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em1i2a3 · 11 days ago

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Stop The World Cause I Wanna Get Off With You

Pairing: The Sentry/Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob hook up from time to time, tonight wasn’t supposed to be one of those nights, until you run into Sentry in the kitchen.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut, Fluff, Reader has never encountered Sentry before (they’ve seen him in action during missions but they’ve never had a one on one), Bob is able to kind of suppress him (lets him out at times where he thinks nobody else is around…), Reader and Bob have a casual sexual relationship (and a close intimate friendship which comes with the territory)

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up everyone, keep safe), Oral Sex (fem! Receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, Soft Dom Sentry!, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Sentry kind of manhandles the reader a bit, Drool (a bit), Worshipping/Praise Kink, Squirting

Author's Note: Is this purely self-indulgent because I absolutely love writing Sentry and I was in the mood to write for him today. Anyways! I hope y’all enjoy! :))

Word Count: 8,711

You had been seriously considering walking across the hallway to interrupt Bob’s sleep. It would only take one knock, then you would go in, slip under his covers, press your face into the warm crook of his shoulder, and he would make you forget how lonely you had been feeling tonight.

But you didn’t.

Because even as you laid in your cold bed alone, you knew you had to ween yourself off of the comfort sex you were indulging in. It wasn’t like things weren’t good or anything–it was actually too good. Fantastic, even. Falling asleep in his arms with your fingers laced together, quietly talking and muttering sweet nothings to each other had become your second nature with one another, and it was a little too addictive.

Which was exactly the problem.

You and Bob had agreed that things would be casual. Simple. Easy. It wouldn’t be an every-night thing, and it also wouldn’t be something that would turn into habit or expectation. But for the past week it had been…Nonstop. All you had to do was look at him, or make a comment about something that could’ve been taken in a sexual manner, and suddenly you were tugging each other into dark corners or dragging yourselves towards each other's bedrooms.

Tonight though, you had told yourself to take a night off just to reset. To put a little distance back between the both of you. He had understood completely, and mentioned that it was okay to take a breather from one another, and that he too needed to have a bit of a break because things were becoming overwhelming for him–in a good way, he had emphasized.

Now, you found yourself wide awake at two in the morning.

You kept tossing and turning, kicking the blanket off you before pulling it back on. You rolled onto your side, then your back, then your stomach, then your other side again, and nothing had helped. You clung to your pillows, and tried to fold it just right so you could hold onto it like you would hold Bob–with one arm looped around his torso, with your face buried in his chest, and your fingers curling into the soft muscles of his back.

But your pillows couldn’t emulate his smell–that sweet honey and bergamot scent that lived on his skin and buried itself in his hair. Pillows also didn’t shift under your weight or murmur soft things that made your chest feel too full, nor did they kiss the top of your head and ask you if you were okay either.

You let out a frustrated sigh, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You decided to give your phone one last try, and opened a playlist of boring videos with slow voices and meaningless facts. You tried one on the patterns of clouds. Another about how jellyfish sleep. Something about farming. Yet somehow you were getting pulled into the interesting facts, so you closed the screen again, and sat up.

You threw the covers off with a sigh and swung your legs over the side of the bed, cold air sweeping over your skin as you slipped off the mattress. The hardwood caused shivers to shoot up your spine as you stood up completely. You grabbed your cotton shorts from the floor and shimmed them up your legs, before throwing the oversized t-shirt you had peeled off earlier in the night, adjusting it slightly before opening up your door and slipping out into the hallway.

Your eyes avoided Bob’s room. Just the shape of it–closed and quiet, with warm light flickering faintly under the seam of the door–would be enough to make your feet falter. If you let yourself even glance over at it, you’d immediately give in. You would start wondering if he was asleep. If he was facing the wall or curled on his side, half-listening for you like he sometimes mentioned he would do. You would start thinking about your simple plan of sneaking in and breaking the rule you had made for yourself that night.

So you kept your eyes forward, and regulated your breathing. You were going to get some water, then you were going to sit on the couch, and watch some television until you passed out. That was the plan, and you were going to stick to it.

You padded quickly down the hallway, letting the compound’s late-night stillness settle over you. Everything slowed down during this time, even the hum every appliance seemed softer, like the building itself was in hibernation mode. As you rounded the corner toward the kitchen, you heard the sink running, and you stilled for a moment.

The gentle rush of water was familiar now–part of the nighttime soundtrack you had grown used to. You assumed, easily, that it was Bucky. Other than you and Bob, he was often up at this hour too, half-dressed, elbows deep in leftovers or cleaning the dishes that he had used for his midnight feast.

That’s how Bucky had found out about your arrangement with Bob actually.

A couple of weeks ago you had slipped into the kitchen just after one in the morning, dressed almost identically to how you were now–shorts, bare legs, no bra, only instead you were wearing one of Bob’s t-shirts which had hung loose off your shoulder. You needed water and out of consideration you grabbed two glasses–one for you and one for the man who was warming your bed.

You assumed the kitchen would be empty, but instead you had walked in half-asleep and stumbled into Bucky, who was spooning peanut butter directly from the jar. The both of you froze instantly midway through your actions.

He looked at you up and down once, not in a creepy way–just observant. That razor-sharp, tactical read that told you he knew exactly what was going on. He didn’t say anything right away, he just leaned against the counter and raised an eyebrow, then after a beat.

“Midnight hydration run?” You had tried to stammer something out about being thirsty and needing extra water because you didn’t want to make two trips, but he just stared at you like he was burning a hole through your body until you sighed and gave in.

”I’m grabbing water for Bob and I…” You mumbled. He didn’t blink, he just dug his spoon back into the peanut butter jar.

”Didn’t think it was Walker, you’d rather be set on fire.” He commented, his voice dry. You rolled your eyes at the comment, “And Alexei could practically be your father…Which only leaves me,” Bucky added with a little smirk, “And I definitely didn’t fuck you…Becuase you probably wouldn’t be walking out here for water.” You choked on the comment.

”Jesus Christ Bucky.” But then he raised his hand.

“I’m just joking…But…I did figure everything out days ago that you and Bob were doing something together, and I knew it definitely wasn’t something PG…So…Just relax. I won’t tell anyone.”

Since then, he hadn’t brought it up once. There was no teasing or side comment. Just a quiet sort of understanding–a look he’d give you when he passed you both in the hallway or saw you trailing into the gym just behind Bob with a just been kissed look plastered on your face.

He got it. He didn’t judge. Which was probably why you weren’t startled when you heard the water running tonight. You figured it was him again, and you would have some friendly company to chat with.

But when you stepped into the kitchen you froze, because it wasn’t Bucky at the sink this time. It was Bob.

The amber kitchen lights casted long, drowsy shadows across the room, golden strips of illumination bending over countertops and reflecting in quiet glints off the faucet which shined on the ceiling. That light fell in delicate waves across the pale skin of his back–so stark against the deep navy of his sweatpants, and the gentle rise and fall of his back that bathed in steam and warmth from the sink. Each shift of his muscles–every slow, rhythmic movement of his shoulders and arms–caught in that glow like some kind of living marble, warm to the touch but sculpted like something divine.

You stood there, motionless for a moment, biting your lip.

The faint squelch of the sponge in his hand mingled with the drip of water from the edge of a rinsed bowl. He hadn’t noticed you yet. Or if he had, he made no sign of it.

You knew this back–had memorized the feel of it beneath your hands, had traced your nails down its planes and kissed along every scar and dip and ripple. You’d pressed your cheek to it when you couldn’t sleep, when the silence felt too heavy to be alone in. And tonight, even with all your good intentions crumbling at your feet, you couldn’t resist the gravitational pull he had on you.

You sighed softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“And I thought I could stay away for the night,” you murmured, voice low, more to yourself than to him.

You took a few quiet, careful steps forward, until the warmth of him reached you–radiating off his skin, curling into your lungs like smoke. You slid your arms around his waist from behind, gently laying your cheek between his shoulder blades for a breath, before pressing your lips there, giving the sensitive skin there a soft kiss. Then a little playful nibble, just over the muscle that always flexed when he laughed.

But this time, there was none of that. No low chuckle. No amused huff of breath. No warmth curling around your arms as he turned to pull you into his chest.

Instead, you felt him still completely. Tension coiled up in his back–not startled, not annoyed, but something different. He didn’t lean into you. He didn’t relax. He simply stood there, as if waiting for you to realize something.

Your hands splayed out over his stomach, pressing against the ticklish spot on his abdomen, right between the ridges of his abs, knowing that would certainly get a reaction from him, but still you got nothing from him. You frowned in confusion, not understanding what was happening, and what you did that made him go so stoic like this.

“…Bob?” You said aloud, voice filled with uncertainty and worry. There was a beat of silence, and then–

“So this is what you do to him to make him beam all the time?” The voice was deeper. Not in pitch, but in weight. It came from the same body, from the same chest, but it wasn’t Bob speaking. It was richer, smoother, velvet and lightning twisted into something calm and ancient. Your chest tightened.

You knew that voice. You’d heard it before–threaded between bursts of static on the comms, a golden tone like a cathedral bell ringing through fire. It always cut through everything else–gunfire, screaming, the chaos of battle. It was unmistakable. Commanding, absolute, and divine.

It was Sentry. A piece of Bob you rarely interacted with.

He didn’t speak much to you unless he needed to. He’d hover near the edge of the Quinjet, silent, half-glowing with restrained power. Sometimes you’d catch his eyes lingering on you, but he never spoke to you one-on-one. There was always something in the way–like Bob was still awake inside, still drawing him back, like he was scared that if you and the Sun God spoke you’d treat him differently.

But now it seemed like there was nothing between the both of you, he was actually addressing you and talking to you.

“Sentry?” You asked, with the name catching in your throat slightly. Not in fear, but in awe, because genuinely…You were a bit excited. He turned his head just enough for you to see the shimmer in his gaze–not from Bob’s oceanic blue irises, but from his molten gold ones. It was the kind of gaze that felt like it saw everything at once, and yet was focused entirely on you instead.

His shoulders rose and fell in a measured breath, and then, slowly, his hand reached and slid around your wrist. Damp and warm from the sink, his fingers were careful–not rough–but firm enough to still your breath.

“Are you always this soft with him?” The words hit you like a pressure change in the air. Heavy. Intimate. His thumb circled lightly over the delicate skin of your wrist, pressing into your fluttering pulse like he was testing a theory–measuring the tension, the want, the truth beneath your skin. The warm pads of his fingers contrasted sharply with the godlike weight of his presence. Even his touch felt calibrated, impossibly restrained, like he was holding himself back from something far greater, something devastating.

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat, then exhaled softly.

“Of course I am,” You replied quietly. “He’s my friend.”

A beat passed, and then Sentry let out a low laugh–not mocking, but deep and knowing, laced with something dangerously close to affection. “And your part-time lover, it seems.” Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth.

The way he said it shouldn’t have made your face flush with heat, but it did. You couldn’t even argue with it. Couldn’t pretend you hadn’t been clinging to Bob’s warmth, to his comfort, to the way he made you feel like you weren’t so alone in this place. Even when it wasn’t sexual, it was intimate. And it always bled into something deeper, whether you wanted it to or not.

Sentry turned to face you more fully now. He looked like Bob–his features carved in the same soft-boned, handsome mold you had memorized by now. But beneath the low kitchen lights, illuminated by that molten glow behind his eyes, it was like staring at the sun without sunglasses. Familiar, yes–but dangerous. Blinding and brilliant. He had the same jaw you liked to kiss down to his throat. The same slope of his nose you’d nuzzle against when the world felt too loud. The same lips you had kissed dozens of times, swollen and open beneath yours. But with Sentry in control, it was like watching those soft places turn incandescent. Magnified. Eternal.

His expression was calm, but not passive–curious, focused, full of care and knowing. Like he could see the story of your entire life, and was taking his time reading through the parts that had his name etched between the lines.

He let go of your wrist, only to raise his hand again–those damp knuckles brushing gently under your chin. The water clung to his skin in droplets that glittered like starlight, and the touch was featherlight, as though your skin were something precious.

“I can hear your thoughts…” He murmured, his voice like candle smoke and sunrise. His thumb nudged your chin upward, holding you in place as your lips parted instinctively. Your body was already betraying you–heart pounding, mouth dry, your breath catching in your throat. Your cheeks heated up under the words, and you looked away, embarrassed, but he followed your gaze like a moon following gravity.

“You’re excited to meet me,” He continued softly, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “You’ve been curious for a long time…Wondering what it would be like to talk to me.” You swallowed hard.

“But…” He added, tilting his head slightly. His lashes lowered, and he squinted a bit, like he was scanning something deep within you–like he was rifling through your heartbeat pattern in the moment, “You’re also…Slightly disappointed that Bob isn’t here, because he’s the one who can help you relax,” His gaze narrowed at the words that left his mouth, but it wasn’t like he was bothered by it. There was no jealousy or bitterness, he was just stating the truth, because he expected that answer.

“I wasn’t looking to sleep with him tonight…” You said quietly, almost defensively, though it came out softer than you intended. Sentry tilted his head at that, not skeptical, not cruel–just listening. Watching you carefully, like every word you spoke mattered. His damp knuckles left your chin only to trail higher, curling softly along the edge of your cheek, brushing your hair away from your skin. His touch was featherlight and warm, but beneath it was something steadier. A presence like gravity. An anchor pulling every fluttering thought down where he could read it.

“I know…” He murmured, thumb grazing the apple of your cheek now. He let out a soft breath, which fanned over your face. “But you were aching for him in your room. I could practically feel it from across the hallway.” Your stomach dropped at that. Not in shame, but in exposure. Like something cracked open that you weren’t ready to show yet–but he’d seen anyway.

You tried to avert your gaze, tried to turn your face away, but his hand followed. Gentle. Not forcing–just refusing to let you hide.

“I wasn’t–”

“You were,” He interrupted, and his voice was impossibly soft. Not scolding, not smug. Just…True. “But you chose to ignore it. Which only makes things worse, by the way.” Your lips parted, but nothing came out. There was no point in arguing. Because it wasn’t about being caught–it was about being understood. About how easily he could reach past the things you said and feel what was actually stirring beneath them. His lips curled into the faintest smirk–warm, golden, and just the slightest bit teasing–as his hand swept gently back across your cheek.

“If you’d let me…” He murmured, voice dipping like a secret, “…I can help you.” You tilted your head back slowly, caught between defiance and surrender, your lashes lowering as you looked up at him through the haze of them. Your body swayed closer without realizing it.

“I can take all that ache away very quickly,” He added, just above a whisper.

You sighed, long and unsteady. “Sentry…I don’t know…” His thumb grazed just beneath your eye, a gentle stroke that made your lashes flutter. You weren’t sure if he was trying to wipe something away or if he just needed to touch you again.

“Are you scared,” He asked softly, “That I won’t be as good? That I’ll be a different lover than Bob?” His voice was curious and searching, “What is worrying you?” You exhaled slowly, the air catching in your throat before you could speak.

“Nothing is worrying me” You replied, your voice a little cracked, “I just…I feel like I’ve become reliant on the sex. That’s all.” For a moment, Sentry just stared at you. Then he let out a quiet, amused laugh–warm and grounded, the sound of a sun god tucking laughter behind his teeth.

“Y/N,” He started with a small shake of his head, the roughness of his thumb trailing over your cheek again, “Just because you enjoy having sex with someone doesn’t mean you’re reliant on it.” You blinked at him, caught off guard by the directness in his tone–gentle, but unflinching. “So the both of you have been having sex to relax and sleep…So what? You’re human. He’s human. It brings you peace, doesn’t it?” You nodded a little, biting your lip.

”Yeah…It does…” His hands cradled your face now–thumbs brushing over the high points of your cheeks, anchoring you there, golden eyes drinking you in with something between adoration and hunger. His voice stayed low, like it was meant for this hour and this space and you alone.

“So…Let me do the same,” He murmured.

You stared up at him, breath caught. Your lips parted, the tip of your tongue flicking over them, nervous.

“…Should I know anything before I say yes?” You asked quietly. His brows drew together slightly, head tilting, confusion fluttering across his features for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitated, but only for a beat. “You’re…Technically a god,” You started, your voice half-playful, half-serious. “So is the sex going to be…Different?” For a second, he just blinked at you. Then, a low, amused laugh rumbled up from his chest. He dipped his head, shaking it slightly, his forehead brushing against yours with affectionate weight.

“I’m definitely more focused on you and your pleasure…” He said with a soft, wicked glint in his golden eyes. “But I don’t think it’ll be catastrophically different or anything.” He smirked lightly, nose brushing yours. “Even if it is…You could just tell me, and I’ll stop.” You nodded slowly, pulse skipping under his thumbs.

“Okay,” You whispered, breath shaky. “Let’s… give it a try.” His eyes scanned your face one last time, and something in them flickered–like a star flaring to life.

“You sure?” He asked.

You swallowed. “Yeah…I’m sure.” His lips found yours before your next breath could settle.

It wasn’t like kissing Bob. There was no hesitation, no slow build or soft slide of mouths testing pressure. This kiss was deeper from the start–anchored in certainty, in the heat of something that had long been simmering just below the surface.

Sentry kissed you like he had been waiting. Like the second you gave permission, his restraint unraveled with reverence instead of urgency. His mouth was warm and searching, coaxing yours open with languid pressure, his tongue brushing over yours in slow, molten strokes that made your knees buckle.

You gasped against him as his hands slid down your sides–firm, guiding, mapping the shape of you with awe. You felt one arm hook beneath your thighs, the other bracing your back. He lifted you like it was nothing. As if gravity didn’t apply to you anymore.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, legs parting to cradle his hips. You clung to him, breath stuttering in his mouth as he walked, slow and deliberate, down the quiet hallway toward his room. The compound was still in that late-night lull, unaware of the way your body was pressed tight to the god carrying you.

His mouth never left yours, even as he moved. Every step he took, every subtle shift of his muscles beneath your hands made it clear–he could do this forever. He could kiss you until the stars collapsed and still not be satisfied.

By the time you reached his door, your lips were swollen, parted, breath shared between you in shallow bursts. He bumped the door open with his foot and stepped inside without breaking stride. The room was dim–lit only by the faint glow leaking in from the hallway and the soft pulse of light emanating from him.

He kissed you again–harder this time–as he stepped forward and tossed you onto the bed with divine ease.

You landed with a gasp, elbows sinking into the plush blankets. The door clicked shut behind him with a finality that sent a pulse of heat through your chest. You were already breathless, already spread across the bed in nothing but your cotton shorts and oversized shirt, heart pounding like a war drum. He stood there for a moment, silhouetted in the golden glow leaking under the door, his bare chest rising and falling with quiet, restrained hunger.

Then he turned to you–slow, deliberate, devastating. And when his eyes met yours again, it was like being pinned beneath sunlight. You felt small under that gaze, but never powerless. No–desired. Desired in a way that felt mythic.

You were already crawling backward toward the pillows, instinct taking over. Every part of you was lit with anticipation. Every breath was shallower than the last. Sentry stalked toward you with that same predatory calm he always carried during missions–only now it was tangled with something softer. Worship. Admiration. A kind of overwhelming reverence that made your whole body ache before he even touched you again.

He climbed onto the bed with a slow, fluid movement, his muscles flexing as the mattress dipped beneath his weight. His smirk was devastating.

“You’re very pretty when you’re nervous,” He murmured, his eyes raking slowly over your body. A little laugh slipped from you–breathless and quiet.

”I’m not that nervous.” His smile deepened, eyes glowing with something both tender and ravenous.

“You are,” He said, dragging his palm slowly up the curve of your bare thigh, fingertips brushing just under the hem of your shirt, “But it’s beautiful. It makes you glow.” You opened your mouth to respond, but your breath caught when his hands slid higher. His palms were broad and warm as they swept up your sides, curling possessively around your waist. The heat of his skin burned through the fabric, and you felt yourself arch instinctively toward his touch, thighs parting ever so slightly.

“God, you’re soft,” He whispered. “You feel like something I shouldn’t be allowed to touch.” His thumbs dragged along your stomach, just beneath the swell of your breasts, grazing the sensitive skin there. You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart pounding under his hands.

“I want to see you,” He said, voice low. “Can I?” You nodded, lips parted, already dizzy from the tension coiling in your core. He eased your shirt up with reverent care, dragging it slowly over your ribs, then your chest. When he realized there was nothing underneath–no barrier between your bare breasts and his hungry gaze–his golden eyes flickered, like a pulse of starlight had jumped behind them.

”Fuck…” He breathed, almost to himself, “They’re beautiful.” You flushed at the compliment, but there was no time to respond–because he was already pulling the rest of the shirt over your head and tossing it aside with a single, fluid motion. The cool air kissed your skin, but the warmth of his stare replaced it instantly, scorching in its intensity.

He settled over you again, bare chest brushing your nipples as he leaned down and captured your mouth with his own. This kiss was deeper, filthier–his tongue sliding between your lips with a slow, deliberate roll. You moaned against him, your hands roaming over his bare back, dragging your nails across the broad expanse of muscle there, and he groaned in response–low and needy. When he pulled back, it was only to kiss along your jawline–open-mouthed, wet, slow. His lips trailed to your throat, his breath hot against your pulse.

“Your skin’s like silk,” He muttered between kisses. “You smell like sleep and heat and need.” He licked a stripe up your neck, then nipped lightly at the space beneath your ear, making you gasp, “Beg for me, Y/N…” His voice was soaked in lust, golden eyes burning as his mouth hovered just above your chest. The command sent a jolt down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat as he trailed slow, molten kisses across the swell of your breast, his stubble brushing your sensitive skin like a teasing promise. He didn’t touch you fully–just let his lips ghost across your skin, close enough to ignite sparks but never enough to satisfy.

“I want to hear it,” He instructed against your skin, voice low and thick with hunger. “Say you want me.” You whimpered, head tipping back as your thighs instinctively squeezed together. His tongue flicked out to taste the curve of your breast, just shy of your nipple, and you writhed.

“Sentry…Please–” You gasped, voice cracking.

“Mm. Better,” He hummed, dragging his tongue across the other side now, his hands gripping your thighs as he settled between them. “But not quite what I asked for.” His tongue circled the soft underside of your breast, lips wet and slow as he kissed up toward your nipple. He exhaled a hot breath against it, lips brushing but still not giving in.

“You want this mouth on you?” He whispered. “Say it.”

You bit your lip, trembling, barely holding yourself together. “I want your mouth on me. Please. Please, I want it.”

He groaned low–rewarded by your honesty–and finally wrapped his lips around your nipple. The contact was hot and soft and overwhelming–his tongue swirling slowly, then flicking lightly, then dragging in a slow suck that made your whole body jolt. Your back arched off the mattress as his hand came up to cup your other breast, kneading gently while his mouth worshipped you like you were the only thing in existence.

“Your skin tastes so fucking good,” He growled, “Sweet and warm…” You whimpered as he sucked harder, then moved to the other side, lavishing it with the same slow, indulgent care. His fingers pinched your other nipple lightly–just enough to make you gasp–and he growled again as your thighs shifted restlessly against his waist.

“Desperate already?”His lips glistened as he pulled back slightly, breath heavy, eyes molten gold and fixed on your face. A string of saliva still clung to your nipple, slick and obscene, catching the light like honey.

“You haven’t even felt my tongue where you really need it yet…” He murmured, voice drenched in reverence and hunger.

