowning out the roar of the crowd. Amidst the jubilation, you caught Alex's eye, and a spark of shared victory ignited between you.

As the celebration continued in the locker room, teammates exchanged high-fives and hugs. You and Alex found yourselves side by side, sharing the euphoria of your triumph. Your shoulders brushed, and stolen glances lingered a fraction longer than necessary. A subtle electricity hummed between the two of you, heightening the celebratory atmosphere.

Post-match interviews and team photos followed, each moment drawing you and Alex closer. The trophy glittered between you, a symbol of your combined efforts.

Later, in the hotel, the team gathered for a post-victory banquet. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, and you couldn't shake the magnetic pull drawing you toward Alex. Seated next to each other, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by stolen touches—a hand on the shoulder, a brief brush of fingers.

The line between teammates and something more blurred in the warm glow of success.

As the night unfolded, you and Alex found yourselves in a quieter corner of the hotel. The air was thick with unspoken words, and your eyes met once again in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. Longing glances hinted at a connection beyond the confines of your soccer triumph.

With the hotel room door closing behind Alex, the tension reached its peak. The glow of victory illuminated your faces as you stood on the precipice of something uncharted. Conversation turned to shared laughter, and stolen glances evolved into purposeful touches.

The hotel room was bathed in a soft, comforting glow, creating a haven of tranquility. You and Alex sat on the edge of the bed, the residue of her victorious return to the soccer field lingering in the air. The room seemed to echo with the triumph of overcoming unexpected challenges.

Your eyes traced the lines of resilience etched on Alex's face, a testament to her journey from motherhood back to the soccer pitch - to the winning days.

"You're incredible, Alex. I can't believe you came back after everything," you whispered, your admiration evident in your voice.

Alex smiled, a mix of exhaustion and fulfillment in her eyes. "I never thought I'd be back here either. But the team, you – it's a part of me."

Your fingers intertwined, a silent acknowledgment of the shared triumphs and struggles. You could see the strength that emanated from Alex, not just as a player but as a mother who defied expectations.

"You're the strongest person I know," you said, voice filled with sincerity. "To balance motherhood and a soccer career, it's beyond inspiring."

Alex's gaze softened, the weight of her experiences reflected in her eyes. "I wanted to show Charlie that you can pursue your passions - no matter what."

You slowly leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead. "You're not just showing her, Alex. You're showing all of us. I'm honored to be on this journey with you."

Your embrace lingered, the warmth of shared triumph and unspoken understanding enveloping you both. Alex, moved by your words, met your gaze with a depth that mirrored the vulnerabilities of motherhood and the strength it brought.

In a moment of shared surrender, you cupped the forwards face, your thumb tracing a gentle path across her cheek. Your lips met immediately in a kiss that spoke of admiration, connection, and a shared journey that surpassed the boundaries of the soccer field.

It was a tender exchange, a bridge between friendship, motherhood, and the unexpected twists life had thrown your way.

As Alex pulled away, the room held an electric charge, a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny.

You, with a subtle smile, whispered, "I meant every word."

Alex nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and longing. "Thank you, Y/N. For understanding, for being here."

In the quiet aftermath of your shared moment, you found yourselves drawn to each other once again. This time, the kiss held a different resonance—a merging of your worlds, a celebration of strength, and an acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you were entering.

As you both lay side by side, the room cocooned you in a gentle embrace. The celebratory echoes of victory outside seemed distant, replaced by the quiet intimacy that filled the space between you and Alex. With whispered words of gratitude and unspoken promises.

The night became a chapter in your shared story, one marked by resilience, understanding, and the beauty of unexpected connections.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the hotel room. You stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, your hand instinctively reaching out to where Alex should have been. The disappointment hit you like a wave as reality settled in—the space beside you was empty.

A sinking feeling crept into your chest, and you sat up, glancing around the room. The realization that Alex was not there, that the person you had connected with so deeply the night before was absent, left you with a sense of abandonment.

The hurt lingered, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being left behind. The warmth of the shared night seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the ache of solitude. You couldn't fathom why Alex had retreated, leaving you with a void that was both confusing and painful.

Despite the disappointment, you couldn't deny the genuine joy you had experienced in this connection. The tender moments, stolen kisses, and shared vulnerability were etched in your memory. It was a bittersweet recollection—a night that had held promise and intimacy, yet now seemed tinged with the sorrow of unmet expectations.