Your body tensed in anticipation, but you managed a breathless smile, your hand sliding through his soft brown hair. “You’ve basically given me a sneak peek,” You whispered, teasing, your voice shaking despite the attempt at confidence. His laugh was low and dangerous, rumbling in his chest like a distant thunderclap.

“Mmm,” He hummed, licking his lips slowly, dragging his tongue over the mess he’d made, like he wanted to savor it. “It’s not the same. I’ll warn you now…” His mouth pressed to your sternum–hot and wet. A trail of drool followed as he began to kiss down your body with maddening slowness. “You’re going to be losing your mind.” You gasped as his mouth moved over your ribs, his lips dragging, open and hungry, down the slope of your stomach. Each kiss was messier than the last–his drool warm and thick, sliding over your skin in a slow trail of devotion. His tongue flicked out, collecting the saliva and smearing it lower, until your abdomen was slick and shining.

“Fuck…Sentry,” You whispered, hips twitching under his mouth. He looked up at you from your stomach, his golden eyes glowing with wicked pleasure, lips soaked with spit.

“You like this?” he murmured, dragging his tongue across your lower belly again. “You like how messy I get for you?” Another hot string of saliva dripped from his mouth onto your navel. His breath fanned out across it before he kissed it slowly, deliberately.

You couldn’t even speak.

His hands slid down, gripping your hips with enough pressure to bruise, anchoring you as his mouth dipped lower, and lower–kissing the waistband of your shorts like it was a holy thing. His hot breath teased over the damp cotton as he hummed softly–half in amusement, half in awe. You shifted under him, hips rolling in a quiet plea, your thighs twitching slightly around his frame as if trying to guide him where you needed him most.

He chuckled against your skin–a low, warm sound that melted right into your belly.

“Mmm,” He purred, brushing his nose against the soft dip of your lower abdomen, just above the fabric, “You’re already so turned on…” His thumbs dragged lightly along your hips, circling where your skin met the edge of your shorts, his golden gaze lifting to meet yours.

“I can feel it,” He murmured, voice dripping like candle wax. “But I need you to be just a little patient.” His tone was indulgent, not scolding–like a god soothing a mortal too desperate for divinity. His nose brushed the soft line of your waistband, and then—without a word–he dipped his head lower and let his lips part. You barely had time to gasp before he opened his mouth and bit down gently on the elastic of your shorts.

The fabric stretched with a soft snap of resistance, catching on your hips as he pulled it back with a slow, teasing growl. His eyes stayed on you the whole time–half-lidded, molten gold, glowing like the promise of something you were never meant to survive. And then, with a deliberate tug of his head, he let the waistband slap gently back against your skin. You gasped and let out a startled little giggle. The smirk that spread across his spit-slick lips was absolutely devastating.

“I like that sound,” He murmured, voice thick with want. “Let’s see if I can get you to make a few more.” And then, without waiting, he dragged his teeth back to the waistband again–this time biting and tugging the shorts down inch by inch, growling low when he revealed the bare, damp heat of your center. He didn’t speak right away.

He just stared.

And you could feel him looking–not just at your body, but at every flicker of your arousal, every tremble of your thighs, every breath that stuttered out of your mouth. His golden eyes were heavy with hunger, reverence, and something worshipful that made you feel dizzy.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” He breathed, hot against your skin. “But fuck…I didn’t know you’d smell so fucking good.” You whined, thighs twitching as he kissed the inside of your leg—just above your knee—then again, higher this time, open-mouthed and wet. He licked, kissed, then bit softly, dragging his teeth just enough to leave a hint of sting before soothing it with his tongue. His grip on your thighs tightened.

“You’re already soaked…” He complimented, voice low and reverent. “You don’t even realize how sweet you smell right now, do you?” His hands slid under your thighs, lifting and adjusting you like you weighed nothing, like he was rearranging something sacred.

He pushed your legs higher with slow, controlled strength–your knees bending as your thighs were opened wider, his hands curling beneath them, forearms caging you in. Your back arched off the bed as your body reacted to the new angle, the cool air grazing your slick folds as you were fully exposed to him now.

“Look at you,” He murmured, his mouth inches from where you needed him most. “So pretty and wet, twitching like this for my mouth.”

Your breath caught, and your fingers curled into the blankets as he dragged his tongue slowly over his bottom lip–deliberate, filthy, hungry.

“Does he get on his knees for you like this?” He asked, kissing the inside of your thigh again. “Does Bob take his time, spread you open, and just…Breathe you in?”

You whimpered.

“Does he taste you until you cry?” Another kiss. Higher. Wetter.

“Sentry–please…”

“Mmm.” He exhaled a hot breath against your slick folds. “That’s better.”

And then his mouth was on you.

No warning. No teasing breath or tentative first lick. He dove in like he was starving–tongue dragging through your folds with a moan that vibrated into you. His hands gripped the underside of your thighs as he lifted your hips, adjusting you again, tilting you just so, and you felt yourself fold into him–held wide open, helpless under the weight of his mouth.

He groaned when he tasted you. The sound was obscene. Worshipful. Like he’d just discovered the meaning of life between your legs.

“Oh my god–” You gasped, one hand flying to his hair, the other clutching the sheets. His tongue licked up again, slow and thick and hot, and then flattened against your clit with reverent pressure. He circled it once. Twice. Then sucked it into his mouth with a messy, hungry groan.

You cried out. There was no point in staying quiet anymore.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he dragged you even closer, burying his face against you like he could crawl inside. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue licked lower again–down to your entrance–and you felt the flat, firm strokes of him fucking you with his tongue now. Hot, wet, unrelenting.

“Fuck–you taste like heaven,” He growled into you, voice thick with arousal. “Can’t believe he gets this all the time…No wonder he’s always thinking about it.” You gasped, bucking your hips, and he chuckled darkly against you before flattening his tongue again, dragging it up in one long, slow stroke that made your entire body convulse.

And then–he added his fingers.

One thick digit slid into you with practiced care, the pad curling upward instantly as his tongue circled your clit again. You moaned, high and broken, and he shushed you gently, pressing his lips against your mound like a kiss.

“There you go, that’s it…” He whispered. “Let me open you up.”

A second finger joined the first–stretching you perfectly, filling you slow and deep as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked, licked, and moaned into you like you were a divine offering, like he was absolutely wasted on you. His fingers curled with precision, stroking that spot inside you that made your vision white out in flashes. His tongue never let up, flicking fast and relentless now.

Your body twisted against the sheets, your thighs trembling, your voice cracking on every breath as your orgasm started to build–hard and fast and hot.

“Sentry…Fuck, I’m–!”

“Good,” He growled, sucking harder. “Cum on my face Y/N…” You came with a cry that ripped through you–head tipping back, thighs clamping around his head as he groaned into you, licking and fucking you through every wave of it like he was addicted. You felt it gush out of you, dripping down your thighs and his wrists and his chin, and he licked it all up–eager, messy, praising every shudder of your body like it was a gift from above. When the last tremor left you, he pulled back just enough to look up at you–face slick with your release, lips wet, golden eyes glowing like firelight through smoke.

“I told you,” He said softly, with a devastating smile. “You’d lose your mind.” And then he kissed the inside of your thigh again–gentle this time, more satisfied. As if he were thanking you for letting him worship you.

Then he moved–fluid and graceful as molten light, muscles rolling beneath his glowing skin as he crawled back up your body. Every inch of him brushed over you–bare chest gliding along your slick belly, hips grazing yours, arms braced beside your head as his face hovered just above yours. His breath was still hot from the work of his mouth, and his lips–shiny, wet, and flush with your release–ghosted over yours before he kissed you.

It was soft. Barely a touch. Just the press of his mouth to yours like a vow sealed in secret.

Then, a sigh: “I think it’s going to be really hard to get rid of me now that I’ve had a taste…” he murmured, voice rough and low, golden eyes half-lidded as his forehead tipped forward to rest against yours. “You’re absolutely delicious.”

Your breath caught, and a quiet laugh escaped–nervous, a little dazed, but warm. “Then don’t go anywhere,” You whispered, kissing him again, slower this time, as your fingers slid through his hair and down the back of his neck. “Stay. I want you inside me…” That earned you a growl. Low and sinful, a vibration that rumbled in his chest as he kissed you harder–messy, claiming, the kind of kiss that made you forget where the bed ended and he began.

“Fuck,” He breathed into your mouth, hand sliding down your waist to grip your thigh again, his other arm wrapping under your back. “You want me inside you, just like that? Say it again…”

You moaned as he shifted your hips–rolling you with divine ease, one arm lifting your lower back, the other guiding your thighs to open wider. The movement was firm, deliberate, a little rough in the way that made your heart stutter.

“I want you inside me,” You repeated, lips brushing his. “Please, Sentry…”

His golden gaze blazed. He kissed you again–rougher now, a low growl curling from his throat as he pulled back just enough to kneel between your thighs.

One hand slid to the waistband of his sweatpants, and with a swift push, he shoved them down. The fabric caught slightly on his thighs, but he didn’t pause–he just stood briefly, stepping out of both the pants and his boxers in a smooth, practiced motion before kneeling over you once more.

Your eyes dropped automatically.

He was already hard–thick, flushed, curved just slightly toward his stomach, the tip slick with precum.

It was familiar. The curve. The size. The way he twitched just slightly at the attention. But it felt like seeing it for the first time all over again–like every prior memory was just a diluted echo compared to the sight of him now. There was nothing casual or easy about this moment. No after-mission haze or late-night impulse driving it. Just him. Raw and bare and kneeling for you.

He smiled–slow and devastating, like sunrise bleeding over your skin–and his palm smoothed over your thigh before he leaned in, closer, gaze drinking in your expression like it was scripture.

“How do you want me?” He asked, voice thick with promise. His hand slid up, warm and steady, settling over your belly, then cupping your breast like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever touched. “I’ll do anything you ask, Y/N. Just tell me.” Your breath caught. Your skin prickled. You swallowed hard and cupped his face gently, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone, dizzy from how beautiful he looked like this–lit from within, burning just for you.

“Slow,” You whispered. “Close. I want to feel all of you.”

His golden eyes darkened, and he nodded once–like he’d been waiting to be told exactly that.

“You’ll feel every inch of me,” he murmured, dragging his mouth down your neck in a slow, reverent kiss, “and I won’t stop until you’re shaking.”

You whimpered as he guided your thighs wider, hips settling between them with that godlike strength, and then he reached down—gripping himself, pumping once, twice, slow and firm, guiding the thick head of his cock to your entrance. He paused there, rubbing himself through your slick folds, teasing your clit with the swollen tip, watching the way your body arched toward him like a prayer.

“Look at you,” He whispered, voice shaking now with restraint. “So warm… so wet already… you’re going to take me so fucking well, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathed. “Please… I want it.”

His hand came to rest beside your head, and he leaned over you again, kissing your mouth with molten heat as he finally began to press in–slow, slow, achingly slow. The stretch hit you in waves–burning, perfect, overwhelming–and he groaned into your mouth as your heat wrapped around him.

“F-Fuck,” He breathed, his voice fracturing. “You feel like heaven. I’ve never–God, Y/N–” He didn’t finish. Couldn’t.

Because your hands were clawing down his back, and your legs were locking around his waist, and your mouth was parting against his in a gasp that shattered into moans when he bottomed out inside you.

You were full. So full. Stretched to the edge of breaking and held together only by the weight of him, the sound of his breathing, and the reverence in his trembling voice as he buried his face in your neck and whispered:

“You were made for me.”

He just breathed against your neck, chest trembling with restraint, like he couldn’t bear to pull back now that he was inside you. His cock pulsed deep in your heat, stretching you wide, pressed tight to the very core of you. And he stayed there–buried to the hilt, his hands braced beside your head, body vibrating with the weight of it all.

You clung to him, arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. You could feel every inch of him–how hard he was, how thick, how perfectly he filled you. Every twitch of him inside you made your thighs tremble.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” He whispered, voice low and trembling. “Tell me if I need to stop. Tell me, and I will. Right now.”

“You’re not hurting me,” You said back, mouth brushing his temple. “I need you to move. Please.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for centuries.

Then he pulled out just slightly–slow, careful–and eased back in, dragging the thick length of his cock along your walls like he was memorizing the shape of your body from the inside.

“Oh fuck,” You gasped. He began to move–slow, dragging thrusts that pulled him nearly all the way out before he sank back in, groaning each time he filled you again. His hips rolled with divine pressure, not frantic or fast, but heavy and claiming, grinding against your clit with every deep push. The bed rocked gently beneath you.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” He breathed. “It’s like your body never wants to let go.”

“Maybe I don’t,” You whispered, forehead pressed to his. “Maybe I want you to stay inside me forever.”

His groan turned desperate. His hand slid under your thigh, hooking it higher around his hip, pulling you open for him even more. The change in angle made you cry out as he hit a new spot—deep, hot, overwhelming.

“Fuck,” He growled. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s your body taking me deeper. So fuckin’ good for me.”

You nodded, voice catching on another moan as your hands gripped his shoulders.

“Look at me,” He said, and when your eyes met his, you nearly gasped. They were glowing–bright, molten, golden with fire. “You’re mine right now. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” You choked out, voice broken and full. He kissed you–hard, open-mouthed, desperate–and began to thrust a little faster now. Still slow, still deep, but harder. More intentional. His hips drove into you with steady rhythm, the drag of his cock inside you friction-hot and all-consuming.

Every inch of him was worship. Every stroke a vow.

You could feel yourself getting close–trembling, twitching around him, thighs clenching. He felt it too.

“That’s it,” He groaned, licking into your mouth. “Cum for me. Cum with me still inside you. Let me feel it.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, circling it fast and filthy as his cock slammed into you again.

The orgasm ripped through you like sunlight bursting through glass–hot, blinding, your whole body arching into his as your cunt spasmed around him. You sobbed into his shoulder, and he fucked you through it–murmuring praise, filthy and sacred all at once.

“Look how perfect you are,” He breathed. “Cumming all over me…Still taking every inch.”

You were still trembling when you felt him lose control–his rhythm stuttering, his breath catching, hips driving deep one final time as he came inside you with a groan torn from somewhere deep in his chest.

His weight hovered over you, both of you breathless and slick, the air thick with the scent of sex and heat. He was still buried inside you, twitching slightly, chest rising and falling against yours as the last of his orgasm rippled through him in low, broken groans.

“Fuck…” He rasped, voice molten and broken, “That was so good…”

You whimpered softly, your nails grazing the bare skin of his back. His weight pressed you into the mattress just enough to ground you, the fullness of him still inside sending aftershocks rippling through your core.

But then–he moved. Not out of you at first. Just a shift of his hand. A kiss to your cheek. A glance down at your flushed, tear-glossed face.

And then he said it, low and rough:

“But I just want to make you finish one more time…”

Your breath caught. “Sentry–”

He began to pull out slowly, his cock dragging against your oversensitive walls, and you gasped–a choked sound, hips twitching under him.

“I know, baby,” He murmured, voice soft but laced with hunger. “I know you’re sensitive. But I need to feel you come undone again. I need to feel that perfect little pussy squeeze my fingers one more time.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was sliding down your body again–this time with something wild in his eyes, a golden flicker like a sunflare behind his lashes. His hand gripped the backs of your thighs, pushing them open with unrelenting strength, folding you open again like pages in a sacred book.

You moaned as the cool air hit your soaked core, his cum leaking from you, trailing down onto the sheets, and he groaned at the sight of it.

“Fuck…Look at this mess,” He commented, dragging his fingers through the slick heat between your legs. “You took me so well…But you’re not finished. Not yet.”

And then his fingers plunged into you again.

Not slow this time.

Not careful.

His forearm flexed as he pumped his fingers into you with devastating precision–three now, thick and fast, his palm grinding against your clit with each wet, relentless thrust. The sound of it was obscene–slick and slapping, your body sucking him back in with every stroke.

You cried out, your thighs clamping around his arm. “Sentry–fuck–too much–”

“Shhh,” He growled, kissing your inner thigh, not slowing. “Yes, you can. You’re gonna give it to me again. I can feel how close you already are.”

You clawed at the sheets, hips bucking off the mattress, your breath stuttering into broken moans. Every thrust of his hand hit that perfect spot–his knuckles grazing your walls, his fingers curling up with divine intention.

Your legs shook violently.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent sob.

You were already there–right there–your core fluttering and clenching around his wrist now, the pressure so intense it bordered on unbearable.

“That’s it,” he gritted, his voice pure sunfire, dripping with praise and possession. “Clench for me. Just like that. Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight–milking my fingers like you never want to stop.”

Your back arched violently.

“Sentry!” You wailed. “I’m gonna–”

“Do it.” His free hand gripped your hip, holding you down as your orgasm tore through you–harder than before, sharper, your entire body convulsing under him. You screamed into the crook of your arm, thighs shaking, your slick gushing around his wrist as he kept fucking you through it, watching with reverent awe as you completely fell apart.

Your hips bucked wildly. Your vision blurred.

And he just watched, glowing like a star reborn, sweat glistening on his chest, his fingers still working you until you were sobbing-wrung out and trembling and twitching under the weight of him.

Only then did he slow, easing his fingers from your soaked, fluttering walls. He brought them to his mouth again, licking them clean, eyes half-lidded with something almost too tender to name.

He crawled back up, slipping beside you, arms already wrapping around your limp, shaking frame.

You couldn’t speak at first–just clung to him, your breath stuttering into his neck, your body still spasming gently with the last shocks of pleasure.

Then–quietly, hoarsely–you managed it:

“…I–I think I’m going to have the best sleep of my life now…”

A dazed little laugh fell from your lips, your hand weakly pressing against his chest.

“Because my brain…Is shot.” Sentry laughed softly, wrapping the blanket around your hips, kissing your temple with quiet reverence.

“Good,” He whispered, golden eyes dimming to a warm, molten glow. “Then I’ve done my job.”

1K notes · View notes

joonjuul · 5 months ago

Text

play thing. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jk x sleepy!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: desperate!jk, softdom!jk, sleepy!reader, sub!reader, light ddlg themes (if u squint), implied consent, somnophilia, fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), light overstimulation (f receiving), pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it up), pwp lol

a/n: saw another author write something similar to this agessss ago and i’ve been obsessed ever since

╋━

it was one of those nights. one of those nights where your phone mysteriously shut off early, where your eyes felt heavier than normal, where the sweet hum of your blankets and pillows called your name gently, even if it was only 10pm.

since you started dating jungkook, you always felt so busy. it was almost like you were carrying the stress of both his job, and your own, which only meant one thing — you were the most exhausted woman on the planet, and tonight was no exception.

you use your last bit of energy to plug your phone in on the nightstand beside you, turning over and examining the empty side of your shared bed. another wonderful addition to your new life, was still having to sleep alone, despite the fact that you lived with your boyfriend. monday through friday, you always found your routine to be the same, get home from work, make dinner for you and your boyfriend, and head up to your shared room, scrolling until your eyes began to shut before rolling over, jungkook always wandering to his at home studio some time after dinner.

you loved how passionate he was about his work, but it didn’t help the fact that you missed him desperately — his touch, his sweet smile, the small freckle under his lip, the way his hands always instinctively found your waist even within the pitch black night of your room.

he was wonderful, and you adored him, but you couldn’t ignore the loom of desperation that blossomed between your legs as you imagined how he took care of you on the weekends, when his mind wasn’t so preoccupied. his fingers, so skillful and rough, almost as if they memorized your body like a map — every spot that made you writhe beneath him and every crevice of your skin that made your toes curl.

you felt a dampness arise in your panties as your mind wandered, but your tiredness quickly got the best of you, as you eased into a deep sleep — images of your muscular boyfriend hovering above you, his ink splattered arms on either side of your head as he drove into you mercilessly lulling you to sleep.

jungkook however, was only a couple hours into what would be a very sleepless night.

with their comeback approaching, he had been much busier than usual — always winding up in his at home studio after dinner, headphones sat lightly on his head as he’d meticulously arrange every beat and vocal he had prepared during his day at work. he didn’t enjoy it, he’d much rather be with you down the hall, feeling the warmth of your body against his as you both drifted off, but it had become much like a routine, and he was never one to break a good habit, not when they were so close to their scheduled comeback date.

tonight though, was a little different. with every click of a button, every slide of a mouse across the desk, his mind only led back to one thing — you. with his jam packed schedule he had barely left any time to spend with you, and not just that, but also time for your sex life. jungkook was not the type of man to have sex once a week. his body craved you feverishly almost every minute of the day. he went all day craving your touch, and when he finally arrived home and was able to bask in your never ending skin, he felt like all his day’s work was complete. but it would never be enough to satisfy him, and today was one of those days.

he feels his mind begin to wander as he imagines you in bed. he wonders whether or not you’ve fallen asleep yet, which pair of panties you’re wearing, imagining you sprawled out on your bed, shorts riding meticulously high up your ass. and he feels the pressure in his pants begin to worsen.

his eyes glance at the clock. 12:06 am.

he had done enough work today, right? there was always tomorrow, he thought to himself as he took his headphones off, ignoring the tension in his boxers as he stood up from his chair, desperately crossing his fingers that you’re still awake, still conscious so he can fall between your legs and take you like he so hopelessly needs.

his feet carry him to your shared room quickly, his hands wrapping around the doorknob as his eyes quickly fall on your sated body. one leg on either side of the covers as your ass pokes out slightly — barely leaving any room for imagination in one of your cutest pairs of undies.

he lets out a low groan at the sight, his body wandering aimlessly into the room as he gets closer to you. he notices your quiet snores, the way your hair messily spreads across the pillow case, and then he notices something else — a small wet patch outlined in your panties.

jungkook feels his breath hitch in his throat, his eyes zeroing in immediately as he walks closer to the bed, falling to his knees on the covers behind you, but never hard enough to stir you from your sleep.

he gulps, how could you look so perfect ? and why were you so wet ?

his mind swarms with thoughts, his body filled with heat as he wonders if you had touched yourself while he was in the next room, if you craved touch but couldn’t settle for anything less than him. he feels a weight hang on his shoulders, his cock throbbing unbearably in his pants as he feels an overwhelming need for you take over.

without a second thought, his hands fall to the waistband of his sweatpants, quickly pulling them down along with his boxers to reveal his throbbing hard on.

he pumps himself for a moment or two. where does he start? you were sprawled out perfectly on your bed, your cunt obviously ready for him, even if you didn’t know he was there. he halts his movements, still hearing the gentle hum of your snores in the background, and he positions himself between your legs in response, bringing a hand to your panties to pull them aside.

he drags the head of his cock over your folds, relishing in your wetness as he pauses, waiting to feel you stir, hear a whine of concern, but there’s nothing.

he takes your silence as his queue and slowly begins to bury himself into your warmth, your walls stretching to accommodate his size with ease as your body unknowingly lets him in. his breath seizes as he feels your cunt squeeze him deliciously, stifled moans begging to be released as he bottoms out inside you, his head hung low as he tries to catch his breath.

you were so wet, so perfect, and all for him. even in sleep you stayed still and obedient for him, and it was driving him insane.

jungkook begins a tireless pace on your cunt, his thrusts slow and gentle as he feels you tighten around him with every pump of his delicious cock.

he carefully drags the comforter over your back, protecting you from the cold of the night, and hopefully keeping you asleep long enough for him to empty his load inside you. but you were more than perfect, you were irreplaceable. your body subconsciously relaxing deeper as you feel the added warmth to your back, completely unaware of your boyfriend falling apart above you.

with every thrust of his hips he can feel his balls tighten, his body aching for release as his movements begin to quicken, so much so, that he forgets you’re asleep.

mindless praises falling from his lips as he worships you subconsciously, his mind only focused on one thing — you.

“so perfect, baby. my perfect girl.” he lowers himself closer to your body, a hand on either side of your head as his tattooed hand grips the comforter tighter, a coil in his stomach beginning to build as he feels himself drawing closer and closer to the edge.

your dream stutters momentarily, pictures of you and jungkook on a romantic date quickly being brushed away as your mind returns to reality. the first thing you notice isn’t his heavy breathing beside your ear, nor his length stretching your walls deliciously, but the feeling of a tightness within your abdomen.

“mmm.” you moan gently as your body stirs, your eyes fluttering open as they’re consumed with darkness, only a small piece of your boyfriend’s tattooed arm falling in your vision.

“shhh it’s okay, baby.” his sweet voice hums as you finally feel him between your legs, his cock moving feverishly inside you, brushing against your walls perfectly as you let out a loud moan, your wetness only increasing as you grip the sheets beside you.

“kook? f-fuck.”

“shhh, don’t try to talk baby. it’s just me. needed to feel you. go back to bed, sweetheart.” his voice is soft and soothing but the tension in your stomach screams otherwise, your body desperate for release.

he quickly notices your movements, your whines, the way your bum pokes out slightly, begging for more, and he carefully brings a hand down beneath you to your throbbing clit in response.

“there there. this what you wanted sweetheart?” you moan at his words, your legs beginning to shake as you nod your head quickly, the feeling of his fingers circling your clit were almost enough to send you over the edge. but his pace never slows, if anything, his hips quicken as he drives into you mercilessly, thankful that he doesn’t have to hold back now that you’re fully conscious.

“that’s it, good girl.” his words spur you on as he watches you begin to come undone, him easily knowing every spot in your body that gets you going the most. his fingers slowly circle around your clit, your legs shaking slightly as you moan out, loving every movement of his cock inside you. your knuckles are white from gripping at the sheets, your head spinning as you feel like you’re still half unconscious, but jungkook can only think about one thing — the pressure in his balls signaling his closeness.

“cum with me angel, wanna feel you.” his voice is shaky but his hips stay consistent, each thrust building the intensity in your stomach as you feel the coil begin to grow. you were so close, just teetering on the edge of your release, and you knew he was too as his fingers that were once rubbing your clit with calculated movements, were now messy and vigorous. his cock begins to twitch as he feels your walls tense around him as he thrusts deeper, hitting your g-spot so perfectly that it sends you into your climax suddenly.

“f-fuck.” he stutters as he feels you tighten, your moans spiraling through his head as he takes one final plunge inside of you, burying his cum deep within your stomach as he bottoms out.

your breath is heavy as you feel yourself return to reality, the warmth of your boyfriend’s chest against your back bringing you a sense of comfort. god had you missed his touch.

he looks down at his now softening cock as he pulls it out of you, watching a small stream of his juices trickle out of your pulsing hole, collecting it with his fingers before dipping it back inside of you, the sensation making you gasp.

“gotta clean you up, baby.” he rasps, his voice now deeper than normal, whether due to tiredness or the sex you weren’t sure, all you could focus on was his fingers dipping in and out of you gently, moving in circles as his pads brush against your walls. you’re unable to control the low moan that leaves your lips at the feeling.

“sore?” his movements cease as he leans forward to gauge your reaction. but you shake your head in response.

“feels good.” your voice shakes as you begin to move your hips in response to his gentle assault on your cunt, your body writhing against the sheets as it begs for more.

jungkook smirks as he watches how desperate you are, even in such a fucked out state. he must’ve made you wait much longer than he intended.

“sweet girl.” he brings his free hand up to your head as he begins to stroke it calmly, his fingers still moving within you so carefully that you’re not sure whether he’s even trying to turn you on.

his hand falls down to your back, slipping under your shirt as he rubs circles on your hot skin, his hands perfectly calloused from lifting weights that they almost feel rough against you, and it only amplifies everything you’re feeling.

“kook, please.” you whimper, your tone much softer than you’d intended. his touch was driving you crazy, everything about him, you must’ve been ovulating with the way you felt everything so intensely.

“hmm? what is it, baby? what does my sweet girl want?” he hums, his fingers curling inside of you as he watches you begin to squirm, the crooked smile never leaving his face. he knew exactly what he was doing.

you groan, completely burnt out from his teasing. “more kook.”

he quirks a brow, his fingers curling again as he brings his free hand down to your bum, massaging your cheeks gently.

“more? what more could you want? i’m just cleaning you up, baby.”

you groan again, now fully irritated as you kick your legs slightly in annoyance, turning your head over your shoulder to see the wicked grin plastered to his lips.

“pleaseeeee.” you whine, rutting your hips in an attempt to feel more of him. his grip on your ass tightens but his fingers continue to move gently inside of you.

“behave, sweetheart. just relax, i’m right here. you know i always take care of you, right?” his pace begins to quicken but never lose their gentle feel, still carefully dragging every inch of your walls, and curling up into your g-spot perfectly.

“f-fuck, kook.” you moan out, whether from the gentle overstimulation of his fingers inside you, or the way he carefully caressed your back, everything was too much yet not enough at the same time. you were obsessed with him, with the way he made you feel — how he was so rough yet touched you so sweetly, how he dragged the pads of his fingers against your walls, the hushed praises falling from his lips… he was simply too much to bare.

“there you go, that’s my girl.” he watches intently as you move your hips in synchronization with him, your body melting into his every touch as what was meant to be him riding you off your high, turned into something entirely different.

he leans down into your ear, bringing his hand that was on your back up to your neck as he carefully pulls your hair aside, peppering kisses along your damp skin, only building the intensity within you.

his lips stall as he licks a stripe up your neck, stopping by your ear to pull it into his teeth with ease, only nibbling it for a second before releasing it and watching as you fall apart beneath him.

“ughhh” you bury your face into your pillow, completely overwhelmed with pleasure as he continues his ministrations on your already tired cunt.

“words, baby.”

you groan at his response, unsure of how to put your emotions into words, but he’s unsatisfied with your reply — quickly bringing his once gentle hand on your hair back down to your waist and flipping you over with ease, plunging his fingers back into you once your eyes have met one another.

“speak up.” he demands, his voice now filled with lust.

you moan out at the sudden harshness of his movements, cowering under his intense gaze.

“just - ahh - just want you kook.”

he flashes a crooked smile at you, leaning back down into the bareness of your neck.

“you have me, baby. i’m all yours.” his voice a hushed, seductive whisper as he begins assault your neck, his fingers never ceasing.

the feeling is almost unbearable, the coil in your stomach quickly returning with every perfect curl of his fingers and lap of his tongue against your hot skin.

you were a mess — writhing, legs shaking, hands clawing at any part of his body you could use to stabilize yourself, but it was not nearly enough to bring you off the edge that was only drawing nearer.

“close.” you whimper, your knees threatening to clamp shut on his hand until he quickly pins them down, holding you in place and directing his gaze onto your sopping cunt. he wanted to see it all. not just the way you tightened around him, or the way you gushed all the way down his knuckles, but the way you pushed out his seed in the process. he wanted to see it all.

“cum, baby. such a perfect girl, all for me. let me see you cum.” and with a final curl of his fingers, you were sent soaring back over your high. even if it wasn’t as strong as the first, it was just as passionate, if not more. the way his eyes were fixed on your center drove you crazy, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect lips, he was pure sex.

your eyes fluttered shut, your body unable to process what had happened, but you could faintly feel him removing his fingers and placing gentle kisses on your legs, your skin covered in goosebumps for as far as the eye could see.

“good girl, you did such a good job, angel.” you hear his gentle praises as he begins to clean you up properly, admiring the mess you made of your shared bed.

you wish you could respond, you with you could thank him, but your mind had already drifted off into a slow, deliberate sleep — one deeper than you could’ve ever imagined you’d be receiving tonight.

if you thought you were exhausted before, it was nothing compared to the state of you now.

#bts smut #bts #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook

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mandoalorian · 3 months ago

Text

sweet like plums [bucky barnes x reader]

Pairing: Civil War!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Synopsis: In the heart of Bucharest, a quiet fruit stall holds the key to Bucky Barnes’ fragile peace. Beneath the surface of his daily visits, a connection begins to form with the stall’s owner, someone who unknowingly becomes his anchor. But when danger strikes, Bucky’s protective instincts—and a hunger deeper than he realises—unleash.

Word Count: 4000

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, p in v, f recieving oral, overstimulation, Bucky is rough and touch-starved, Bucky goes between speaking English and Russian (but everything is translated), canon-typical violence, set pre-Civil War.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Masterlist

The city always woke before you did.

Vendors lifted their tarps with cold-stiff fingers, breath curling in clouds as they arranged their wares — crates of oranges gleaming under dusted frost, tomatoes nestled in cloth, fish still slick from the morning catch. The scent of bread from the bakery down the street mixed with the tang of damp stone and cigarette smoke. Voices echoed off the crumbling concrete of apartment blocks, and the sound of passing trams rumbled like thunder in the distance. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours.

You arranged your fruit with care, lining up the apples and pears, brushing each plum until it gleamed like glass in the weak morning light. You were halfway through stacking crates when you felt him.

Same as always.

He never made a sound, but you knew the moment he arrived.

He kept to the edges. You didn’t know his name. Didn’t know anything about him, really—except that he came nearly every morning, sometimes twice, always quiet, always alone.

He wore the same outfits most days. Black cargos or muddy, worn-in jeans or sometimes grey sweatpants that looked just a bit too small on him. Today he was wearing a red henley under a gray coat, the sleeves pushed up just enough to expose the edges of a glove on his left hand. His hair was dark and long, tucked under a black cap, and his jaw was always dusted with stubble, like shaving wasn’t worth the trouble. He looked tired, but strong. Solid.

He always stood a few paces away from your stall at first, like he needed to ease into it.

Like he was afraid.

You offered him a smile, same as you did every day. Not too much—just enough to show you noticed him. That you didn’t mind.

“Morning,” you said softly.

He gave a single nod in return.

That was how it always started.

He never asked for anything. Just hovered near the plums until you held out a paper bag filled with the best ones. You always made sure to pick them just right—ripe but firm, slightly cool from the early air.

You held the bag out to him now. “First of the season. They’re a little tart still.”

He took the bag from your hand with surprising care, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment.

You felt it.

So did he.

“They help me remember things,” he said quietly, almost like it slipped out before he could catch it.

You looked up at him. That was the most he’d ever said to you.

“Plums do?” you asked gently.

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “Sometimes.”

It was something about the sugar, the juice, the bite — they grounded him. Sometimes they sparked a memory. A flash of summer at Coney Island. His sister grinning with purple juice staining her chin. A paper bag splitting down the middle and the laughter that followed. He held onto moments like that the way a drowning man held onto rope.

You wanted to ask more, but something about the way he stood—shoulders tense, jaw clenched—made you hold your tongue. This wasn’t a man used to being asked questions. This was a man used to disappearing.

Still, you offered him a real smile. “Then I’ll make sure I keep the good ones aside for you.”

His gaze flicked up to yours, just for a second.

“Thank you,” he said, voice rough.

You watched as he turned away, crossing the square. He didn’t leave, though. Not completely. He stopped near the edge of a tall stone pillar, pretending to study the tram schedule posted beside it.

But you knew better.

He was watching you.

He always did that. Stuck around just long enough to make it obvious. Long enough to make your skin prickle and your heart beat a little faster.

And still—he never said more. Never lingered at your stall. Never asked your name.

Sometimes you wondered if he even knew how to.

It had been a quiet morning. You had greeted a few of your regulars and started making a shipment list to your supplier. The sun was golden and you basked in the warmth. You were open to spring-time heat, especially coming out of one of the coldest winters.

You were organising a box of apples when the shouting started.

A loud bang. The scrape of boots against pavement. Then a voice—sharp and angry.

“Hey! Open the drawer!”

You looked up just in time to see three men rush your stall. One of them slammed a hand against the side of the table, knocking over a box of fruit. Another pulled a gun.

People screamed. Someone ran. Your chest locked up.

One of them grabbed your wrist.

And then—

He was there.

The man in the red henley.

Moving so fast, he didn’t seem human.

The man’s fingers dug into your wrist, nails scraping over your glove as he yanked you forward, hard enough to send your hip crashing into the stall. Apples and plums spilled onto the pavement, rolling beneath boots. The crate hit the ground with a loud crack, and your breath hitched.

“Open the drawer,” he snapped, his accent thick. He shoved the barrel of the gun toward your ribs. “Now.”

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might crack your ribs from the inside.

You barely even noticed the crowd disappearing. They always did. The moment a weapon came out, people vanished like smoke, like survival instinct was stronger than loyalty. You didn’t blame them.

But you didn’t expect him to stay.

He had been watching the whole time.

The moment the first shout pierced the air, his body reacted faster than his mind. Muscle memory. Instinct. Violence uncoiling in his blood like something old and familiar.

He saw the way the man gripped your arm.

Saw the flash of fear in your eyes.

That was enough.

The paper bag hit the ground, forgotten.

He moved without thinking. Quiet as a ghost.

The first robber never saw him coming.

His shoulder slammed into the thief from the side, knocking the gun clean from his hand. It skittered across the stone. Before the others could react, the man had already turned, grabbing the second one by the front of his coat and lifting him off his feet.

He didn’t punch him.

He threw him.

Straight into a fruit cart.

Wood splintered. Oranges scattered.

The last one came at him with a knife.

The man caught his wrist, twisted—something popped—and the thief screamed. The knife clattered to the ground.

“Run,” He growled.

The thief didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled away, limping, clutching his wrist. The others followed, leaving behind the wreckage of your stall and a trail of bruises.

You stood frozen.

The gun was still lying on the pavement, a few feet from your boot.

The man in the red henley stood there, chest heaving, shoulders squared like he was still in the middle of a fight. His eyes were wild—too blue, too sharp—and his gloved hand was clenched tight at his side.

For a moment, he didn’t look like the quiet man who bought plums.

He looked like something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

But then he looked at you—really looked—and his expression cracked.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, voice rough.

You blinked. It took a second for your body to catch up. Your heart was still racing.

“No,” you said quietly. “You—” Your voice caught. “You saved me.”

His gaze dropped to your arm, the one the man had grabbed. “He hurt you.”

“Just bruises,” you said. “I’m okay.”

He stepped back, jaw tight like he wasn’t sure what to do now. Like maybe he’d scared you.

“Wait,” you said, reaching out before you could stop yourself. Your fingers brushed his sleeve. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, silent.

Of course he wasn’t.

Of course nothing touched him.

He’d fought like a soldier. Like someone who’d done this before. A hundred times.

You glanced down at the mess—fruit everywhere, your crate broken, the drawer yanked open and empty.

“What’s your name?” You asked, stepping closer to the man, breaking the distance. The empty streets began to fill again, with people who had only just bolted away. The man looked away from you shyly. You offered him your name, and you saw the tension leave his body.

“My name is James, but people used to call me Bucky.” He said slowly, like he really had to think about it.

“Can I call you Bucky?” You asked softly, tilting your head to catch his gaze again. The man nodded ‘yes’. “Let me thank you,” you said, quieter now. “Come upstairs. I have something to drink. It’s the least I can do.”

He hesitated.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. You could see the war behind his eyes—this wasn’t something he was used to. Being invited. Being wanted.

But finally, he gave a slow, stiff nod.

“Okay.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

The hallway was narrow and cold, the steps creaking under your boots as you led him up to the second floor. The whole building smelled faintly of metal and cigarette smoke—old plumbing, older neighbors. You’d lived here long enough not to notice anymore.

Bucky followed you silently, his footsteps slow and heavy like he was waiting for something—like maybe this was a trap. Like at any moment, someone might step out from behind a door and drag him back into the shadows.

You unlocked your door and stepped inside first.

“It’s small,” you said over your shoulder. “But it’s safe.”

He paused on the threshold, his frame tense, wide shoulders filling the doorway. His eyes moved across the space—your tiny kitchenette, the sofa with the fraying throw blanket, the open window letting in cool air. His gaze lingered on the plum-scented candle flickering on the table.

He stepped in.

You closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Sit,” you said gently, pointing to the couch. “Please.”

He didn’t sit right away. He stood near the window, head turning just slightly as if listening for footsteps in the street below. The war hadn’t left him, not really. You could see it in every twitch of his jaw.

You moved into the kitchen, filling two mismatched glasses—one with water, the other with a little vodka you kept stashed behind the tea tins. You handed the latter to him.

“Strong stuff,” you warned.

He took it from you without a word. His fingers brushed yours again—just barely—but it still made your breath catch.

Bucky sat down slowly, his massive frame sinking into the couch like he didn’t trust it to hold him. He kept the glass in both hands, staring at the clear liquid for a moment before finally taking a small sip.

“Not poisoned,” you joked softly.

A flicker of something—maybe a smile, maybe just relief—touched the corners of his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said after a beat.

His head turned sharply. “What?”

“Back there. With the men.”

His brows pulled together, like he was expecting a reprimand. A punishment.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall. “You could’ve been shot.”

“I’ve had worse,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You believed that. God, did you believe that.

“But still,” you said. “It means something. That you helped me.”

He didn’t answer. Just stared down into his glass again, his expression unreadable.

“Why did you help me?”

A long pause.

Finally, in a voice so quiet you almost missed it: “Because it felt like the right thing to do.”

“Oh, Bucky.”

He glanced up. There was something in his eyes now—wary, but soft. Open. Like hearing his name in your voice cracked something loose in his chest.

You moved slowly toward the couch, sitting beside him. Not too close.

Not yet.

“You always came for plums,” you said. “Every day. Sometimes twice.”

He nodded.

“They really help your memory?”

“Sometimes,” he said again. A quiet, familiar echo.

“But that’s not why you came.”

It wasn’t a question.

His breath caught—just a little.

“I saw you,” you said, voice low. “I saw how you looked at me. You don’t talk much, but... I’m not blind.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and intimate.

His voice came out rough. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you said.

His eyes searched yours. Deep blue, guarded, hungry.

“You don’t scare me, Bucky.”

He blinked like he didn’t quite believe you.

Your hand brushed his arm, deliberate this time. He didn’t pull away. His breath hitched. His grip on the glass tightened. You saw the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed hard.

You leaned in.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything.

But his eyes dropped to your mouth—and stayed there.

You didn’t kiss him first. You just leaned in, lips parting slightly, waiting—offering.

Bucky froze.

His breathing changed��deeper, more ragged. His eyes flicked from your mouth to your eyes, searching for hesitation. For regret.

There wasn’t any.

So he kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative.

It wasn’t careful.

His mouth crashed into yours like a dam breaking. Like something inside him had snapped free and couldn’t be held back anymore.

He kissed you like it hurt not to.

And God, he was hungry.

His hand came up to cup your jaw, fingers shaking just barely. You felt the cool press of his metal palm at your waist—gentle, hesitant—like he was afraid you might flinch. But you didn’t. You leaned into him, into the kiss, into the heat of him.

He groaned softly, like the sound escaped without permission. Like he didn’t know what to do with it.

You could taste the vodka on his tongue—sharp and clean—and something else. Something lonely.

When you pulled back to breathe, his eyes were wild. He looked stricken, almost.

“Bucky,” you whispered.

His jaw flexed. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

You tilted your head. “Then tell me.”

He kissed you again. Slower this time, but no less intense.

“I haven’t—” he started, voice breaking. He swallowed hard. “It’s been a long time.”

You cupped his face. His stubble scratched your palm. “Then let me take care of you.”

His eyes closed, lashes dark against his cheek. And then—barely audible—he whispered, “Ты моя.”

Your heart stuttered.

“What does that mean?”

He opened his eyes. “You’re mine.”

A beat.

Then—

“Скажи мне, что это не мечта.” (“Tell me this isn’t a dream.”)

You kissed him again instead of answering. You pressed closer, climbed onto his lap without thinking. He gasped when you straddled him, hands automatically finding your hips. His metal one clenched like he didn’t trust it—like it might break you.

“I’m real,” you said softly. “I’m here.”

He rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Позволь мне.” he whispered. (“Let me.”)

Then his hands gripped you tight, dragging you against him. And there was nothing hesitant about it now.

He moved like a man starved.

Like someone who hadn’t touched softness in years, who didn’t know if he deserved it. And yet couldn’t stop taking it.

Your shirt was the first to go—lifted over your head and tossed somewhere to the floor. His mouth found your neck, trailing kisses like worship, like apology, like punishment.

You felt the bite of teeth. The graze of stubble. The hiss of air between his lips.

“Такая мягкая.” he groaned into your skin. (“So soft.”)

He tugged his red henley over his head with one sharp pull, revealing the scarred expanse of muscle and shadow. The sight of him—strong, beautiful, broken—took your breath away.

You ran your hands over his chest, pausing over the star near his shoulder. He flinched.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

His voice cracked. “No. Don’t stop. Please.”

That please—it ruined you.

You kissed down his chest, tracing the scars, the stories he couldn’t say aloud. And when you reached his belt buckle, he let out a sound so low and wrecked it barely sounded human.

Then he said your name like a prayer.

Like a warning.

Like he wouldn’t survive this and didn’t care.

Bucky stood up and let you pull down his jeans, kicking off his shoes haphazardly and letting his discarded clothes pool on the floor, along with yours. His mouth was on yours in the next heartbeat, and you barely remembered backing toward the bed. You felt the firm weight of him, the unrelenting heat of his body as he walked you down until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. His fingers curled under your thighs, and he lifted you—lifted you like you weighed nothing—settling you in the centre of the bed as if you were something precious.

He stood above you for a moment, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding back for years. His hair was a mess from your fingers, lips kiss-swollen and parted.

“Ждал этого…” he murmured. (“I’ve waited for this…”)

Then he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed.

Your breath caught. “What are you doing—?”

He dragged your pants and underwear down in one motion, slow but hungry, eyes never leaving yours.

“Let me taste you,” he rasped. He wasn’t asking.

Your heart stuttered. And then—

His mouth was on you.

He moaned into it, like he’d found salvation between your thighs. His tongue was unrelenting—broad strokes, then precise flicks that made your back arch and your fists twist in the sheets.

“Fuck—Bucky!”

He groaned, like the sound of his name on your lips made him even hungrier. His metal hand pinned your hips in place, holding you exactly where he wanted you while his other hand slid up your stomach, across your ribs, between your breasts.

“Такая сладкая…” (“So sweet…”)

Your legs trembled, your thighs clenching around his head, and he loved it—let you grind against his face like it was the only purpose he’d ever had.

You came hard—stars bursting behind your eyes, your hands tangled in his hair, thighs shaking around him.

But he didn’t stop.

“Too much,” you whimpered.

He looked up, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “No. Not yet.”

And then he climbed up your body, kissing every inch—your stomach, the underside of your breast, your neck, your jaw—until he reached your mouth again.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, and the filthy thrill of it made your head spin.

“Bucky,” you whispered like it was a plea. “I need you. Now.”

He tugged his boxers down, and your breath caught at the sight of him—thick, flushed, aching.

He paused, forehead pressed to yours, chest heaving.

“It’s been so long,” he admitted, voice rough and raw. “I don’t know if I can—if I’ll be gentle.”