With a heavy heart, you traced the outline of the empty space beside you, contemplating the unspoken questions that lingered in the wake of the night's intimacy. The disappointment weighed on you, but somewhere beneath it, the memory of the shared connection held a flicker of warmth—a reminder of a night that, despite its complexities, had been a moment of genuine connection and shared vulnerability.

The hotel's breakfast buffet was a bustling scene of teammates reliving the previous night's triumph. You scanned the room, your gaze settling on Alex at a distant table. Determination etched on your face, you approached, but a knot of apprehension tightened in your stomach as you noticed Alex avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to mask the growing frustration beneath a smile. "Last night was incredible, wasn't it?"

Unbeknownst to your teammates, you meant a lot more than just winning the shield with San Diego.

Alex, engrossed in picking at her breakfast, gave a brief nod without meeting your eyes. "Yeah, it was something."

You hesitated, sensing a shift in the air. "You okay?"

A forced smile played on Alex's lips.

"Yeah, just tired."

The conversation hung awkwardly between the two of you, the unspoken tension palpable. Your frustration simmered beneath the surface as you tried to breach the distance Alex had created.

"I was thinking we could grab lunch later, talk about the game, maybe even about what happened afterwards?" you suggested, an attempt at casual conversation masking a deeper desire to understand the sudden change.

Alex's response was a noncommittal shrug, and she focused intently on her plate. "Maybe."

Your frustration bubbled up, but you swallowed it down, trying to empathize with Alex's potential insecurities. "Alex, what's wrong? It feels like you're avoiding me."

Alex's gaze flickered, and a vulnerability flashed in her eyes. "It's nothing, really. I have my own things to figure out."

Frustration and confusion warred on your face as you searched for words.

A sigh followed, the forward's shoulders slumping with a mix of defeat and insecurity.

"Last night happened, but it doesn't change who I am."

Right, of course.

Alex Morgan, the soccer star.

Alex Morgan, straight.

Unable to meet your eyes, Alex pushed her chair back. "I need some time, Y/N. I'll see you around."

As you watched Alex retreat from the breakfast table, her emotions in disarray, Naomi, noticed the subtle change in atmosphere. Concern etched on her face, she approached you.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" the younger defender asked, her tone filled with genuine worry.

You mustered a small smile, trying to downplay the turmoil within. "Yeah, just some post-celebration exhaustion, you know?"

Nai studied your expression carefully, sensing there was more to the story. "Just remember, relationships—whether friendships or something more—they take time and understanding."

Once again, you thought about how the young defender was incredibly wise for her age and so much more mature than you were at that age.

Naomi placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Give her some time, Y/N. People have their own struggles. Maybe she needs a moment to figure things out."

You nodded, grateful for her comforting words. The breakfast scene continued around you two, teammates chatting and laughing, but you carried the weight of uncertainty and the unanswered questions about the connection that had unraveled overnight.

The hum of the plane's engines created a backdrop of distant melody as you settled into her seat, the anticipation of departure overshadowed by a quiet ache. You glanced towards the boarding passengers, heart pulsating with a mixture of hope and trepidation. The empty seat next to you yearned for the familiar warmth that Alex's presence once provided.

As the last boarding calls echoed through the cabin, your gaze lingered on the entrance, searching for the one person who had shared a night of triumph and intimacy, only to slip away in the light of day. Your stomach knotted with a bittersweet turmoil as each passing moment deepened the void beside you.

Then, there she was. Alex, a silhouette against the entrance, moved down the aisle, but instead of approaching you, she exchanged a smile with another teammate and took a seat elsewhere. The subtle rejection hung in the air like an unresolved chord, and your heart sank.

The empty seat, a poignant reminder of unspoken words and shattered connections, seemed to reverberate with the echoes of their shared moments. Your fingers traced the armrest, yearning for the touch that had once felt like a promise. The cabin lights above flickered, mirroring the flickering hope within your own chest.

The gentle hum of the plane transformed into a haunting melody, an anthem of solitude that accompanied your silent contemplation. The passing clouds outside mirrored the shifting emotions within you—a turbulent sky of uncertainty and longing.

As the plane taxied down the runway, you felt the weight of the unoccupied seat beside you, a physical manifestation of the emotional distance that had grown between you and Alex.

As the plane ascended into the sky, your eyes, like a compass seeking north, found Alex's across the aisle.