You reached down, stroking him softly. “Then don’t be.”

That snapped something in him.

He hooked your legs over his arms and buried himself inside you in one long, unrelenting thrust.

You gasped—he was so big, and the stretch was almost too much, but your body opened around him like it was made to.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched. “Squeeze me just right…”

He started to move—slow at first, then deeper, faster, harder.

Your bodies slapped together in a filthy rhythm, the bed creaking beneath you, the sounds of your moans filling the room.

“You feel so good,” you whimpered. “So fucking good—”

He growled low in your ear, his voice guttural.

“Я буду разрушать тебя каждую ночь…” (“I’ll ruin you every night…”)

You whimpered, clinging to him, your nails digging into his back.

“Please—don’t stop—”

“Никогда.” he groaned. (“Never.”)

He shifted your legs higher, hitting a new angle that made your vision go white.

You cried out, and he grunted, eyes wild. “That’s it. That’s the spot. Take it, Звезда моя…” (“My star…”)

You were both close—you could feel it, the way he trembled, the way your core clenched around him with every thrust.

“I want you to come with me,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck. “Come with me, baby. I need to feel you—please—”

You shattered.

Your whole body arched off the bed, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Bucky followed with a loud, broken moan, burying himself deep, shaking with the force of it.

He collapsed against you, both of you panting, sweat-slick and trembling, tangled in each other like there was nothing else in the world but this.

He didn’t move for a long time.

Just lay there, half on top of you, breath slowing, arms trembling as they wrapped around your waist. His cheek rested on your chest. You felt his heart pounding—still erratic. Like he couldn’t quite believe any of it was real.

You carded your fingers through his hair, slow and steady. He shivered under your touch.

Neither of you said anything.

Not at first.

Then, after several minutes, he finally spoke—voice low, muffled.

“Did I hurt you?”

You blinked down at him. “What? No. Bucky, you—”

He shifted just enough to look at you. His eyes were glassy. Open in a way you hadn’t seen before. Vulnerable. Frightened, even.

“I’ve never… done that. Not since—before.”

Before Hydra. Before the Winter Soldier. Before everything.

Your chest ached. You pulled him closer. “You didn’t hurt me. You were gentle. You were perfect.”

He breathed out slowly like you’d just released some tension he’d been holding onto for years.

Still, his eyes searched your face. “It was too much. I was too—”

“You were human,” you said firmly. “You needed it. I needed it too.”

He stared at you for a beat, then nodded—barely. His gaze dropped to your bare chest, his fingers brushing your side with careful reverence.

You pulled the blanket up and over both of you. He shifted to lie beside you, pulling you into his chest like it was instinct like he needed to. You felt the soft press of his lips to your forehead.

And then, softly—

“I didn’t come back for the plums.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

His lips twitched, barely a smile. “At the market. I kept saying I needed plums. That I liked them. But…”

“But?”

He hesitated, then whispered, “They help with memory. That part’s true. But I came back because of you.”

Your breath caught.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you. I didn’t think I should. But you were kind. And soft. And every time I saw you smile at me… I felt like I wasn’t a monster.”

You reached up, cupping his face. His metal arm tensed at your waist, then softened.

“You’re not,” you whispered. “You’re not, Bucky.”

He closed his eyes like he didn’t believe it, but wanted to.

You laid there for a long time, tangled together, the city quiet around you. His breathing slowed. So did yours. Eventually, he fell asleep—arm heavy around you, face pressed into your neck like he didn’t want to let go even in his dreams.

The morning came in again, soft and gold, light slipping through the sheer curtain beside your bed.

You were still tangled up in him—his leg hooked around yours, his arms holding you like a shield against the world. His hair was messy, his face unguarded in sleep.

You just stared.

Because somehow, this man—this ghost, this soldier, this stranger—had carved a space into your life overnight. And you weren’t sure you wanted him to leave.

He stirred a little when you shifted.

His voice came, low and rough. “Still here?”

You smiled. “Yeah. Still here.”

He blinked at you, barely awake, and for the first time, he looked peaceful.

“Good,” he said.

Then he kissed you—soft and slow this time, without hunger. Just need.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Taglist: @notreallythatlost @houseofaegon @bunnyfella

If you want to be tagged in all my future Bucky/Sebastian works, let me know. <3

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #civil war #thunderbolts #avengers #smut

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misserabella · 3 months ago

Note

could u pls write a fic/blurb of virgin spencer having fantasies of being dominant 🩷 btw live ur work!!!

my first orgasm goes to you! ♡

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, watching of p0rn, bondage, dom and sub dynamics, spencer’s livid mind, imagining of spanking, male masturbation (spencer), dirty talking (he talks to himself while he thinks of you)…

okay… so spencer doesn’t know how he’s gotten into this situation.

he’s not one to… indulge in this kind of activities.

intelligence is correlated with sexual desire. most evidence indicates a negative correlation between intelligence and sexual activity. researchers find that higher intelligence is associated with a delay in the initiation of a wide range of partnered sexual activities, from holding hands to sexual intercourse —that’s why he was still a virgin— . statistically though, scientists have discovered that, the higher the sex drive of the individual.

but spencer could probably count the times he has masturbated in his 25 years of life with one hand. he just… didn’t get the need.

well, that was a lie. there was obviously a need. a physical one. he, like any other man, woke up with morning wood every morning. but there wasn’t a… psychological one. he had never… fallen in love. sure. he could find beauty in a woman. even a man. but… he just didn’t…

couldn’t finish.

he had tried. made research. tried again…

and when he couldn’t make it. he would gave up.

spencer reid has never had an orgasm.

until today.

after trying pretty much everything. he tried the thing he wished he’d never have to use: porn.

just a few clicks and he was into one of the million of pages for it. and there was a lot of… content. a lot of options in which you could choose from.

but one video caught his attention. it was about dom/sub dynamics, and a little bit of bondage. he had informed himself about them, and curiosity won as he clicked on it.

his eyes widened when the view of a beautiful —and completely naked— woman caught his eyes. her wrists were tied to the posts of the bed in which she was laying, cries and mewls leaving her lips along with some ‘stop’s and ‘it’s too much!’s. in between her thighs, a man of his complexion —although spencer was more skinny, lean, but skinny—, laid, devouring her cunt as if he were starved, arms keeping her pinned, still, as the woman tried to scape from the pleasure and overstimulation, hips jerking against the man’s face, thighs shaking, tears streaking down her face.

but what really did it for spencer was not the sight, it was the fact that the woman looked like you. same hair and eye color, same complexion, same full lips… if he took off his glasses he could…

no. that was wrong.

you were his coworker.

it didn’t matter if he’s had the biggest crush on you since you had joined the team a year ago, or that he was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with everything that made you… you.

he had never fantasized about you. well, he had. how couldn’t he, you were beautiful, and smart, and kind, and… and he couldn’t control his subconscious mind while being asleep or what he would dream of. so of course he had had wet dreams about you.

but he had never touched himself with you in mind. he believed that you didn’t deserve to be objectified like that.

so he wouldn’t.

he tried and focus on the video. on the moans, on the groans and touches. and it worked. he was hard. he teased himself over his slacks, slowly, a breath leaving his lungs before pulling down the zipper and pulling down his pants and underwear, releasing his semi and taking it in his hand with a sigh.

he focused on the video, cheeks reddening at the embarrassment he felt for be doing this. but he had to try.

slowly, he started to jerk his cock, long drawn out faps from the tip to the root. he moaned as he played with the sensitive and weeping slit on the head, before continuing.

but after minutes and minutes of trying, his high wouldn’t come. he groaned and stopped. of course it wouldn’t come.

a flash of you passed through his mind and thoughts of you in the position of the woman in the screen, with him being in between your thighs, making you feel good, making you feel so good you couldn’t take it. but he would make you take it.

his cock twitched, and he groaned as he started moving his hand right back up. he was just so desperate to cum. it hurt. and he just couldn’t not think about you. he did all the time. also. you wouldn’t know right? it would just be this one time.

he took off his glasses, and went back to the video, where now the man was pushing up and in between his thighs, pulling a scream from the woman when he thrusted inside her, fast and hard.

spencer’s pupils were blown, his breathing ragged. it’s as if he could see you, see him. fucking you just like that man was fucking the woman. pounding into her swollen, overstimulated and squelching cunt over and over again, pulling his legs up against her chest in a mating press, reaching so deep he was on her cervix.

‘i can’t please. i can’t! it’s too much!’

spencer whimpered, going faster, hearing the woman cry. would you cry too? would you beg him to stop? would you beg him for more? how would you sound moaning his name? screaming it?

“fuck.”

please spencer, i can’t take it anymore, it’s too much!!!

he could almost hear it. your sweet voice lost in pleasure. could feel your plush soft skin under his fingertips as he’ll spank your thigh, taste the salt on your skin as he’d suck on your neck and chest.

“take it. fucking take it. you know you want it. you know you want this cock.”

he got lost in the moment, pretending with his eyes closed that the moans of the woman were your moans, moving his hand at the punishing ruthless rhythm the man fucked her.

jesus, this felt good…

more spencer, give me more!

“you want more?”

yes, please, please spencer, fuck me more, fuck me harder!

“holy fuck. yeah, i’ll fuck you harder.” his fist moved faster up and down his cock, slicked in his precum. “i’ll fuck you so hard you’ll have a hard time walking for days.” he tightened his hold. “fuuuuuck.” he moaned your name. “you’re so tight. so perfect for me. taking it so well… you were made for this. for taking my cock, hm?”

yes, yes, only for you spencer… i want you to cum inside. please cum inside. breed me, spence.

he groaned, his eyes rolling, a new unknown tight feeling growing in his lower stomach, his dick leaking and twitching like crazy.

“you want me to cum inside? inside this pretty little cunt? want me to breed you? leave you full and dripping?”

he could picture you, nodding, babbling, pleading.

“then take it. take my fucking cum. gonna fuck it so deep… right into your womb. fuck. take it take it take it!”

and with a last moan, his world was breaking up, vision whitening, whole body spasming as thick heavy loads of creamy white cum shot out of his cock, making a mess out of his wooly vest and hand. he was moaning, groaning and gasping, continuing to move his hand through his high, until nothing else was coming out. the video had ended long ago.

he looked up at his blurry ceiling. and groaned.

fuck.

he had just had his ever first orgasm.

and the reason had been you.

@cafekitsune ‘s separators!

@kittyisick ty for your support angel, hope you like it!💋

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erwinsvow · 1 year ago

Note

do you think shy reader is still a bit skittish and shy when her and rafe are fucking?

hundred percent, but in a good way.

rafe had been thinking you were getting better at the whole skittish thing when you and him were in bed.

there was at least improvement from when you two had first started dating, even though you were the one constantly asking him to be rougher. at first when he tried, it was clear it was way too much for you.

that made sense to him—you were mentally interested in all kinds of shit that your physical body couldn't handle. but he knew it wouldn't always be like that, and the one he had learned best in this relationship with you was patience.

rafe hadn't expected that he would have to constantly be reminding you about that word though. horny and impatient as you are, rafe knows better than to give in and push your limits. things with you are sometimes one step forward, two steps backwards, and so he's decided for both of you how to proceed.

unfortunately, sometimes you make it hard to stay patient. a well-timed short skirt or pretty dress, even the way you flutter your eyelashes and smile shyly at him has him reconsidering.

like today.

your skirt was pushed up, panties somewhere between your knees, while your boyfriend railed into you from behind. this is one of those things you wanted, one of the times you were actually begging for it—which had resulted in cutting lunch short early and driving back home at double the speed limit.

you're folded over, hands gripping rafe's headboard and face pressed into his bed. all around you, the scent and feeling of rafe overwhelms every sense, and mind unable to think, you let out moans muffled by his pillow.

your stomach tightens with every deliberate thrust, walls clenching around rafe and making him groan from behind you. rafe's stretching you out exactly how you need, in such a way that it's almost too much. all of it is, his hand gripping your hip and the other on the back of your neck, holding you in place. the way you know if you looked back, you'd see your boyfriend looming over you, face twisted in pleasure, probably grunting dirty words that will make you blush.

"y'like that, kid? i bet you do-" it comes out in grunts, between thrusts. you moan out an answer, but then you realize what rafe is really talking about, feeling his hand on your sensitive clit, rubbing you roughly while your body spasms.

it's too much now if it wasn't already. you pull away from him, trying to crawl up the bed and escape the overstimulation. you grasp at sheets when you feel it.

rafe grips both your hips tightly and pulls you back to him, your hand loosening immediately as you're yanked back. holding you down, he keeps pounding into you.

"don't run from it, baby. you're fine."

and if rafe says you're fine, then you're fine.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

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avaredava · 2 months ago

Text

JJK men and your weird questions

MDNI

Master lists

Nanami Kento:

You're raking your nails up and down Nanami Kentos bare chest, heaving up and down after having long sweaty sex.

He hit from the back today, even though he doesn't like it because he can't see your pretty face but seeing your ass jiggle makes up for it.

"What if I hit it from the back Nanami?"

He shut his eyes tight ribbing the bridge of his nose as he caresses your back. "How would that even work love?" He asked with an overstimulated hint in his voice.

"Baby you do a lot and you didn't even do aftercare because your overwhelmed and stuff but I want you to sit there and look pretty my gorgeous queen." You say with your lips puckered.

"Whatever makes you happy princess."

"Whoop! I love you so much Nanami, I already bought the strap."

"Oh my god."

He said for the tenth time today, he gets tired being your husband but he couldn't live without you.

Toji Fushiguro:

When you ovulate it's rough. Toji makes fun of you sometimes, because it's like your sex deprived, like he didn't just fuck you into the mattress an hour ago.

But seeing his muscles bulge in his tight shirt. But it's also good when he wears a baggy shirt too.

So when he stretched you can see his v muscle and happy trail leading to happy places.

So you instantly get wet. But for some reason the normal sex that last like 30. Minutes feels so good.

But it's so fast and quick. You need something slow and sensual. But sometimes you get so wet, you need it to be fast.

But maybe something else...

"Toji can I sit on your face?"

He turned his head back with a small grin. And a little nod just made your squeeze your thighs together.

Yeah he did not let you get off his face all night.

Suguru Geto:

Suguru will always be a dom, no matter what.

But sometimes it pisses you off. So mid sex when he was plowing into you missionary you started to yap.

"Fuck- Suguru so uhm I wanna talk about something." You say trying to stay composed because his thick cock was rubbing on every one of your sweet spots.

"Yeah? What's that pretty?" He said it in a breathy tone that made your clit throb. His hair hanging in front of his while is more shorter hair in the front stuck to his forehead with sweat.

He let out a shaky breath out when you held him closer. To whisper something in his ear.

"Can I like... eat your ass out?"

He rolls inside half way in a thrust and looks at you while he stopped. "What did you say?" His fazed look leaving his face to a more confused one.

"Like your chocolate starfish?"

His face dropped and pulled out immediately. He left, making you feel empty and a bit sad since he usually gives you after care but he ran into the washroom and you hear a ding on your phone.

"Listen, only if you never tell anyone because like it kinda sounds fun as long as it's with you."

Yeah this means more than aftercare.

Satoru Gojo:

"What's your opinion on smacking?"

"What?" He said snapping his head back to behind the couch to where you were standing, fluttering his white lashes over his wide open baby blues.

"I don't mean meanly, I mean like during sex." You respond in an overly happy voice, like you want him to hit you.

And of course his jaw drops, like the dramatic baby boy he is. He never wants to hit you. Even if mildly pinched you and he saw a blemish of red on your skin because he did that too you he would die. (His words, not yours)

"No!"

He said almost instantly after panicking, with a long stare and a gaping mouth.

"But..." His demeanor fully changed into cocky, you sometimes don't know how it works. But it happens.

"You can smack me mommy dommy."

You walk off with a roll of your eyes. "Eugh you ruined it, I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Ryomen Sukuna:

"Can you scratch your name out on my back?"

"Why in the world would I do that woman?" He said with a scrunch of his eyebrows and all four of his arms crossed.

You're sitting on his knee in his empty throne room. Just sitting quietly like he likes it. You're just reading and he's relaxing but looking over your shoulder once and a while to read what you're reading.

So the random breaking of silence just made him surprised. Especially when you said that.

"I wanna show people you own me." You said with a small smirk. Like he doesn't have you clinging to his hip 24/7.

But he gave in anyway, mid back shots (like usual) you felt his long nail drawing his name small on the back. A tramp stamp.

It hurt for a second but it quickly stopped when he used his cursed technique to heal it before it started to bleed.

The next morning you look at your back in the mirror, it was his first and last name in the prettiest font. He surprisingly has good hand writing.

When the scar goes away he'll do it again.

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orphicsun · 8 months ago

Note

what if reader is a cat burglar and breaks into pitfighter vi’s apartment one night and vi catches her and at first she thinks it’s kinda funny and says “are you dumb? there’s nothing in here worth stealing.” but then she sees how cute and scared reader is and decides to punish her for her actions

CONTENT: Vi x fem! reader, spanking (r! receiving), fingering & oral sex (r! receiving), spit play, hair-pulling, impact play, overstimulation, rough sex, degradation & some praise, dom / sub roles (dom vi, submissive reader), punishment, aftercare in the end

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

A/N: Thank you for the request I loved this one! Also if it's unclear because I only hinted to it, Vi comes back early because she forgot her bandages!! Enjoy<3

Your hands leisurely sift through the jewelry box, fingers brushing against a few rings and necklaces. Then, you feel it. Jackpot. A beautiful emerald, a real emerald necklace. You recall your friend telling you about how Pilties loved their jewels; frisking the accessory out of the box, you didn't expect to find such quality from an undercity home. Once again, another good snag. You smiled to yourself in pride though you were alone and slipped out the window you came out of, onto the night to bring your find to an.. 'old friend.'

The door jingled so comically and shut behind you. There, standing behind a tall desk and in front of shelves of treasures was Harlan: the pawn man of Zaun. He was intimidatingly tall and a snake if you ever did see one, but he was convenient, his building open at all hours of the night. Though most came to sell their own items, he didn't particularly need to know that yours were not technically.. well, yours. All he needed was something to sell up to the top-siders.

"Well, well, well. You've got something new for me today?" Voice so nasal, you'd think he was always in bouts of allergies, but no. Just a natural snake. "Show me what you've got for me, dear."

Your grin was as wide as the Cheshire cat's, "you'll never believe the haul, Harlan."

With raised brows, he bit. "How much?"

"One." Your hands found purchase at the front of his desk, amusingly starting up at his now impatient expression.

"You've come to me with only one item?" He sighed. "Fine, show me. What's so great about your find?"

Your toothy smile only widened, having lured him in for the catch. Then, your nimble hand fished through your pocket, pulling out the fish in question, the emerald shining as if to say, "I cost more than your Zaun home is worth by twice-over."

You had him hooked, and you were happily able to return back to your home with a bag of coins and a few heaps of gold stuffed into your pockets. Once your feet returned back to your humble apartment, you were quick to collapse onto your stiff mattress.

Your life mainly consisted of the routine of thievery. At night, you dressed to cover yourself and bade off to homes to snatch their possessions. From watches to even just coin itself, you were particularly good at going undetected. This was all you knew, and you didn't feel an ounce of empathy. What was fair was fair game, and what wasn't fair were the cards you were dealt with early into your childhood; why should anyone be offered what is simply 'fair', if you are not? You had rent to pay, your own mouth to feed, and everyone in Zaun in fact knew that money did equate to happiness. Everyone in Piltover may have been able to snuff those thoughts down as they mindlessly bought their way through life, leading more extravagance in a nanosecond than any person who'd lived in the undercity could see in a century-length lifetime.

Tomorrow, you thought, would be an even better haul. You usually did not plan through missions, for you were witty and able to go undetected. However, you knew what apartment to pick from tonight. You knew who to pick from, more precisely stated.

Her shoulders were broad, her hair dark. A glint of metal from her piercing flickered through visions, and her betters were smug. Vi was the name all undercity could ever think to talk about anymore. Vi was well-known for her abilities in the ring, and you knew she had a lot of money in her pockets from that. Little did you know that all of the cash went straight to brothels and beer, not to anything you could pick-pocket, though you did love a good quality drink or two.

You planned the perfect burglary: leave before Vi's first fight of the night starts so that she won't be in her apartment for a while, giving you enough time to find yourself her most valuable possessions. Every fight probably lasted under 15 minutes, but that did not include the time she spent at the bar with Loris or preparing for fights, so that added quite some extra time onto however many fights she'd be taking on that night. When you were satisfied with the haul, you would be careful not to leave a trace of yourself anywhere or make any noise that may pin you to the crime; you heard rumors that Vi was sweet on enforcers, and you wondered if that meant that she could possibly make it easier for you to be pinned to all of the robberies in the under-city if she were to ask for it. A trial like that? You'd be easily looking at decades.

You knew that without a doubt, this could go terribly wrong. Not only was Vi disgustingly connected to enforcers, but she was extremely strong. If you were to be caught, your life could be on the line. You weren't weak, but you were in no means fit to take on any pitfights, let alone Vi. However, you were quite foolish and the money from the emerald necklace would only get you so far. Plus, what's wrong with stealing from some enforcer suck-up?

So, you carried out your grand plan. At 8 p.m, the first fight began. Vi had not locked her front door, which surprised you but you were ironically grateful. Made it a lot easier than slipping through a window. Now, here you were, in Vi's apartment.

Taking it all in left you dumbfounded, to say the last. There was almost nothing in sight worth stealing. The room was tinier than you could even imagine; hell, it was smaller than your apartment and that was saying a lot. How in the world does a successful woman like Vi live in a place the size of a college dorm? The bed was hardly a mattress, and all of the valuable items you expected to see within the room were somewhat empty bottles of alcohol, dirty clothes all over the floor, and a few empty plates. Really the only thing worth stealing was the punching bag, but that would be difficult to carry, and you couldn't fit it in any bag you had on you. You momentarily noticed Vi's bandages on the mattress (if you could call it that), which was peculiar knowing that she was known for always fighting with those wrapped around her hands, but you were starting to panic over the fact that you plan was for naught. In a bit of a frenzy, you began sifting through her wooden nightstand's drawers for anything of importance. A flask, a small amount of coins, and a palette of black eye-shadow was all. And then, before you could get a chance to even take those items, you were caught.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" The door slammed. You whipped back around to see her standing a few feet away, looking cautious but not exactly furious.

"I-I..I was just..." Your words seemed to fail you. Everything you could think of, any possible explanation, it all vanished. You thought of coming clean, but she quickly caught you off guard with a burst of laughter.

"Oh my god, are you that thief everyone's been complaining about?! It's you?" She didn't sound even irritated anymore, just purely entertained. You stood, defensiveness creeping into you.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" You shouted, fingers clenching into fists. Okay, so you did not appear to be thief material, to say the least. You didn't look like some big-time robber, only like a 20 year old girl. Still, you almost wished she would've just turned you in. This was humiliating.

"It's just that... you're visiting me of all people? Are you that stupid? There's not a single thing in here even worth taking. You could probably find a mouse who lives in the wall and sell it for more than this place is worth." She laughed once more, looking over your body in a way that made you both offended and somehow hot.

"Oh, please. Says the one who's soft on the top-siders." Your mouth was going to get you in a lot of trouble, it seemed.

Vi's laughed quickly died down, and she began walking towards you. There was nowhere to go but backwards until your back hit the wall. "You wanna say that again, thief? I could have you rot in Stillwater, you know." That threat caused you to begin to panic. You'd heard countless stories of what the guards do to their prisoners, and you didn't think you could even survive an hour in one of those cells.

"I'm sorry, please don't...please don't tell anybody. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Vi raised a brow at that.

"Yes! I'll do anything, I'll give you all the cash on me, I'll never break into another house again, just..." You were starting to sound desperate, and Vi seeing some cute thief begging, offering her anything at all for her troubles... a wicked idea popped into her brain.

"I wanna fuck you."

"What...?"

"You heard me. I was planning on spending tonight's earnings on the brothel, but you'll work, I guess."

Her demand was met with silence. For some reason, more heat spread through your face at the thought of getting fucked by Vi than you'd care to admit. You knew that if you agreed, she probably wouldn't go easy. Then again, you didn't exactly have a choice. You were in her apartment after trying to take all of her shit. Before you could protest any further, Vi had you pinned against her wall, a hand gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. Her next words were quiet and low.

"Thieves deserve to get punished, am I right?" She let out a small hum at the way your breath hitched, "I mean, 'specially the pretty ones. So what'll it be, sweetheart?"

Your eyes widened at her words. "W-What will...what be?"

Vi laughed, a soft sound. "What'll it be? The enforcer's idea of punishment or mine?"

Your body was already betraying you, heat fluttering in your lower stomach at her words. This was the last thing you were expecting at the previous worries of getting caught, but you had to admit that Vi was hot. She had experience, too. You swallowed and tried to keep a steady voice with her.

"You."

Vi was a fucking maniac, you concluded.

She had you laid naked across her lap, your ass red with her handprint. Her hand spent what felt like hours slamming down onto your ass-cheeks, hitting both with an amount of force you knew that she contained, but didn't expect to feel. Each smack required a number. She forced you to count each and every spank, and if you hesitated for too long or lost count, she would start over. You didn't even remember how many times you were forced to restart because each blow on your rear left you a mess. All the while, she'd throw filthy words at you, somehow causing your pussy to grow wet and drip onto her mattress.

"Whores get punished when they get greedy. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you baby?"

SMACK!

"Every time I spank you, you seem to get even more soaked. A damn mess all over my bed. It's okay, baby. You'll make up for it."

SMACK!

When you were thinking about getting punished sexually, you imagined just a rough fuck. Maybe some heavy kissing and the usual lesbian stuff, not to be bent over this girl's lap and spanked like it was discipline, forced to count and basically stripped of any ounce of dignity your soul had. You had to admit that you loved it, though. The more her hand met your skin, the louder you got. It was absolutely hell, and you looked like it, too. Your hair that was once tied back was frizzy and tangled from the amount of times she'd gripped it to lift your head up. Your eyes were watery, rimmed with tears that reached your cheeks. Your bottom lip was sore and swollen from you biting down onto it to brace yourself for her punishment. Each moment was absolute torture.

And just when you thought it was over, Vi's fingers slipped inside of you, giving you no time to adjust before fucking you senseless. You cried out at the mix of pleasure and pain, trying to squirm away but Vi's hand on your hip kept you right in your place on across her lap.

"O-Oh, fuck!! Vi, please, take it easy on me-" You didn't even sound like yourself now, your voice broken from all of the crying and your words muffled from your face in the mattress. You were so fucking embarrassed, naked on top of this woman's thighs with her fingers thrusting into your pussy like she hated you. You were convinced she did.

"Why should I take it easy on you? You're just a filthy thief who's desperate enough to steal from anyone, and apparently desperate to get fucked." She berated you, voice so unlike what you'd heard before when she was lightheartedly laughing at you for breaking in.

"It's too much, please!! I can't take it.." You pleaded, crying into her pillow. It was too much, that much was true. Each hit to your g-spot wasn't like a brush but instead like a punch to it, and it felt like overstimulation before you were even able to cum yet.

Vi seemed to take mercy on you, at least that was what you assumed.

Her digits slipped out of you, but before you could sigh in relief, she had you flipped over and onto your back, laid out on top of her mattress with your legs spread in a matter of seconds. Soon, one hand returned to your pussy, three fingers pumping into you at a relentless pace as her other hand gripped your chin. Her eyes were dark with something you weren't used to seeing in anyone, and you began to realize why she was so good at fighting - she was fucking insane.

"Open that fuckin' mouth of yours. Right now." You didn't even wait to oblige, quickly parting your lips which were spilling out whines and cries for mercy. Vi spit into your mouth and used her own hand to close your jaw. "Now, swallow."

You swallowed graciously, and a flutter went through you at her taste. She hadn't even kissed you yet, and you now wanted her to. Her saliva was thick with alcohol and iron, perhaps from blood from a previous fight, but you needed more.

"V-Vi, need a kiss.." You begged breathlessly, expecting her to cave.

"You think you deserve a kiss?" You nodded eagerly, trying your best to even maintain the conversation with her fingers picking up in speed. "Yeah? You're getting a kiss after you've learned your goddamn lesson."

Before you could even whine in protest, Vi's head was between your legs, making out with your sopping cunt while three fingers curled to meet your g-spot. "You wanna complain about me fucking you like this, but you're soaking wet enough to take it and this sweet pussy's just clenching around my fingers like she never wants me to leave," she pulled away to remark before diving back in, tongue circling around your swollen bud.

"Oh, fuck!! Vi, no- You're gonna make me cum, Vi!!"

Only, Violet didn't seem to care. In fact, she wanted you to. She wanted you to so that she could do it again, and again, and again.

Vi coaxed the first orgasm out of you with the flat of her tongue and a deep plunge into your stretched-out hole. Each flick of her tongue sent you both squirming away and bucking up into her mouth. Every hit your sweet insides endured had you only gripping at her stained mattress harder. You cried, pleaded, and begged her for more. You could feel her smile against your pussy. She'd give you more, alright.

You were starting to regret your word when her mouth stayed latched to your clit and her fingertips abused your spongey, tender insides. You were practically fucked raw now, ass still red and sore, cries sounding more like a wounded animal than a real girl, and all you could even process was the sensations. You forgot what you came here for, forgot about wanting a kiss. You wanted mercy.

The second orgasm was a brutal paradise. Ecstasy flowed throughout your body in waves until once again, your pussy was feeling the raw overload of pleasure she was dealing you. You didn't remember how many more times this cycle continued, only that by the end of it, your lower half was numb and you recalled through teary vision, her chin coated in your juices and her lips parting to suck the taste off of her own fingers.

When she was finally done with you, she pulled you into her lap and held you tightly. Sure you were a little thief, but a cute one. Vi wasn't a monster. Her hands traced patterned over your back and squeezed you tightly. You sniffled, still coming down from the intensity of it all.

"Shh, you were a good girl 'f me...took it all and now you're here in my lap.." she comforted you, planting her lips onto your hair.

Then, you remembered what you really wanted to feel before you had to leave.

"Can I please get a kiss?" Your head pulled from her shoulder so that you could see her. Vi nearly melted at your eyes staring up at her, so vulnerable and in need of her care.

Of course she leaned in, pressing her lips onto yours with a gentle warmth just for you to have. She didn't rush it or invade your mouth, only spoiling you with her tender affection you craved after her harsh lesson. Her lips made soft smacking sounds against yours, causing you to softly hum against her mouth and lean in closer for more. You needed this stranger's care more than you needed anything else in that moment. When you pulled away, you placed your head onto her bandaged chest, letting her heart beat and sweet coos lull you to slumber. You ended up falling asleep in her arms, and you hoped to come back to her apartment, but rather for her than for stealing. Your body ached with the previous events, but Vi's hold on you didn't leave you throughout the night, squeezing you so softly to hear those sweet, sleepy squeaks.

#cheyisagirlkissermailbox #arcane smut #vi arcane #vi smut #vi x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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delugyu · 6 months ago

Text

cold, cursed city (part 1)

part 1 / part 2

summary: You wish your best friend would just leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

word count: 25.1k

tags: angst, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, reader has a crush on soobin, chaewon is reader’s other bestie, so much possessiveness and jealousy, beomgyu is extremely clingy, manipulation, lying, arguments, a lot of crying, guilt

smut tags: multiple smut scenes lol (2 in this part), switch!gyu, switch!reader, guided & mutual masturbation, dry humping, praise, little bit of degradation, nipple play, very desperate gyu, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f rec), dacryphilia?, pet names (angel, pretty girl, baby, etc)

notes: finally releasing this monster from its prison cell (my google docs). been working on this for a month because whiny possessive best friend gyu has been haunting me every day… anyway i hope u guys enjoy, and lmk what u think!

You hated the walk back to your apartment in the winter. It’s always so cold, and certain paths are always so icy. But you have no choice, and you’re fortunate enough that your job is only a ten minute walk away. It’s snowing today, though, hard enough to make you take each step with caution.

The wind whips across your face, making you squint to protect your eyes. You make it all of two minutes before giving up and going into the nearest public establishment you walk by, which happens to be your city’s library. You catch your breath as soon as you enter the building, taking off your jacket and folding it in your arms. You walk around slowly, looking for a comfortable chair to rest on. It’s unsurprisingly very quiet in the building. All you can hear is people typing on keyboards and hushed conversations every now and then. Everyone looks busy here.

You find a secluded area in the back corner of the library with three lounge chairs. You rush to take a seat there, letting out a sigh of relief as you sink into it. It’s right next to a heater, too. The yellow lights are soft and warm above you. You look out the window, watching the snow rage on. Now that you’re able to see clearly, you notice how there’s a good four inches on the ground. There’s a few people passing by here and there, but the streets are mostly empty. Even the cars are few and far between.

You fish your phone out of the pocket of your abandoned jacket to call Beomgyu. He should probably know that you’ll be back later than usual. By the looks of it, you could be waiting in this library for another hour.

“Hiii,” he says. You can hear his smile in his voice, and it makes you light up.

“Hi Gyu. Did you see the storm outside?” you ask, voice hushed so as to not disturb anyone. You don’t think he had work today, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed home all day, unaware of the weather.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to get six inches or something. Are you on your way back?”

You groan, “I was, but the wind is ridiculous right now. I had to take shelter in some library.”

He laughs at you. “Should I pick you up?”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now honestly,” you answer.

“It’s gonna get dark if you wait it out though,” he reasons. “I’ll pick you up, I don’t mind.” You hear the jingle of his car keys when he grabs them.

“No, don’t, you can just pick me up once all the roads are safe,” you offer instead. “You know you’re not a good enough driver to handle this weather.”

“Wow. I’m gonna drive through it just to prove I can now,” he says.

“Then the next time I see your face will be in some news article explaining the crash,” you snide.

“No, it’ll be an article about all the sick wheelies and 360s I did despite the storm.”

“Yeah right,” you laugh. “How are you even gonna do that with your shitbox?” You realize you’ve been talking a little loud when you see someone’s head whip over at you. You sink into your seat in mild embarrassment.

“I’m so good I could figure out a way to make this car fly.” You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it.

“Oh I’m sure,” you say. “Alright, I’ll call you back when you can pick me up. I’m just gonna chill here ‘til then.”

“Okay. Hope they plow the roads so my shitty driving doesn’t kill us,” he says, and you know he’s doing that stupid sarcastic pout.

“You’re such a drama queen,” you reply.

“You love it.”

“I guess I wouldn’t put up with it for so long if I didn’t.” You take another look out the window to check the weather. The wind calmed down a little, but not enough to go back out. Plus, you’re comfortable right now. “Well, I’ll see you, Gyu.”

“See ya.”

As soon as the call ends, you relax further into the lounge chair. Your posture is horrid, with your back being more on the seat than it is on the back of the chair, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Work was awful today: your boss scolded you about missing paperwork, a potential partnership with another company fell through, and your coworker wouldn’t stop talking about her family problems on your lunch break. Thank God tomorrow’s Friday.

You’re scrolling through Instagram when you notice a tall figure coming into your field of vision from over your phone screen. You look up and realize he’s coming closer to you. Your eyes widen for a second in panic, and you scramble to straighten your back out and look more presentable. You worry that perhaps this is a worker about to kick you out. Why? You don’t know. Maybe you’re about to find out.

You look innocently up at the man as he finishes crossing the few steps it takes to reach you. You try to ignore how cute he is. And tall. And sexy. And really, really tall—did you say tall? He’s so attractive and so your type.

“Hey, I’m sorry, could I sit here?” he ends up asking. He points to the chair furthest from you, since you took the right-most chair of the three. You’re a little stunned for a second, then you remember you have to talk.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, nodding quickly.

“Thank you. All the tables were taken,” he explains quietly, putting a bag down beside his chair.

“I know, it’s weird to see a library so full,” you say. He takes his laptop out of his bag and opens it on his lap. You think you might be watching him too closely, so you snap your head in another direction. There really is no empty table, you note as you look at all the people in the library.

“Normally it’s not. It must be because of the weather,” the man explains. You look back at him when he speaks, and a small smile finds its way onto your face when you see his bunny-like features. You’re never the type to ogle at someone like this, but he’s seriously so pretty. You can’t help it.

“I mean, I’m only in here because of the weather, so I believe it,” you say. The man smiles. You swoon.

“Makes sense. I’d remember if I’d seen you before.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

The man looks down at his laptop, as if he can’t look you in the eye when he speaks next. “Ah, no reason. I-I’m normally good with faces.”

He’s adorable. You figure this is how you can pass time until the storm is over.

“So you come here a lot?” you ask. You hope you’re not annoying him with all the conversation, but he seems happy to respond.

“I do my work here pretty much every day. I like it better than doing it from my home,” he answers.

“Oh wow, you work remotely?”

“Yep, and I get to choose my hours too. It’s a perk of the job.” He starts typing something on his laptop. You watch his diligent fingers fly across the keyboard. He has big hands. Your head is reeling a little.

“I wish my job was like that,” you say. “Well, I’ll let you work now. I don’t want to distract you.” You relax back into your chair, not realizing how close you’ve been leaning in during the conversation.

“No, I honestly like the conversation! It makes the time go by faster,” he rushes to say. You perk back up and can’t control how you beam. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear.

“I’ll make sure to keep talking in that case,” you giggle. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces, looking into your eyes kindly.

You tell him your name. “Nice to meet you,” you say.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“So, what exactly do you do for work?” you ask. You’re surprised at how well he can focus on the conversation and on his work. It’s impossible for you to multitask like that.

“I do software engineering for an insurance company. We just finished a major project a couple days ago, so there’s not a ton to do for the rest of the week.”

“Damn, sounds like there’s money in that.”

He laughs, “I guess so.”

“My job’s a lot less interesting than that,” you start, going on to explain your position, then about the mess of today at work, and your conversation with Soobin flows from anything to everything until you remember that Beomgyu’s waiting to pick you up. You look out the window to monitor the weather. It looks like the snow has long since stopped. The streets are plowed, only illuminated by the streetlights since it’s gotten so dark. You find yourself disappointed to have to cut the evening so short.

“Are you leaving already?” Soobin asks.

“Yeah, my friend’s gonna pick me up.” When you unlock your phone, you find that Beomgyu’s already texted you a couple times. You also find that it’s been an hour and a half since you last called him. Holy shit, the time really did fly. You open his messages to read what he sent.

[Beomgyu] are u readyyyyy

[Beomgyu] ANSWER ME WHERED U GO

You call him, and he picks up after only the first ring.

“Finally,” he said. “You had me thinking you started going back on your own or something and died.”

“Pfft, you think so lowly of my survival skills,” you respond. “You should head out now before I lose any beauty sleep.”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” he jokes. You hear him grab his stuff and shut the door behind him. “I hate parallel parking so just wait for me in front of the building, I’ll pull up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Gyu~” you say sweetly.

“Mhm, see you,” he says.

“See you.”

The drive is only a few minutes. You should probably head out front now. You look back to Soobin.

“Hey, thanks for the conversation,” you say. “Made my shitty day a little better.”

“Same here,” Soobin agrees. He watches you put on your coat, getting ready to leave. You don’t think he has it in him to make the next move, so you do it instead.

“You know, it would be a shame if I had to leave right now without your number…” You blush as you say it, looking off meekly for just a second, then back to him to see him giggling. (You? Make him? Giggle? Fucking score!!!)

He motions for your phone with his hand. You can’t wipe the grin off your face as you open a new contact page. You watch him insert his information.

“Let’s meet again soon,” he suggests when he hands his phone back to you.

You nod. “I’ll be in contact,” you say and wave your phone in your hand. Perhaps you’ll be making more stops to the library now.

You seem to exit the library at the same time Beomgyu arrives. You get into his car quickly to avoid the cold weather, shivering once you enter the car.

“Why isn’t your heater on?” you ask, fiddling with the buttons on the dash to turn on the heat.

“My heater barely works. It won’t even kick in before we get back home,” he explains, shutting the heat off again. You make a face at him.

“Then drive, I’m freezing,” you insist.

“I’m on it boss.” He gives you a salute.

His music plays quietly in the background of the ride. He has a nice taste in music, the type fitting for night drives.

“What’d you do today?” you ask him.

“Play League,” he says. You laugh at him, and he looks away from the road for a second to smile at you. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Why do you always make me decide?” you complain.

“Cause I don’t know what I want.”

“I don’t know what you want either, you always reject my choices.”

It’s a short drive to your apartment complex, so you arrive quickly. You rush to get inside once Beomgyu’s car is parked. The moment you open the door to your apartment, you fall flat onto the couch. You don’t care how your face digs into the cushion, it just feels nice to alleviate the day’s stress.

Beomgyu follows behind not long after. “Damn, you ran here,” he remarks. He stays at the door for a minute, probably putting all his stuff away, before he approaches you. You feel him taking your boots off your feet, which you forgot to do in your haste.

“Thanks,” you murmur into the couch cushion.

“You’re welcome.” He leaves you for a moment to put your shoes on the shoe rack by the door. When he comes back to you, he’s sliding your jacket off your arms. He folds it sloppily and plops it on the coffee table.

You turn your head so it’s facing him instead of being pressed into the couch. “What’d you decide for dinner?” you ask him.

He laughs. “Wasn’t that your job?”

“No.” You sit up with great effort. He sits on the other side of the couch and extends his legs out. You freak out when he rests his feet on you. “Nasty!!”

“I got socks on!” he exclaims in defense. You slap his feet away until he gives up and tucks his legs into his body.

“What time is it?” you ask.

Beomgyu checks his phone. “Seven.”

“I’m too tired to cook anything,” you say.

“I think we have leftovers we can just heat up,” he says, then gets up to look in the fridge and make sure. He holds a container out to you. “You want?”

Looks good enough. “Yeah,” you answer. He closes the fridge and grabs two plates.

“I’m so nice, cooking for you,” he says, portioning the food between your plates. “How long do I nuke it for?”

“Try two minutes.”

The rest of the night follows like any other: you eat dinner with Beomgyu, you watch a little TV, you get ready for bed, then you sleep. You hope a certain tall, attractive man visits you in your dreams tonight.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you walk back home from work the next day, it’s considerably better in terms of weather. Your eyes linger on the library as you pass it by, and your hand twitches around your phone. Soobin still hasn’t texted you. You’re a little disappointed, honestly. Every notification you received throughout the day made you light up, thinking it might be him. You might just put your pride aside and text him yourself at this point. You even think about walking back and waiting in the library for him, but then you’d just look weird.

When you get back home, Beomgyu isn’t there. His work schedule is so inconsistent, you never know when to expect him. He’s not a 9-5 worker like you, so you suppose that’s where the difference in flexibility comes in.

You lean against the kitchen counter and find Soobin’s contact on your phone. You open a new conversation with him, excited to talk again. You don’t think too much about your messages before you send them.

Hiiii

It’s the girl from the library

You shut your phone off after, not expecting an answer for a while. You turn on your playlist and busy yourself with getting undressed, wiping off your makeup, and showering. You go back to the kitchen once you’re finished to figure out what you’re gonna make yourself for dinner. As you’re gathering a list of ingredients in your head, your phone vibrates on the counter. You grin as you rush to look at the messages, making sure not to open the chat immediately though.

[Soobin] Hi! I’m glad you didn’t forget about me

You find yourself giggling at the message. You’ll respond in a few minutes, not wanting to seem desperate by opening it right away. You pass the time by taking out some ingredients for the meal you’ll make tonight. As you wait for your veggies to steam, you decide that now you can answer Soobin.

Forget you? How could I?

Hehehe

Wyd??

You’re in a very chipper mood, swaying around as you stir your vegetables and decide they’ve softened enough. You hum the tune of a song while you add noodles into a pot of boiling water. Your phone buzzes when you’re in the middle of making the sauce, so you try to hasten your movements. You finish pouring everything in, giving it a quick stir and making sure the heat is on low before running to your phone.

[Soobin] Drinking and watching TV lol

[Soobin] How about you?

You take a picture of your stovetop, sending your work in progress to him.

Working on my culinary creations

You’re done making your meal when he replies to that.

[Soobin] Looks yummy

You laugh and open your camera, taking a picture to send of the plated meal. You type your response immediately, not caring about waiting a few minutes between anymore.

Tastes decent

It seems he doesn’t care to wait to respond to you either, cause his next text is immediate.

[Soobin] Woah five stars

Your conversation fizzles out not long after, but you feel satisfied with it. Even as you clean your dishes, your smile doesn’t leave your face. You almost forgot how exciting it is to have a crush.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The next time you see Soobin is Monday after work at the library. You offered to hang out with him as he works, and he seemed more than happy to accept. He even asked for your coffee order so that he could bring you a cup. You need the caffeine after such a tiring day at work, you don’t care if it keeps you up until midnight. The coffee’s still hot, but not scalding, when you arrive. You take a seat in the same chair you sat in when you first met.

“Thank you for the coffee,” you say, using the disposable cup to warm your hands. Your face still burns from how cold the walk here was.

“Of course,” he replies. “How was work today?”

You shrug. “Not much to do. I almost fell asleep at my desk. What’s on your agenda for the day?”

You pretend to understand the techy language he spews back at you when he answers. You take a sip of your coffee, humming in appreciation at the taste.

“Where do you get your coffee from? This place does it so good,” you ask, trying to look at the cup for a logo.

“Actually, I get it from a cat cafe near where I live,” he answers. You gasp and look at him in awe.

“What?! Is it new? How have I never heard of it?” You always wanted to go to a cat cafe. Their delicious coffee is just a bonus.

“I don’t think it’s new, but it’s kind of secluded, and the sign is small, so it’s easy to miss.”

“You have to bring me sometime,” you insist.

“Noted,” he laughs.

It gets quiet when Soobin starts focusing on his work, which you don’t mind. You look around the library, taking in the atmosphere. Soobin was right, there are way less people here today than there were on the night of the storm. The library is warm and nice and never loses power, so it’s not a bad place to turn to, you suppose.

You turn on your phone and find a text notification from Beomgyu. You open it.

[Beomgyu] are u on ur way back

You usually tell him when you won’t be back after work, but you guess you forgot to this time. It’s reasonable for him to ask, since you’d be back home by now on a regular day. You explain yourself in a text message back.

No lol

I’m out with somebody rn

I’ll be back for dinner

[Beomgyu] nooo don’t make me cook

You snicker at his response.

Okay I’ll pick up something on my way back

[Beomgyu] muahahaha yessss

[Beomgyu] who are u with?

You think for a moment on how to answer the question. You don’t want to tell Beomgyu about a guy you’re only just starting to see. He’ll flood you with questions that you don’t want to deal with if this ends up going nowhere.