Alex's eyes, once a familiar harbor, now held a tumultuous sea of uncertainty. Lost within their depths were questions, hesitations, and the weight of uncharted territory. You sensed the struggle within, a silent plea for understanding that Alex's eyes conveyed more eloquently than words ever could.

In that fleeting moment of connection, you saw a vulnerability in Alex's gaze that mirrored the tremor in her own heart. Alex's hands, clasped tightly together, betrayed a subtle trembling—an outward manifestation of the inner turmoil she grappled with.

The symphony of the plane's engines became a muted backdrop to the silent conversation within your locked gaze. There was a yearning for a return to the warmth of shared moments, yet an unspoken understanding that something had shifted. The uncertainty in Alex's eyes was a puzzle that you longed to unravel, a puzzle whose missing pieces seemed to scatter with each passing second.

You wanted to bridge the distance, to hold Alex's trembling hands and reassure her that whatever complexities lay ahead, you could face them together.

But the plane, an intermediary in their shared journey, continued its ascent, and the distance between you and Alex remained insurmountable. Your eyes held onto each other for a moment longer, a silent acknowledgment of the uncharted territory that stretched before you, before Alex looked away, her gaze retreating like a ship disappearing on the horizon.

The tremor in Alex's hands, the uncertainty in her eyes—it left you with a lingering ache, a sense of longing for a connection that seemed to slip through her fingers like sand.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm glow through the living room window. Alex sat on the couch, cradling a tired Charlie in her arms. Her medal, a symbol of triumph and challenges overcome, stood proudly on the coffee table.

"Mom, why is winning so special?" Charlie asked, her innocent curiosity echoing in the quiet room.

Alex smiled, gazing into her daughter's eyes. "Well, sweetheart, it's not just about the trophy or the game. It's about the people—the teammates who become family, the ones who support you through thick and thin. They make winning something truly special."

Charlie pondered Alex's words, her eyes wide with wonder. "Like Y/N?"

The name hung in the air, and Alex felt a subtle shift within her. She looked down at Charlie, her heart warming at the mention of you.

"Yes, sweetheart, like Y/N," Alex replied, a softness in her voice.

As Charlie nestled against her, Alex's thoughts drifted to you. The realization settled in—the depth of the connection you shared went beyond the soccer field. You had been a pillar of support, a constant presence throughout the highs and lows of this remarkable journey.

A wave of longing washed over Alex as she thought about your unwavering encouragement, the stolen glances, and the warmth of shared triumphs. The realization hit her with a clarity she hadn't fully embraced before—you were not just a teammate; you were the essence of what made winning special.

As the evening sun bathed the room in a golden hue, Alex held Charlie close, the echoes of their conversation mingling with the subtle ache of missing someone who had become an integral part of the forward's journey. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the tangible proof of victory, Alex understood that winning was about more than the accolades; it was about the people who turned those moments into cherished memories. And in the delicate tapestry of her reflections, your presence stood out as a thread that she couldn't help but miss dearly.

In the quiet of her living room, with Charlie in bed, as the shadows danced with the fading daylight, Alex sat alone with the weight of regret settling like a heavy shroud. The echoes of your absence reverberated through the room, and a profound sadness gripped her heart.

She reached for her phone, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. The realization of how she had distanced herself from you, how she had let insecurity overshadow your connection, weighed heavily on her soul. With trembling hands, she began to type an apology, a heartfelt confession of the regret that consumed her.

Yet, as she opened her messages, a notification blinked on the screen. Your name illuminated the darkness, and a knot tightened in Alex's chest. Her eyes scanned the words, each one a sentence of separation, a declaration of departure.

"Alex, Utah wants me. I said yes."

The room seemed to close in, and the air grew heavy with the weight of realization. Alex's heart sank, the words on the screen a painful reminder of what she had unknowingly let slip away. The regret that had fueled her desire to reach out transformed into a profound despair as she read your decision to leave.

A silence enveloped Alex, broken only by the distant sounds of the world outside. The phone slipped from her hands, as if unable to bear the weight of the truth it carried.

Alex's gaze fixated on the empty space where your name had been moments ago. She felt a profound emptiness, a void that seemed insurmountable. In the quiet aftermath, the realization hit her—the most important person in her life had slipped away, leaving behind a sense of loss that felt irreversible.

Regret became a bitter taste on her lips, and she found herself yearning for a chance to undo the distance she had created. But the message on the screen stood as a testament to a choice made, a departure that left Alex alone in the echoes of what might have been.

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