A friend you don’t know lol

You put your phone down when Soobin starts talking to you again. It’s so easy to sink into conversation with him. You find yourself asking most of the questions, liking his eagerness to explain little things about himself. You talk about yourself here and there too.

Time flies yet again, and you realize that you should be heading back home now. You remember promising Beomgyu to pick up dinner on the way back, but you’re not sure where to go. You look over at Soobin.

“Do you know any good spots for food nearby? I still gotta grab dinner,” you ask.

“Yeah, there’s a restaurant that does really good fried chicken, it’s not too far from here,” he answers, then tells you the name of the place. You commit it to memory. You’re about to thank him before he starts up again, “I’ll come with you. I haven't eaten much today.” He starts logging off and shutting down his laptop. You’re so excited at the prospect that you don’t turn him down, even though it means Beomgyu will have to wait a little longer for his food.

The walk to the restaurant is quick and filled with small talk. You get him to laugh hard at one of your jokes, and it feels better than scratching a winning ticket. At the restaurant, you sit across from him in a comfortable booth.

“This one is really good,” Soobin says, pointing to one of the options on the menu. You purse your lips and nod.

“Sounds interesting,” you say. “Normally I go for spicy chicken though.”

“The sauce is so good on it. At least try some of mine,” he insists.

The waiter comes and you order your food. As you wait for it to arrive, you figure you should ask Beomgyu what he wants from here. You send him the link to the menu online.

Lmk what you want

[Beomgyu] omgggg that place looks so good

You feel even happier with your choice to go here now. Hopefully Beomgyu won’t feel bad that you ate without him. You don’t linger on the worry, though, not when Soobin starts telling you about how his first job was at a restaurant that reminds him of this one. You lean into your palm, staring at his handsome face with a dopey smile. Maybe it’s just you, but today just feels like more proof that there’s a lot of potential between you two.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Visiting Soobin at the library becomes a common post-work habit for you. You see him another three times in the next week. There’s something about him that won’t let your heart sit still, fluttering at each little thought of the man.

Your coworkers noticed you had some more pep in your step, and you wonder if having a crush is really giving you a glow. You were just excited to get out of work and go to the library. Even Beomgyu says something when you get back home.

“Someone looks happy,” he says from the couch as you walk into your apartment. You didn’t notice how hard you were still cheesing until he mentioned it. You take off your shoes and jacket.

“Maybe a little,” you giggle. Beomgyu follows you when you walk into your room. It’s normal for him to accompany you while you get unready. He sits on your bed, and you sit at your vanity.

“What are you so smiley for?” he asks. You guess your happiness is contagious, cause when you look at him through your mirror, he’s smiling too.

“Oh, nothing…” you say, building up the anticipation. Truthfully, ever since you left Soobin today, you were planning on how you should tell Beomgyu about him. You’re excited; you haven’t had a real relationship since high school, and you feel it coming up on you now. Any day now, you’ll get the courage to ask him out. Everything has been friendly so far, but you can feel the undertone of romance behind it all.

“What? Tell me!” he exclaims. He walks over to you, standing right by you as you clean your face. “Did you get a promotion?”

You laugh, “I wish.”

“Then what?” he asks. “Is it your new friend?” You shrug and sigh girlishly. You see his smile falter a little in the mirror.

He stops guessing and just watches you take off your makeup. He stays stood next to you, entertaining himself with the little trinkets on your vanity. His silence is a little weird, but you don’t break it with conversation either.

You finish taking care of your face and get up to pull some comfier clothes from your dresser. You throw them on your bed and look over at Beomgyu. He takes the hint and turns to the wall so that you can take off your work clothes.

“Did you see the group chat?” he asks as you slide a loose shirt on. You hum in confirmation. Your friend group is planning to go out together to a nice bar tomorrow night. You even mentioned it to Soobin, gauging his reaction to see if he’d potentially come. “Did you wanna go?”

Something in your heart urges you to spill your secret now. You want to try to sound casual about it, even though you feel like you could talk on and on about Soobin. You don’t let yourself pause too long, deciding to just speak without thinking too much about it.

“Yeah, I’m thinking I’ll invite the guy I’ve been talking to recently,” you say. You’re not prepared for how Beomgyu whips his head around and looks at you like you said something insane. You finish pulling up your sweatpants quickly, but you don’t think he even notices.

“What?! What guy you’re talking to?” he asks, and you’re taken aback by how appalled he sounds.

You put your hands up. “Woah. Chill.”

“No. What are you talking about??” he pushes.

“I’ve already been talking to him for like, two weeks, it’s fine.” You figure he must be upset because he’s cautious of you being with men you barely know. That’s fair, you’re weary when your girl friends bring up new men sometimes too.

He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s dropped the case until he starts back up, “Is this the same person you’ve been seeing after work?”

“Yeah, he’s a really nice guy,” you answer.

“You said you were with a friend.” There’s something accusatory in his voice. You tense up as defensiveness flows through you.

“Because I was?” you say incredulously.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you came home so smitten today. I had a feeling.” He looks at you like he’s disgusted, but you can’t figure out why. It’s not like you did something wrong.

“You’re not happy for me?” you ask. He looks away and huffs out a laugh. His arms are crossed over his chest, and you’re baffled as to why he’s taking so much offense to this.

“No, I don’t know this guy,” he says.

“That’s why I’d be bringing him tomorrow.”

“Why? It’s just supposed to be us.” You sit on your bed, and he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even move from the spot he’s standing.

“Just give him a chance. I think you guys could be friends,” you suggest.

“Fat fucking chance. No way,” he refuses. Now you’re getting upset, cause why the hell can’t he at least try to hang out with the guy you just said you’re interested in? As your best friend, he should be in full support of you finding love.

“Well, I’ll talk to the others about it and see what they think.” You pull your blankets up and go on your phone, not paying Beomgyu any more attention. You hear him scoff and leave the room.

You lay on your side and replay the argument in your head. Did you bring it up wrong? Maybe you introduced the idea at the wrong moment. Maybe Beomgyu had a bad day, and he’s just lashing out at you. He never does that though, why would he start now? You’re so frustrated. You wish you knew why Beomgyu cares so much.

Whenever you see him with girls, you don’t make a big deal. You help him with what little gestures to do to make her feel special. You always give him advice. His relationships never last, though, and he hasn’t seen anyone since you two moved together over a year ago.

Throughout the three years you and Beomgyu have been friends, you haven’t dated a single person. You guess you were wrong to assume that he’d be happy to see you finally do so. Did he want you to tell him sooner? It’s only been a couple weeks, though. That’s pretty soon.

You regret saying anything now. Beomgyu might not even go to the get-together if you ruined his mood that much. Maybe you shouldn’t go. All your friends might get pissed at you the way Beomgyu did. You don’t know what the right way is to introduce Soobin.

You throw an arm over your eyes and scowl at yourself. Why are you wallowing in self-pity? Beomgyu had no right to react like that! He forgets that you can do whatever you want with your life!

The smaller voice in your head reminds you that Beomgyu has always been a good friend to you. He rarely gets upset at you, and whenever he has, he was within his right. But this time? Really? Was it justified? You almost groan in frustration. You don’t know. All you know is that you’re in dire need of talking to another girl now. You unlock your phone and open your chat with Chaewon.

Heyyy you’re going to the bar with us tomorrow right??

[Chaewon] YES!!!!

You smile at her response. You love her bubbliness. It’s impossible to feel sad when you’re talking to her.

Thank god

We should get ready together at your place

I’ll just head there right after work

You hope she takes up your offer. It would be a huge stress relief for you. It would also be a good time to gauge her reaction on Soobin, as well as her thoughts on Beomgyu’s reaction. Debriefing life—even the bad moments—is never dull with her. It’s like she always knows what to say, and she’s always got what you need to hear.

A smaller part of this is motivated by the urge to avoid another argument with Beomgyu tomorrow. If he ends up coming, great. If he doesn’t, hopefully it won’t weigh on your mind so much. You don’t want to ruin your mood right before hanging out with all your friends.

[Chaewon] Omg yes please

[Chaewon] I have the cutest dress for you

You giggle and kick your feet in the air. Maybe you should ditch Soobin and let Chaewon carry you on her arm tomorrow night instead. She’s your hero right now.

I literally love you

[Chaewon] I LOVE YOU MORE

[Chaewon] IM SO EXCITED

ME TOO!!!!

Your shoulders feel less heavy after that. You shut your phone off and let out a sigh of relief. You find yourself excited for tomorrow to come now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Luckily for you, your work day passes quickly. You speed walk the whole way to Chaewon’s place, not wanting to waste a single moment. You’re excited for tonight, thankful that everyone said they’d be able to come. You try to push back the worry that Beomgyu might not go.

You’re out of breath when you knock on Chaewon’s door. She doesn’t leave you waiting long, swinging it open with a squeal and hugging you immediately.

“How are you?” she asks as she ushers you in and shuts the door. She takes your jacket for you as you slide off your shoes. She hangs it on a cute little coat rack.

“I’m good now that I’m with you!” you say, beaming. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom.

“Let’s not waste any time, we gotta look hot before the hour’s up!” In her bedroom, she already has two small bins of makeup products on the floor. She gives you her makeup mirror and uses a smaller handheld one for herself.

“Oh, I already did my makeup,” you say, trying to hand the mirror back to her. She raises an eyebrow at you.

“You mean your work makeup?”

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask, looking in the mirror to check it. Looks fine to you.

“It’s cute, but it’s so modest. You need to look sexy,” she responds. You nod and point at her like she made a great argument.

“You’re right, let me see what you got in these,” you say as you dig through her bins. You pull out the palettes and glosses that intrigue you. She also picks some products out for you, telling you how good they’d look on you. You grab a few of your own products from your purse.

As you both start applying, you think back to Soobin. You wonder how he’ll react seeing you in non-work attire. You bite back a smile at the thought. You still have to ask Chaewon about bringing him, though. You hope that Soobin kept his schedule free for this, but also that he won’t be disappointed if you don’t end up inviting him in the case that Chaewon thinks you shouldn’t.

“I got a surprise announcement,” you start, immediately grabbing Chaewon’s attention. She looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m scared. Please don’t be pregnant,” she says.

“Well, there’s this guy…” You can’t even finish your sentence before Chaewon starts screaming. You burst out laughing, and she smacks the ground in amusement.

“Okay, okay, tell me more,” she pries once she calms down.

“His name is Soobin. He’s really cute, but also so hot. Like, Chaewon. I swear. I was drooling when I first saw him.” Her jaw is dropped open as she hears that.

“How'd you meet?” she asks.

“We met at the library a week ago and have been talking every day since,” you explain. “And girl… he does tech for an insurance company. That sounds like money to me.”

“Bring me to his mansion when you get married,” she jokes.

“Oh for sure. Imagine though,” you say.

“That’s so good for you. I could actually cry for you. You needed this.”

“Right?! See, at least you get it.”

“I mean, who wouldn’t? He sounds so good.” You pause doing your makeup to give her a pointed look. You emit an exaggerated groan and lean your head back.

“Don’t get me started,” you say.

“Well now I have to hear.”

“When I brought it up to Beomgyu, he completely freaked out. I mentioned bringing Soobin with me tonight and he just lost it.”

Chaewon scoffs. “Screw him, I wanna meet the guy! Who cares what Beomgyu thinks?!”

“I care, I don’t want him to be pissed at me,” you say, and Chaewon frowns.

“He’s just mad cause you’ll be getting it and he’ll be watching from the sidelines,” she says. You push at her shoulder and she laughs.

“You should try to set him up with someone so he gets off my ass,” you suggest, only half-joking.

“As if he’ll ever look at someone besides you.” You tilt your head upon hearing that response, not knowing what she means. She senses your confusion and continues, “I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

You rush to deny the claim, but your heart picks up in some weird sense of panic and shock. “That’s not it at all,” you say. You shake your hand frantically in denial.

“Keep telling yourself that. Why else would he freak out like that?” she asks.

“Oh my gosh… I’m not even hearing this one out,” you dismiss, locking this conversation away to never think about it again. “So, you think I should tell Soobin to come?”

“Yes! One million percent. I have got to see this handsome stranger,” she answers.

“Okay, I’ll text him once I’m done with this.”

“I haven’t been this excited in so long!” Chaewon squeals. Honestly? You either.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you find your friends’ table at the bar, you notice Beomgyu’s absence. Your heart sits heavy in your chest upon realizing that. Chaewon grabs your hand, and you wonder if you were wearing your guilt on your face. Her reminded presence is reassuring. You sit next to her at the table and greet all your friends.

“Did anyone pregame?” Aeri asks. “Cause I totally did.”

“Girl, I hope you Ubered here then,” Chaewon says.

“I drank a little, but only enough to feel a buzz,” Julie answers.

“Ayy,” Aeri cheers while high-fiving Julie.

“Meanwhile we were too busy scrambling into these dresses to think about drinking,” you say, pointing between yourself and Chaewon.

“You look hot, it was worth it,” Julie says.

“Is Beomgyu not coming?” Yeonjun asks, looking at you.

“I’m not sure. I thought he was,” you answer.

“He better,” Julie says. “The whole group hasn’t gotten together in so long!”

“Speaking of, there’s gonna be an addition to the group tonight,” Chaewon announces, shimmying her shoulders and looking at you. You roll your eyes at her with a fond smile.

“I asked this guy I’m seeing to come by tonight,” you inform, and the table erupts at the news.

“When’s he coming? I’ll give you my brutally honest opinion after seeing him,” Aeri says.

“Oh, you’ll love him,” you say. “Don’t flirt too hard, I can’t have you stealing him from me.”

“So a little flirting is okay?” she jokes. You lean over the table to swat her shoulder.

“He kinda gives shy vibes, so don’t be surprised if he’s not as energetic as us,” you say.

“Let’s just get him super drunk then,” Yeonjun suggests. The table bursts into a chorus of ‘yeahhhh’s.

“Oh hey, look who came,” Chaewon says, putting a hand on your shoulder and pointing her chin to Beomgyu walking towards your table. You hope your smile doesn’t look forced and awkward, but it feels it as he comes closer. Your eyes dart from Chaewon, to your other friends, to your hands on the table, then back to Beomgyu. Your heart pounds in fear that Beomgyu might still be mad at you. He wouldn’t come if he was that upset still, right?

He sits next to Yeonjun, and you’re holding your breath as you gauge the look on his face. He looks… happy. You release your breath slowly. He holds no anger in his eyes when he meets your gaze. A weight lifts from your shoulders.

Yeonjun slaps a hand onto Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Finally!” he exclaims.

“Hey, you think I’d miss a chance to drink with you guys?” Beomgyu responds.

“Okay, let’s get started. Should we each just open our own tab?” Julie asks.

“Yeah, that works,” you answer.

“Wait, I have no money, who wants to be my sugar mommy for the night,” Aeri says.

“You can put yours on mine,” Chaewon offers. Aeri wraps her arms around her for a quick hug in thanks.

“I will pay you back in double when I get my next paycheck,” Aeri promises.

“Ahh come on, don’t worry about that, let’s just have fun,” she responds. Chaewon pulls you up with her to go over to the bartender. Aeri follows along with the two of you. The other three probably split off on their own to figure out their orders.

The three of you take a shot for good luck first, then you work on your own drinks. You’re all giggling as you head back to your table with your drinks. Beomgyu and Yeonjun are back with their own beers, and Julie is nowhere to be seen.

“You think Julie’s drunk already?” Aeri asks the table.

“Oh, she’s been drunk. When she says she’s a little buzzed, that means she’s fucking wasted,” Chaewon says. Everyone laughs because it’s true.

You don’t know how much time passes where you guys just catch up on life and joke around, but at some point you feel your phone vibrate from a text notification. It’s Soobin.

[Soobin] I’ll be there in a minute! Please wait for me at the front so I can find you

“Guys, I gotta go grab Soobin, I’ll be right back,” you say. Everyone’s still caught up in conversation and doesn’t pay much mind to your announcement—everyone except Beomgyu. His eyebrows are upturned, eyes wide as they follow you when you stand.

You pat his head. “I’ll be back,” you reassure.

You don’t wait long by the bar door. Soobin finds you as soon as he walks in, greeting you with a hug. It takes your breath away for a second. It’s fleeting, and it’s over before you know it, but it makes your heart race.

“How have you been?” he asks. You’re standing so close that you have to bend your neck to look up at him.

“Good, better now that you’re here,” you say. He turns his head away to laugh. It’s unbearably cute. You have to stop yourself from squeezing his face in your hands.

“Do your friends know I’m coming?”

“Of course,” you answer. “They can’t wait.”

“Oh gosh,” he says, following you as you lead him to your table. It seems like Julie came back in the time you were gone, cause everyone’s there when you get back. All the girls squeal upon seeing Soobin. You give them a knowing grin.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Yeonjun greets. “Sit, sit.” He motions to the chairs on the opposite side of the table from him. You sit next to Julie, and Soobin sits next to you. Right across from you is Beomgyu. You tighten your lips when you see him looking off as if uninterested. You pray he can be amicable.

“Yeah, so, this is the boy,” you say.

“I’m Soobin,” he introduces with an air of awkwardness. It endears you.

The next few minutes are filled with your friends getting to know Soobin. They make good conversation, and Soobin responds well. Yeonjun even grabs a drink for Soobin at some point—“Be careful, he’s got plans to get you super drunk,” Julie joked—and it seems to loosen him up a bit. You just can’t help but notice how quiet Beomgyu is, though.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you announce, patting Soobin’s back as you get up.

You seat yourself on a barstool, tapping your fingers against the bar as you wait for the bartender to come to you. You hum along to the song playing.

“Hello again,” the bartender greets. You shoot your head up and smile. “Same as before?” You’re surprised he remembers your order when there’s so many people here tonight. You guess he’s just good at his job.

“Yes, please,” you say. You go back to humming and tapping to the beat of whatever song the bar is playing. You look back at your table for a second. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves. It makes you happy to see your friends get along with Soobin.

You check your phone for any important messages, but all you received was a bunch of meaningless notifications from various apps. You shove your phone into your purse so you stop looking at it. You’re here to socialize.

A hand lands on your shoulder, prompting you to look back. You were expecting it to be Soobin, but you’re not surprised when you see that it’s Beomgyu. You give him a smile as he takes the stool next to you. You look back at the bartender, and Beomgyu looks behind the two of you at the rest of the people here. Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped around you.

When your drink is handed off to you, you turn your full attention to your friend. “What’s up?” you ask. You swivel your seat so you can face him directly, forcing his arm off you. He leans into the bar, getting—probably too—comfortable.

“I just wanted to see you,” he answers.

“How’s your night going?” You take a sip of your drink, licking your lips after. His eyes follow the movement.

“Alright, I guess,” he says. He looks out to the crowd again.

“You should go dance,” you suggest.

He shakes his head. “I only like dancing with you.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” you tease. He matches your smile before stealing your drink and taking a sip from it. “Oh my god, you and your big ass gulps, all the time,” you reprimand jokingly.

“I barely drank any of it,” he defends with a pout. You laugh and pat his head to summon his lips back upward. It works immediately, of course.

“How’s everyone doing at the table?” you ask.

He shrugs. “They’re having a good time. Soobin talks a lot.” Soobin wasn’t talking that much when you were at the table, so you’re surprised to hear that. Maybe the alcohol started really coursing through his system in the short time you were gone.

“That’s good,” you respond.

“Are you going home with him?” he asks, looking at you with big round eyes. Usually Beomgyu mellows down and laughs a lot when he drinks, but this time he’s a little different.

“With Soobin?” you clarify. He nods. “Probably not. I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Beomgyu says quickly. You laugh.

“Why good?”

“Don’t want him stealing you from me.”

“You’re such a child,” you chuckle. He holds your hand over the table when you let go of your glass. It’s not abnormal for him to be touchy with you, so you don’t question it. He brings your interlocked hands up to his face and leans into them. His face feels warm on the back of your hand.

“Let me know when you wanna head to ours,” Beomgyu says. He’s being cute right now, you can’t help it when you let go of his hand so you can poke his nose. He beams at you.

“Let’s go back to the table,” you say, grabbing your drink and getting out of your seat.

“No, stay here with me.” He’s so needy. You look him up and down, assessing him.

“How much did you drink?” you ask. You swear he only had a couple beers. He ushers you back into your seat with a gentle hand on your hip. “Gyu, I can’t just leave Soobin for the rest of the night.”

“He’s having fun. Don’t mind him.”

“I brought him here though,” you reason.

He sighs, and his eyes lose their sparkle. He turns his head so he’s not facing you anymore. “Fine,” he says.

“You can’t seriously be upset with me for this?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’m not.”

You bite your tongue and decide to leave it at that, even though you know he’s lying. He’s jealous for no reason; it’s not like you’re going to abandon your best friend all because you might have a man in your life. Soobin and you aren’t even anything more than friends right now. You wish you could talk some sense into him, but you don’t want to do that in public.

Beomgyu will wallow alone for the rest of the night if you leave him now. The choice is on you: abandon Soobin at the table, or abandon Beomgyu right here. It’s not like there’s a correct option.

You look at your table. Soobin’s intently listening to Yeonjun as he rambles on about something, while the girls seem to be in a conversation of their own. Does Soobin need you right now? He seems like he’s holding his own. Your eyes fall back to the boy that definitely does.

“Beomgyu,” you call, shaking his shoulder so he’ll look at you. He does. “Let’s go home.” His smile returns immediately.

You already start thinking of what excuse you’ll text Soobin later.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up feeling suffocated by both the tight dress you’re still wearing and by half of Beomgyu’s body weight being sprawled on top of you. Curse him for insisting on watching a movie with you last night—not only is he crushing you now, but your laptop fell off the bed sometime during the night. He better pray it survived the landing. Neither of you even finished the damn movie.

You push him off of you, not caring how hard you do it because of how much of a heavy sleeper he is after he drinks. You sit up and look at yourself in your mirror. Your makeup’s a little smudged, but you don’t look totally crazy. You let yourself wake up for a minute more before sliding off the bed to check on your laptop. The screen lights up with the title card of the movie you watched. Phew. You close the device and stuff it back in the drawer of your nightstand.

You change into comfier clothes and wipe away the mess on your face. You carry on with your morning routine as usual, then lounge on the couch as you wait for Beomgyu to wake up.

The first thing you see on your phone is Soobin’s response to your text from last night. You ended up telling him that Beomgyu wasn’t feeling well, and you had to take him home. That’s not a lie, is it? Beomgyu was definitely not going to be okay if you carried on the night without him. You shake the thought and open Soobin’s text.

[Soobin] Don’t worry about it :) I had a feeling something happened

You didn’t doubt that he’d be understanding. He really is a good person.

You pass the day alongside Beomgyu once he wakes up, hanging with him in his room for most of the day. He plays his games while you go on your phone. You make dinner for the two of you, and Beomgyu cleans the dishes.

You watch him scrub at your plates from your spot at the table. You want to ask him about Soobin, but you’re nervous about him reacting poorly. You don’t want to argue again.

Beomgyu couldn’t be that immature about it though, right? If you just ask him for his opinion on Soobin, it’s not like he can really take offense to that. You’re genuinely curious, and you obviously want his approval on the guy you’re talking to. You bite the bullet and just go for it.

“So, what’d you think of Soobin?” you ask. You’re eager to hear his review, albeit a little nervous. He gives a short laugh in distaste, and your brows scrunch in confusion. “Did you not like him?”

He shuts off the sink and dries his hands after cleaning the last dish, then leans his back on the counter and stares at you with an unreadable expression, which is weird because you can normally tell exactly what he’s thinking.

When he finally responds, his face is just as indecipherable. “I don’t think he’s the right guy for you.”

“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. Maybe you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses, and Beomgyu could see something that you couldn’t.

He sighs, “He was just… giving me bad vibes.”

“How come?” you ask.

“Just a feeling,” he explains. You groan. What a non-answer.

“Well, I think he’s super charming.” He scrunches up his face like you said something disgusting. “Stop being like that,” you scold.

“I can’t help it. It’s gross,” he says.

“Yeah okay. I didn’t say it was gross when I was helping you get a new girl every week,” you mention.

“That was years ago!” Beomgyu whines.

“Still happened.”

“That’s not a fair comparison,” he complains. “And it wasn’t every week.”

“So it’s wrong when I find one guy I like and want to be with?” you question. He groans and crosses his arms.

“Why do you even need a boyfriend right now?” he retorts. “What’s wrong with what we have?”

You pause. What the hell is he on about? Having a friend is very different from having a boyfriend. He’s completely serious, too; his face is stone.

“Um, nothing? I don’t know what that has to do with this…” you answer, unsure. He sighs and makes his way over to you, but never gives you a response.

He picks up your hand and helps you out of your chair. Is this seriously where he’s gonna end the conversation? No, you want a real answer. You’re only being left with more and more questions.

“Don’t bring me back to your room, I want to talk about this,” you say.

“There’s no point,” he responds. He might be right, but you still want to know why he’s acting like this. You take your hand back from his grasp.

“Why don’t you like Soobin?” you ask, more demanding now. You harden your stare on him, but he’s not budging. You cross your arms as you wait for an answer. “Well?”

“Why does the reason matter so much?” he asks back.

“Beomgyu, what the fuck are you saying? Why are you being so secretive?” Anger starts filling your words, you can’t help it. It’s not fair for him to shit on Soobin nonstop without telling you why. If something happened that made him form this opinion, then you want to know.

“Calm down,” he says, and it only serves to upset you further. Before you can bark at him, he continues, “I just don’t think you need to be seeing anyone right now.”

“Why?” you demand.

“Cause you have me!” he exclaims like it’s obvious.

“That’s different!”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says. You tilt your head and look at him incredulously.

“What does that even mean?” you groan.

“What do you want from him? I can give it to you instead,” he pleads. Something’s changing in the air of this conversation, something you’ve been pushing to the back of your mind for your own sanity. Chaewon’s words from yesterday rattle in the cage you mentally locked them in. You push them back, not letting them escape. That’s an impossible and crazy thought.

“Stuff that best friends don’t do with each other,” you answer plainly.

“Why not? We can. Nothing has to change,” he says.

Your head is spinning and you want to sit down. You rub your temples and close your eyes. Everything in your mind is flying by too fast for you to make sense of it. Beomgyu holds one of your shoulders, and you back away instantly.

“I think I’m gonna spend the night at Chaewon’s,” you say, defeated. You feel a serious headache coming on.

“Don’t, please,” he begs. “I’ll talk, I promise.” His eyes are watery now, and it only fuels your stress more. How did you manage to make him cry? What is going on?

“I need to collect my thoughts.” You just want to get out of this now. Beomgyu was right: this conversation was pointless. Now you’re left with more confusion than you know how to deal with.

He quickly gets on his knees in front of you, big eyes pleading to you, hands clasped over his heart. He’s going too far for this right now.

“What is wrong with you?!” you exclaim, half-frightened at the sight of your best friend acting so different in front of you. “What in the world has gotten into you?!”

You try backing away, but he wails immediately and stops you. “No!” he yelps, clinging onto your legs to keep you from moving any further. He leans his tear-soaked face onto your thigh. His skin is warm against yours, and you suddenly regret wearing such tiny shorts. You try moving away again, but your back hits the kitchen counter, and you realize you’re cornered.

“I was here first,” Beomgyu says with conviction, like that justifies his whole argument, like you’ll stop seeing Soobin just because of that.

“Can we talk about this like adults?” you ask. He looks up at you with those watery wide eyes, and you can’t help but feel your heart ache a little. You soothe him with your touch, running a hand through his hair and down his face, collecting his tears. He leans into your touch and wears the most pitiful frown you’ve ever seen.

“Please,” he begs quietly. “You don’t need anyone else, you have me.”

“Gyu, get up,” you say, trying to keep your voice authoritative but gentle.

He doesn’t, of course. “Tell me what to do,” he insists instead.

“I just did.”

He scowls at that and nips at the flesh of your thigh. You jolt in surprise and pull his head back by his hair. He winces in pain for a second, then looks up at you like a puppy.

“Behave,” you warn, and he smiles like he’s getting what he wants.

“I will, I’ll be good, tell me what to do,” he pleads again. He looks delirious off of this. It twists your stomach and makes you release your hold on his hair. He immediately goes back to your thighs, licking a short stripe up it, reaching the hem of your shorts. You gasp as your legs twitch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

“I can’t be doing this,” you say, and Beomgyu rolls his eyes in annoyance. You get another nip to the thigh, harsher this time. “Enough with that,” you tell him, swatting at his head.

“So you get a boyfriend and suddenly I can’t be close to you anymore?” he spits bitterly, angrier now. He stands back up, crowding you with his proximity. You hate how you immediately feel like you have less power. A part of you wants him back on his knees.

“We are still close.”

He scoffs at that. “Yeah right. It’ll be different now and you know it.”

“Well now it’s gonna different, since you put on that whole fucking show!” you argue, swinging an arm out in disbelief.

His brows are drawn together, and he looks at you furiously. “I can’t just sit back and watch another man have you in whatever way he pleases.”

“We’re friends, Beomgyu! That’s it!” you exclaim. You don’t bother correcting his assumption about Soobin ‘having’ you. “No amount of confessions is gonna erase Soobin from my life just like that.”

He clenches his jaw and stares at you silently for a few long seconds. The tension is so palpable and thick, you don’t even dare to breathe. He grabs your wrist and brings you down the hall, into your room. He lays you on your bed with a gentleness that doesn’t match the anger on his face. You know where this is going, you’re not stupid. You should stop this. You need to stop this.

Words get caught in your throat. You should speak, you should yell at him. You should shove him away and put him in his place. This is too far, too much.

You don’t stop him when he crawls onto the bed with you. You don’t stop him when you see the hunger in his eyes as he scans your frame. You wouldn’t stop him no matter what he does right now, your guilty conscience snides.

Your core clenches when Beomgyu brings himself down to hover over you. He remains wordless, just examining your every feature. You’re scared you’ll give away too much and let him in on your desire, but a darker part of your mind hopes that he catches it. Fire builds in your stomach as the moment drags on.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispers. He’s so close that you feel his breath on your face. You stay quiet. He traces up your jaw with the tip of his nose, smiling when your breathing stutters.

He pulls away a bit, just enough to stare at where your hips almost meet. You’d just have to push forward a few inches to close the gap, but you hold back. His hand finds your hip, thumb rubbing you comfortingly.

“Tell me what you need,” he tries again. You bite back a whimper at the deepness of his voice. He laughs at how you still don’t respond. “You this quiet with Soobin too?”

That pisses you off and brings you out of your haze. “No, I give him whatever he wants.” It’s a lie, but you mostly say it to piss him off, and clearly you’ve struck a nerve judging by how he grits his teeth.

“I’m trying to be good for you,” Beomgyu says. He grips onto your waist tight. “I’m showing you I’d do anything for you.”

“Soobin does that just fine,” you say pointedly. Neither of you are amused, and the moment is laced with venom from both sides now.

You gasp when Beomgyu suddenly takes your thighs and pulls them up toward your body, exposing your clothed pussy to him. You try to shut your legs, but Beomgyu’s hold is too strong and doesn’t budge. He smirks when his eyes land on the damp spot over your core.

“Does Soobin make you soak through your shorts like this too?” he taunts. Before you can even think of a smart reply, he’s bending you even further, bringing your knees to the sides of your head. He has you folded firmly in half, and it feels so demeaning, but it makes you so wet. He laughs at the sight of you, slack-jawed and speechless.

You’re fully-clothed but feel so exposed. Your heart is beating erratically. You’re starting to shake from how worked up you are; you ache for him to do something.

“No, he doesn’t, does he?” he continues, and you whine. “You can pretend all you want that he’s the man of your dreams, but you know he’ll never compare to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t respond to that. You’re too far gone in your lust to trust yourself to talk; you’ll end up saying something you regret. Beomgyu finally releases his grip on your legs, and you feel all your arousal leaking out of you as soon as your hips fall back on the bed.

“You don’t wanna tell me what to do? That’s fine. I can read you like a book. I know what you want,” Beomgyu says before grabbing your hand and placing it over your cunt. You immediately grind into it, losing yourself in the stimulation. He smiles deliriously at the sight, running his hands soothingly up your sides. “That’s it, now you’ve got it. Now you’re being good.”

One of his hands leaves you, the other helping to keep your legs spread. When you focus your attention back on him, you see him pulling his dick out and stroking himself. He spits in his hand before wrapping it around his length again, and you moan at the sight. He looks delicious.

His eyes are wild as they try to take in every part of you. It’s hard to keep yours open, but you want to watch him as much as you can. Something like this can never happen again, so you need to take it in.

You work your hand faster over yourself when you see him tug at his length with more fervor. His mouth drops open when he moans. He looks so pretty, making a mess out of himself. The sight is addicting, him panting and kneeling over you. You never thought about him like this before, but now thoughts this lewd will plague you.

“Gyu,” you whine, trying to find the perfect rhythm to get yourself off, but you need more. He senses your urgency and gets his hand off his dick in favor of grabbing your wrist. He plunges your hand past your shorts and panties, guiding it to your core. You gasp at how crude the action is. He bites his lip as he takes your two middle fingers and forces them into your fluttering hole. You moan at the intrusion, which was made so easy thanks to how embarrassingly wet you are. The slick sounds of your cunt fill the air, loud and filthy.

Beomgyu wraps his hand around your wrist again to control your movements, pacing the way you fuck yourself. It feels so scandalous and so hot, you find yourself getting worked up quickly. He makes you fuck yourself with vigor, and the way your palm meets your clit with each thrust has your mouth falling open. You stay in the rhythm he set even as he pulls away to fuck his fist again. His grunts and moans are shameless, and they’re like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty, you’re a dream,” he rambles, clearly teetering on the edge. He squeezes the meat of your thigh, then your hips, then palms your ass. “Are you gonna cum, my angel? Are you gonna let me see how pretty you look when you fall apart?”

“Yes, please,” you answer breathlessly, back arching into the feeling. Beomgyu bites down his smirk and runs his hand down the outside of your thigh.

“Wanna see it so bad, fucking dreamed of this.” You can feel the mattress shake from how hard he’s fucking his fist. His grip is bruising on your thigh, and he moans when he feels you jolt in pleasure. “Yeah, keep fucking yourself like that. So perfect.”

You moan out as you finally cum, clenching down on your fingers and throwing your head back as the sensation takes over you. You hear him whine, and it makes you tighten even more around your fingers, dying to hear it again.

“So good, so good for me,” Beomgyu praises in a shaky voice. You can tell his high is approaching. “Look so b-beautiful.”

“Cum for me, Gyu, let go,” you urge, making him moan out again. You slip your fingers out of your cunt but keep your hand over it, fingers ghosting over your clit as you watch Beomgyu lose himself. The slight overstimulation is delicious, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering at the feeling.

“Have I been good to you?” Beomgyu asks, out of breath as he squeezes the base of his cock. He strokes himself slowly once he regains his composure.

“So good, felt so nice,” you answer, feeling blissful after your orgasm.

“Yeah? Better than Soobin?” he asks, increasing his speed again. You can’t even scold him before his motor mouth starts running again. “Could fuck that little pussy so much better than him. Make you feel so good. Make you forget about him.”

He pushes your shirt up with his free hand, and before you can even react to that, he’s pushing up your bra too. “Oh my god, Beomgyu!” you exclaim, pulling your hand from your pussy to cover your tits. Beomgyu yanks your arm away and brings your fingers to his mouth. You stare at him in shock as he sucks your juices from your digits, diligently swirling his tongue around them. He’s moaning around your fingers, and a second later he’s spilling his load onto your stomach and breasts. Your mouth drops open. He’s got a lot of nerve doing all that; unfortunately for you, it was the hottest thing you have ever seen.

He takes your hand out of his mouth once he’s cleaned your fingers off, whimpering as he rides out the last of his high. He looks down hungrily at your body, taking in the ropes of his cum splayed on your skin. Like the horny freak he is, he sticks his fingers in the mess and smears it all over your torso.

“Gross,” you laugh. He ignores that. He tugs at your nipples with his cum-coated fingers. You yelp at the sensation, and he coos at you. He does it again, and again, until he’s had enough of his fun. He stares into your eyes, and you wish you could crawl away from his heated gaze, it’s that intense. His thumbs return to tease your nipples, but he doesn’t pull his eyes away from your own.

“You’re mine. Never see him again,” Beomgyu declares like it’s final.

“We’re meeting tomorrow,” you respond. He pinches your nipple harshly for that.

“Why? Cancel. Just stay with me,” he offers instead. You try to get up onto your elbows, but Beomgyu pushes you back down against the bed. He continues absentmindedly playing with your tits. He’s practically sitting in your lap to do so.

“…Can you wipe your cum off of me?” you ask, ignoring the conversation at hand.

“But I’m having so much fun.” He pouts. He’s cute like this.

“I let you have enough fun today,” you say with no real bite. He sighs like it will kill him to do so before getting off the bed and leaving for the bathroom. He comes back a minute later with a wet towel, and it’s peacefully quiet as he wipes you down.

“He’s not even really my boyfriend, you know,” you mention, watching his focused face as he rids you of the mess he made.

“Sure,” he laughs bitterly. “Tell him that.”

“We never made anything official,” you say.

“Then why’s he parading around telling everyone how you’re his girl?” Beomgyu asks, giving you a hard stare. You pull your bra and shirt back down once he finishes cleaning you, trying to feel a little more decent. He throws the used towel on the floor and crawls in bed next to you.

You perk up at that. “He is? How do you know?”

He stares straight ahead instead of at you. “You don’t gotta sound so excited.”

“I’m just curious,” you defend.

“Right,” he says, not believing you. “Yesterday at the bar he said it. Multiple times.” Did he? You hold in your gasps and squeals and suppress the urge to kick your feet. Maybe you were too drunk to remember, or maybe Soobin was saying it while you were away from the table. Or maybe Beomgyu’s just psychotic and putting words in Soobin’s mouth.

“Wow,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

A few silent moments pass where you find yourself filling the time by trying to ignore Beomgyu’s stare on you. He turned to his side at some point and seems to find you to be the most interesting thing in the room. You try to focus on your nails, the walls of your room, your disorganized vanity, but nothing lifts his stare from you. You give in and turn your head to him, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well?” you prompt.

“What now?” he asks.

“Now… you get out of my room,” you say, holding eye contact and keeping your expression still. His face falters immediately.

“Are you joking?” he asks incredulously, backing away from you with a scoff, propping himself up on his elbows.

“This shouldn’t have happened, Gyu,” you say with a sigh. You know it hurts him—it hurts you, too—but you can’t do this while you’re seeing Soobin. You’ve already crossed the line.

Beomgyu is silent and unmoving. After a minute, it becomes clear he’s not leaving. You don’t know if it’s out of stubbornness or desperation. He lays back down and curls himself into you, tucking his face in your neck and holding you tight.

“Beomgyu,” you warn, but to no avail. He stays there and nuzzles further into you, and you’re so pathetic that you just let him. A stronger woman than you would have put her foot down, but that kind of power doesn’t find you in this moment.

Another long minute passes, consisting of you staring straight at the ceiling, listening to your combined breathing. You think of how Soobin would feel if he found out about this. How are you going to look him in the eye tomorrow? Do you tell him about this? Is it wrong to keep it a secret?

You try to pull away from Beomgyu, but he doesn’t let you move. “Please, Beom—“

“Stop,” he murmurs, putting his hand over your mouth just long enough to get you to stop talking. “Let me have this one night. He gets you every other time.”

You can’t help but feel a little aggravated at that. “Because he’s the one I’m seeing! This is wrong!”

“What’s wrong is you looking for other men when I’m right here,” he says with finality. When you don’t respond, he continues, “So let’s just go to sleep.”

You decide to let him win this time, telling yourself that this will never happen again. Sleep doesn’t find you easily with the guilt eating you alive, but it does feel kind of nice to have Beomgyu hugging you like this again.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you wake up, Beomgyu’s already gone. You let out a sigh of relief. You feel bad for not wanting to see him, but you know that last night changed things. There’s a conversation that needs to be had that you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You sit up and stretch, then check the time and notice that it’s already nearly 10. Your eyes go wide, horrified—you’re supposed to see Soobin at 10! You have less than twenty minutes to get ready!

You leap out of bed and run to your closet, looking for a cute dress to throw on cause you have no time to curate an outfit. Once you have the dress selected, you hold it in front of you in the mirror. The fabric is super soft and looks casual enough while still being pretty. The light color of it looks great on you, too.

You don’t have enough time to linger on your options, so you go with it. You fold the dress and run to the bathroom to finish freshening up and getting ready. You need to take the quickest shower of your life.

You’re rushing out the door once everything’s complete, cursing at yourself as you check the time. It’s already ten minutes past. You shoot him a text as you scramble down your apartment’s stairs.

Hey! I’m gonna be a bit late, leaving now

Forgot to set an alarm, my bad

Wait for meeee

You shove your phone in your jacket pocket and speed walk down the street. You’re lucky enough to live near the heart of the city, so everything is at walking distance. You’re halfway to the cafe when you feel your phone buzz with a response.

[Soobin] No worries. I’m waiting :)

[Soobin] Gives your coffee some time to cool down

You smile at the response. Of course he already bought your coffee. Of course he memorized your order. It’s Soobin, he’s the most thoughtful guy you’ve ever known. Your phone buzzes with another text notification. This time it’s Beomgyu.

[Beomgyu] omg where’d you go i got stuff for breakfast!!!

Your heart squeezes at the prospect. You rush to type out your responses.

I said I was meeting Soobin today

I’m sorry

Brunch?

You slow down your walking, finding yourself nearing the destination too quickly. You just want to get Beomgyu’s response before seeing Soobin. Your phone buzzes when he replies.

[Beomgyu] hmm.. ok brunch

You don’t find yourself excited, though. You guys do things like this all the time, but now you’re just nervous. It makes your stomach churn with anxiety. You know things have changed. Even if he acts like nothing happened, you both know something did.

You shove your phone into your pocket when you arrive at the cute little cat cafe. You wipe the sweat off your palms before opening the door. You try collecting yourself before looking for Soobin, who’s sitting at a small table near the front of the shop. You smile when you see him, but it’s only half-genuine; the other half of your mind is busy trying to push down your worries about Beomgyu.

You seat yourself across from Soobin, who smiles widely and fully-genuinely at you. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” you apologize. “Thank you for the coffee.”

His smile stays on his face as he watches you grab the cup and feel for its temperature. “It should be good to drink now,” he says. “I had company, the cats were coming to me.”

You laugh before taking a sip of your coffee. It’s the best thing in the world, you’re grateful he got it in advance for you. The hot drink eases your mind a bit. You look around the cafe until you spot a cat. It’s a fluffy black and white one, perusing around lazily.

“That one is so mean, don’t pet it,” Soobin says, following your gaze. He brings your attention to a different cat with a pointed finger. “The orange one sunbathing there is the best.”

“Oh yeah? You’re an orange cat fan?” you ask.

“I think you’d like that one,” he says. As if the cat could hear that, it gets up and starts walking toward you.

“Look at you, cat whisperer,” you joke. The way his face scrunches when he laughs makes your heart flutter. The orange cat brushes up against your legs when it finds you, and you immediately coo at it. “Hello, sweetie! Can I pet you?” you say, bringing down your hand for it to accept. The cat rubs its head against you, and you pet it lovingly.

“So you’re more of a cat person?” he asks. You look up from the cat to pay attention to him.

“I like all animals,” you say.

“What’s your favorite?”

You think for a second. “Should I say bunnies because you look like one?” you giggle.

“That’s a good answer,” he laughs with you.

“What would have been a bad answer?”

He looks up in thought and leans his face on his palm. “Maybe a mole or something?”

“Hey, I like moles,” you say.

“You like all animals.”

“What a good listener.”

“It’d be a little sad if I forgot something you said just a minute ago,” he responds.

“Men are like that,” you joke. You feel your phone buzzing with a call notification. “Sorry, let me check this.”

Why the hell is Beomgyu calling you?! You told him you were with—you roll your eyes. That’s why he’s calling you. He’s so petty and childish. You shove your phone back in your pocket.

“No one important?” Soobin asks.

“It’s Beomgyu,” you answer.

“Ah, you should answer then,” he reasons.

“I’m sure it can wait,” you dismiss.

“I need to go to the bathroom anyway, you can call while I go.” He smiles as he gets up.

You don’t really want to, but as you watch him walk away, you’re stuck sitting alone with nothing better to do. With a sigh, you unlock your phone and open your messages with Beomgyu.

What’s up

His response is immediate.

[Beomgyu] when are u coming back

You hold your head and groan at his antics. It’s been ten minutes and he’s acting like you’ve been gone ten days.

Whenever we’re done

Maybe an hour

He calls you again. Reluctantly, you answer. “What?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he says.

“No, you just want my attention. It’s one hour, I think you’ll live.”

“I think I won’t,” he counters. So annoying. You find yourself laughing for some reason, though. You see Soobin coming back, and you quickly fix your posture and tuck your hair back. That was fast.

“I gotta go,” you say abruptly. Beomgyu doesn’t get a word in before you hang up. He texts you his final words instead.

[Beomgyu] UR SO MEAN

Soobin sits back down in front of you. “What’d he say?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” you answer.

Soobin laughs. “Is that usual for him?”

“Always,” you groan.

After a moment, Soobin finds a new topic. “So what kept you up so late that you slept in so much?”

You freeze at the question. You have all of one second to decide if you’re going to spill the truth, or if you’re about to lie to his face. It would be the right thing to do to be honest with him…

“Beomgyu and I were hanging out,” you decide on saying. It’s technically true, but it feels like a cover-up rolling off your tongue.

You try to reason with yourself. You didn’t have sex. You got yourself off, with your own hand, and you didn’t touch him at all. The most he did was a little titty touching… so what? That’s so high school. It doesn’t even count.

You wonder if it would fool Soobin, cause it’s not fooling you.

“Oh, must’ve been fun then,” Soobin says. “Hopefully you can catch up on some sleep tonight.”

He’s so kind. You feel so gross. You don’t deserve him. Your smile doesn’t meet your eyes.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Soobin asks.

“I’m doing brunch with Beomgyu after this,” you answer.

“Wow, you spend a lot of time with him,” he comments. You don’t know why you feel a little offended at that.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since our senior year of high school. We moved to the city together, so we’re roommates.”

“Must be nice. I came here alone, so it was a little hard at first,” Soobin says.

“How so?” You’re honestly glad to shift the questions towards him for a bit. You like learning about him, and you hate how you always seem to end up talking about Beomgyu.

“I’m really shy, so making friends took a long time,” Soobin answers. “I’ve been here a few years now, though, so I made a decent community.”

“That’s nice. What’d you think of my friends on Friday?” you ask. “I heard you get chatty when you drink.”

He laughs and scratches his neck shyly. “Your friends were nice. I don’t think Beomgyu was very interested in talking to me though.”

You conceal your groan. Why does it keep coming back to Beomgyu?! You wish last night never happened so you could feel normal about this conversation. Even then, though, it wouldn’t erase how Beomgyu acted before that.

“Yeah, I don’t know, I’m sorry. Must’ve caught him on a bad day,” you excuse.

“Maybe. He seemed fine talking to you, though…” he mumbles, and you can tell that it’s bothering him. Now you really feel like shit. Any attempt you make to comfort him would be a lie after what you let happen between you two.

You grab Soobin’s hand, making his head pop up from where he was looking down all sullenly. “Thank you for coming that night. It means a lot that you met my friends,” you say. That puts a smile back on his face.

“Guess I gotta introduce you to mine now,” he says.

“I’d love that!”

“I’ll plan a day. How busy are you this month?” he asks.

“Not super,” you answer. You go on to ask about his friends, listening to him as diligently as you can while ignoring your phone buzzing in your pocket with text after text. You can guess who they’re from.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get back home, you find Beomgyu already near the door waiting. He lights up, but you’re not amused.

“That texting and calling shit needs to stop,” you say, looking him dead in the eye.

He pouts and points at the table. “I made us food. It was gonna get cold.” You look at the table. He set up the dishes all cute, with plates of meats and pancakes in the middle alongside a bowl of berries. You sigh.

“We could’ve made it together when I came back,” you mention, but the fight leaves your voice. You wish you weren’t so endeared by him. You’re so weak, it makes you curse at yourself in your head. You sit at the table and pile some food onto your plate. He sits across from you and does the same.

You’re not sure what to talk about. You feel your skin heating up as you remember what happened the last time you were with Beomgyu. He must be thinking about it too. Maybe arguing about Soobin would be better than dealing with the awkwardness you feel right now.

You take a quick glance at him. He’s smiling and swaying around as he chomps down on his food. If he notices your discomfort, you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. You try to focus on your food instead of him as much as you can.

Usually Beomgyu is the only person you feel like you can do anything around, but right now you’re second guessing every little thing you do. Did you stare at him too long? Should you not check your phone right now? Where should you be looking? Does he know you’re overthinking this right now?

“I hope this is better than whatever you just did with Soobin,” he says, breaking the silence. You stop eating for a second to give him a disapproving glare. That’s one way to cut through your thoughts.

“You need to stop being so jealous,” you say. His neediness is being turned up to 100, and you don’t know how to deal with it. Whatever he thinks he’s doing is only going to drive you away from him.

“Well, I have to fight for your attention now,” he explains. You roll your eyes.

“No you don’t, I still spend most of my time with you.” It’s ridiculous that he thinks you’d just drop him like that. You literally live with him, you can’t avoid him. His insecurities are getting the best of him, and it’s changing your relationship with him.

“But soon you’ll spend it all with him, and I’ll have no one,” he says like he can see it all already. Gosh, seriously? His brows are upturned and the slightest frown mars his face. Why must he try to break your heart?

“Where’d you get that idea? I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always be the most important person in my life,” you reassure him. He looks down like he can’t stand to make eye contact anymore. His shoulders slump.

“I just have to make sure you don’t forget me,” he mutters. He keeps his eyes down. You sigh.

“I won't forget you. Can’t you just trust me? I’m telling you you’ll always be my number one. What more do you want to hear?” you ask.

He meets your eyes again. They still look sad. His lack of response puzzles you; he always has so much to say. You stay staring at each other for what feels like an eternity, until you pull your gaze away, unable to handle it.

You know you’re not in the wrong here. It’s not abandonment to just see another guy. He looked so pitiful, though. It would’ve hurt less to see him get angry and yell at you. He can’t really help how he feels, and you suppose it is a big change. What does he want you to do, though? Well, stop seeing Soobin. But you’re not going to do that.

You go to your room without another word, needing to leave his presence. It murks your mind and leaves you unable to think clearly. You text Chaewon to come over when she’s free. You just need to get your mind off of whatever’s developing between you and Beomgyu.

When her knock sounds at your door hours later, you run to open it, excited to finally talk to someone who won’t give you a headache. She holds up a grocery bag full of your favorite snacks, smiling ear to ear. You make a mental note to splurge for her next birthday; she always treats you so well.

You usher her to the couch and offer her a drink. She turns on the television and finds something to play in the background. Once you’re both situated, you open one of the snack bags and throw a blanket over the two of you.

“What did you do this weekend?” you ask her.

She doesn’t look away from the television when she answers, “Julie and I went to a spa.”

“Oh my god, and you didn’t invite me?!” you say in faux offense, although you definitely would have liked to go.

She laughs and points at the bag of food in your lap. “I made up for it with those.”

“You still owe me a day out,” you joke.

“I know, I’m thinking we’ll go to an amusement park in the spring. You down?” she asks.

“Oh, for sure,” you confirm. You go quiet for a bit, captured by the show Chaewon put on. The two of you make your own commentary on the characters and their decisions. You share looks when something crazy happens, and burst out laughing when Chaewon’s prediction about one of the plot lines comes true.

This is the stress relief you needed. You already feel lighter and happier. Good thing you asked Chaewon to come over. During a commercial break, Chaewon turns to you.

“Okay, I have to ask, how are things with Soobin?” Chaewon asks. The question doesn’t irk you, partially because it’s not Beomgyu asking it, but mostly because Chaewon put you in a better mood.

“It’s going good with him,” you say. You look down the hall to make sure Beomgyu’s door is shut. Talking to Chaewon about this might actually clear things up for you. She always has good advice.

“Tell me more,” she prompts, leaning in with a grin.

“Well, we went to a cafe today”—Chaewon cuts you off with a delighted ooooo—“and it went really well. He wants me to meet his friends next.”

Chaewon gasps. “You’re halfway into boyfriend territory now!��

Ugh. “About that…” you start.

“Uh oh,” Chaewon lets out.

“I really, really like Soobin, it’s just”—you shut up immediately once you hear Beomgyu’s door open. There’s no way he heard you, not unless he was intentionally listening in, and if he did, is he ballsy enough to come out and argue with you now? With Chaewon right here? You hold your breath.

He walks into the kitchen, and you let yourself breathe again. You watch him carefully. He opens the fridge. It’s a little early for dinner, so he’s probably just looking for a drink or a snack.

“Hey! Talk to me about that sexy tall man!” Chaewon says, bringing your attention back to her. You laugh nervously.

“Let’s talk about you, actually,” you say in attempt to shift the conversation. “How was your spa day with Julie?”

“We had fun, but it was nothing more important than Soobin updates!” she assures. She’s talking so loud, you flinch thinking about Beomgyu listening in.

“I don’t think we should talk about him right now,” you say, eyeing Beomgyu’s figure in the kitchen. You release your breath when you notice he’s still distracted in his search through the fridge.

“Girl… what,” Chaewon deadpans, following your gaze. She looks back at you, brows scrunched. You share a glance, and she puts two and two together. “You’re kidding me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

“He is so ridiculous,” Chaewon complains, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I know, but I can’t talk about it right now. Later, please,” you continue in a hushed voice. Beomgyu settles on an energy drink, closing the fridge and advancing toward the two of you. You pray Chaewon drops it.

“Hey Chaewon. Whatcha guys up to?” he asks as he lingers by where you sit on the couch. You look to Chaewon with pleading eyes. Hers are unamused and disappointed.

“Just talking,” she answers, her voice lacking any emotion. Beomgyu nods.

“Cool. What’s on TV?” he asks.

“Some crime show Chaewon likes,” you respond. It’s quiet for a minute, and you’re trying not to feel antsy. Beomgyu definitely didn’t hear your conversation about Soobin, but you can’t shake the reaction Chaewon had. You were just about to tell her how Beomgyu’s been acting, but now the conversation will have to wait.

When Beomgyu takes a seat next to you, you know that you won’t be able to talk to Chaewon about Soobin until the next time you see her. He puts his arm on the couch behind you and gets himself comfortable. It’s not like you’re going to ask him to leave, so you just lean into his side. You might as well make use of his warmth.

The three of you watch a couple more episodes of Chaewon’s show, and after some time your anxiety leaves you. It feels like a normal hang out, not like you’re in between your best friend you just got intimate with and your other best friend who has no clue.

“Are you having dinner here?” you ask Chaewon. She shakes her head.

“I think I’m gonna head out now, actually. I’ve got a few things to do,” she says. She gets off the couch. “But you need to come over tomorrow, ‘kay?” She points at you. You already know it’s because she wants to finish the conversation you started before Beomgyu came in. It must’ve been pestering her mind.

“I will,” you say. You get up from the couch to hug her. “Thanks for coming over.” You walk with her to your door.

“Love you, see you tomorrow!” she exclaims, waving.

“Love you too!!” You wave back.

Once Chaewon’s out the door, you return to Beomgyu on the couch. You lean your head on the armrest and fold your legs so they’re not resting on Beomgyu.

“I don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” you complain. He laughs.

“When do you ever?” he asks.

“Fridays, cause there’s donuts,” you answer. He tugs on your legs to pull you closer to him. Your shirt rolls up a bit as he drags you down the couch, but he fixes it for you.

“Call out sick or something,” he suggests.

You groan, “I only get, like, seven sick days.”

“You should skip and we should go to the shopping center.” You hit his chest with your knee at his offer. He smiles down at you.

“The difference in maturity levels between us is crazy,” you say.

“I keep you young,” he jokes.

“Bitch, we’re the same age.” You hit his chest again.

Your phone buzzes on the table in front of you, but before you can sit up to check the notification, Beomgyu flips the device so it’s facing down.

“Who texted me?” you ask.

“No one,” he answers. “What do you want for dinner?”

You hum in thought. “I’m not really hungry honestly. I filled up on Chaewon’s snacks.”

“Same.” It falls silent, so you grab your phone and finally check your notifications.

“You liar, you said no one texted me,” you say, reading your text notification from Soobin.

He wears a mischievous smile. “Oops. Must’ve read it wrong.”

“Yeah right,” you say. You open your phone, going to respond to Soobin until Beomgyu takes your phone from your hands. “Hey!”

He shuts off your phone and puts it in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Talk to me instead of going on your phone.” You scowl at him, who looks back at you with a teasing grin. Asshole.

“Give me back my phone,” you order, hand reaching out for him to place it in. Instead, he takes you by the hand and drags you into his lap, laughing when you yelp.

“Why don’t you take it?” he offers, looking down at his pelvis.

“I’m not digging in your pants to get my phone back,” you say.

“Will you dig in my pants for other reasons?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You bite down your smile and smack his arm.

“You wish, freak.”

He snickers, running his hands up your arms. “I do wish.”

You’re acutely aware of the tension starting to build in the room, and you can’t deny how you’re getting excited in the heat of the moment. This is innocent enough, right? You’re just being playful with each other. Just because you’re starting to feel a little worked up doesn’t mean you’ll act on it.

You move your hand slowly down his chest, traveling down his torso, making your way down to the pocket of his sweatpants. He stares at you with big dumb eyes, and you hold back your laughter. You pry open his pocket, sliding your hand in and retrieving your phone, letting the weight of it drag across his thigh as you pull it out from the fabric.

“Got it,” you whisper, a winning smile on your face. You throw your phone behind you on the couch. You don’t know why you don’t move from your position, though. Maybe it’s the satisfaction you feel at watching his mouth fall just the tiniest bit open at your actions.

His hands grab your waist, thumbs lifting up your shirt just the tiniest bit, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He brings you forward on his lap, moving you even closer to him, and your eyes widen when you feel his half-hard length beneath you.

“Gyu?” you say, searching his eyes. He looks drunk off this moment, and he doesn’t bother to hide his lust. It’s evident all over his face, from his lidded eyes to his bitten lip. “Maybe we should”—

“Do you wanna ride me like this?” he interrupts, hands moving to your hips so he can guide them into a slow grind. You gasp at the sensation, not realizing how aroused you’d gotten. You feel him hardening below you the more you sway your hips over him. You feel dizzy.

You drop your head in his neck and let out a shaky exhale, letting him control your movements. God, this is so wrong. You’re doing this again? You’re really bad at keeping your own promises. But fuck, when your clit catches on the head of his cock, even through all the clothes, it feels like heaven. You can’t even think about how you should stop.

He slides your hair to one side of your neck and kisses the side he bared. “Good girl,” he praises, keeping your hips in a slow rhythm that has your brain malfunctioning. You whine, and your thighs twitch and tighten around him.

Beomgyu’s rock hard now, and you wish he didn’t feel so sinfully good. He presses his hips further up against you, and the added pressure makes you moan out before you can hold it back. He laughs and scatters wet kisses onto your neck.

“Look at you,” he says, voice so low it makes you shiver. “Pretty little thing getting herself off on my lap, creaming her pants for me. Cute girl.” He hastens your rhythm for you and holds you down tighter against him. You gasp and cling onto his shirt.

“Gyu, Gyu, please,” you stammer, feeling your high approaching.

“I know, sweet girl.” He matches your rhythm with his own hips now, making your toes curl.

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe out, moving yourself even faster over him, losing yourself as you chase your orgasm.

“Yes, fuck, cum for me, I need to see it,” he insists, watching you spasm and shake over him. He moans out at the sight, and the sound is what brings you over the edge. You feel his dick twitch as you ride out your high, and you realize he came in his pants too. The thought makes your head spin.

You slow down as you begin to come down, holding his face in your hands. You wear a dopey smile, and he looks just as fucked out. You’d like to ruin him one day, to see him beg for pleasure and get more than what he can take. He has a pretty face for things like that.

Your hips still over him completely, and Beomgyu connects his mouth to your jaw. He sucks on your skin there, and you push his head away. “No marks,” you tell him. He nods quickly and goes back to licking and kissing and sucking your skin.

He trails his kisses down to your neck, lapping at every inch of skin he has access to. He’s messy with his tongue, coating you in his saliva. It’s so filthy, but it has your core pulsing again. You don’t know why he has this effect on you.

You jolt when you feel his teeth on your neck, biting down and sucking hard. It makes your hips push forward, and he moans against you. You’re not too far gone to let him get away with that, at least.

“Are you serious?” you scold, pulling Beomgyu away by his hair. He kisses your cheek, just barely missing your lips. You gasp, flustered.

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, breathlessly. He lays you down on the couch and lifts up your shirt and bra. He decides to connect his mouth to what he reveals there instead. He swirls his tongue around your nipple and sucks, squeezing and fondling your other tit with a hungry hand. You whine out when he just barely scrapes his teeth against the bud, fueling the heat in your core. He switches sides so that he can suck your other breast, delivering wet kisses to it.

His free hand travels up your thigh and stops just inches from your cunt. He swipes his thumb lazily over your inner thigh, so close you can feel it ghost your center. It’s getting you desperate for relief. You close your thighs around his hand, and it brings him right to your core. He moans against your chest at the collision. You wonder if he can feel your wetness through your thin pajama pants.

He rubs his hand against your cunt, moving slow enough to keep you wanting more. He detaches his mouth from you and stares at how your hips gyrate against him. He bites his lip and presses his fingertips harder against you, teasing your entrance through your clothes.

“Oh my god,” you moan, throwing your head back.

“Fuck, let me finger you,” he insists, bringing a thumb to your clit. Your head is spinning from the pleasure. “I need to, I’ve got to feel you.” You feel his bulge on your thigh, heavy and hard. You cry out. You feel your moral ground starting to slip.

“Take off my pants,” you instruct. “Just those.”

He rushes to follow through. Your pants are on the floor in an instant, and his hand is right back on you. He drops his head into your neck when he feels you this time.

“You’re drenched,” he moans. He runs his index finger through your folds over the cloth, so soaked through that he can feel the outline of your pussy perfectly. He pushes his index finger just barely into your hole, watching your panties scrunch up into it.

“Gyu!” you yelp.

“Let me, let me, let me,” he pleads, jamming his finger just a touch further. Your hands wrap around his arm, needing purchase on something. “You want to cum so bad, right? You want to feel good?”

“What do you want?” you ask back.

“To make you take whatever I give,” he answers. Your entrance flutters over his finger at that. “So let me take these off,” he says, pulling his hand away to snap your waistband.

You feel your sanity leave you. You need that pressure back in your cunt. His eyes are dark and blown out. He pulls your panties down just barely, letting them sit below your hip bones, your center still covered. He’s agonizingly slow as he pulls further and further, not daring to reveal your cunt until you say so.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Beomgyu whispers.

He’s the one driving you crazy. Your mind is completely fogged over. You’ve been turned into some kind of lust-drunk whore, seeing as you can’t focus on anything but him if you tried.

“Take them off,” you finally give in. You pulse and ache where you need him most. Beomgyu wastes no time when he pulls your panties off and away, and the first thing he does is hold your legs wide open and stare at your pussy.

“So perfect and slutty for me,” he says in his deep voice. “Gonna make this little pussy all mine.”

You whine at his words, thighs twitching and trying to close. You need him to do something, you need him to fill you. Your hole clenches over nothing, the emptiness starting to kill you. Beomgyu bites his lip and watches as your arousal leaks from you.

“You’re so cute, maybe I should just keep you like this,” he muses, laughing when you cry out and shake your head. “No? But I love watching this sweet cunt leak for me. You’re dripping like a whore.”

You arch your back, push your hips out, do anything you can, but he still doesn’t relieve you. You try to bring your own hand down to your pussy, but Beomgyu grabs it and pushes it back against the couch by your head.

“Please touch me!” you plead, desperate beyond belief. You might even start crying.

“Aww, my baby needs me,” he coos, soothing his hands up your thighs. “My pretty girl needs me, only me.” Finally, his fingers find your clit. You melt into the feeling, sighing in relief. Your hips twitch closer to his hand, making sure he won’t leave.

“Thank you,” you moan. Beomgyu holds your face with his free hand, staring into your teary eyes.

“Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you need,” he says, voice soft. He dips a finger into your cunt, stopping once he’s knuckle-deep. He fucks his finger into you slowly, and you sigh at the relief. He watches his finger sink into you, humming in pleasure when he sees how it collects your wetness.

His actions pull soft moans from your mouth, but you can’t bring yourself to conceal them. It’s not like you need to be embarrassed anyway, seeing how much Beomgyu loves your reactions. You get sick of his slow pace after a while, trying to ride his finger faster.

“More?” he asks. He inserts a second finger into you. The stretch feels like heaven, you crave to be stuffed by him.

“Yes! I need it,” you exclaim. He picks up the pace a little. “Thank you, thank you..!” He laughs a little and leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You’re so nice to me right now,” he notes with a smile, fucking you faster on his fingers in appreciation. “This is how you should always be.” You pay no mind to the wet squelches your pussy makes as he pistons into you. Your stomach muscles clench as you feel yourself getting closer.

He starts curling his fingers inside of you, and it doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for. You arch your back and yelp at the sensation of him pressing against the spongy part inside of you. He grins and keeps thrusting against that spot, watching your reactions with amused eyes. His head moves down between your thighs, biting and sucking at all the flesh his mouth can find, then wraps his lips around your clit once he grows tired of marking you.

“Ah! Gyu! That’s—mmh,” you sputter, rolling your hips up into the feeling. It’s so much. He pushes his fingers into you harder, deeper, with more purpose. He toys with your clit using his tongue, swiping and flicking it while he sucks. You’re right there and he knows it, doubling his efforts.

The pleasure takes you under, and you cum with a cry. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at the strands. It makes him moan, and the vibrations fuel your orgasm. He’s hungry for it, fingers coaxing as much of your cum as he can get out of you. He doesn’t give up his pace even as you start to come down, fog clearing from your mind.

“That’s enough,” you say, trying to push his head away. His mouth leaves you for all of one second before he latches himself back on. “Beomgyu, I already—fuck!” He sucks harder now and hooks his fingers harshly into you to rub right against a spot that has you seeing stars. He only pulls his fingers out long enough to push a third one in, pressing right back where he was.

You gasp, pulling his hair again, needing something to keep you in reality cause you feel like you’re about to slip. You shake and twitch with overstimulation, but Beomgyu doesn’t care. It’s like he hasn’t gotten his fill yet. He’s careless with how he breaks you, paying no mind to your body’s limits.

Your orgasm builds up and hits you quickly thanks to Beomgyu’s determination. Your thighs clamp around his face, but that doesn’t stop him. You whine and mewl as Beomgyu feasts on your arousal. Your poor pussy clenches hard around his three fingers, so much he can’t even thrust them anymore, so he curls his fingers rapidly inside you instead. Your cum pools out of you and onto his hand, your juices dripping out of you uncontrollably.

He pulls away, panting, staring at your pussy. He licks a stripe up it, then goes back down to circle his tongue around your entrance. You whimper and push his head away. He meets your eyes, and his dark gaze softens when he sees your teary ones.

“Can’t you just take a little more?” he asks. His eyes don’t leave yours as he nibbles and sucks on your thigh. You shake your head and push his face away again. With a pout, he rises back up so his face is hovering over yours. You don’t know why fondness overcomes you when you’re staring at him, but the feeling isn’t entirely unwelcome.

“You’re so good,” you say, cupping his face and giggling. He leans his face into your neck, and you can feel his shy smile form against your skin. He comes back up with stars in his eyes.

You want to kiss him, and the thought scares you because you’ve never wanted that before. The feeling is so overpowering that you have to look away. You try to find interest in the wall, but Beomgyu’s movement makes you turn your head back to him. He leans back to admire you.

He smirks at the sight of your thighs, prompting you to look down at them too. Your eyes widen in horror at all the marks he sucked onto them. He pats your leg with a happy grin on his face. “No more short skirts around him,” he says. What a little shit.

“Beomgyu!” you scold. Dignity finds you and forces you to sit up and reach for your clothes on the floor. Before you can grab anything, Beomgyu’s placing you in his lap and holding your face much too close to his. His hips jut up into yours, and you gasp upon feeling his erection. Of course he’s hard again.

“I still need you,” he whines. “Please, don’t go yet.” You pull your face away from him, so he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. His puppy eyes are so sweet and pitiful, you have no choice but to stay. One sad look from him is all it takes for him to get whatever he wants from you. You’re weak.

“I-I’m still sensitive,” you say as he grinds into you. He grips your hips hard, keeping you in place so you have no choice but to take it. You can already see your juices on his sweatpants, leaving a damp mark right over his cock.

“Yeah?” he asks, half-breathless. It’s like he’s not even listening to you, too focused on humping you like a bitch in heat.

“Yes, slow down.” He drops his head on your shoulder and pants heavily, not slowing down at all. You’re buzzing in overstimulation, legs twitching uncontrollably. His hands are shameless as they try to grab at every part of you. He squeezes your hips, your waist, your tits. His tongue is warm on your skin as it trails up to your ear, where he bites down and sucks.

He pushes himself further against you, giving you no space and no chance to leave. He wraps his arms around you and pistons his hips like he’s actually fucking you.

You gasp, “G-Gyu! Stop being bad!” You tug his hair, forcing his head back. His mouth drops open, and he stares at you through lidded eyes. Lust has possessed him, and your words only fuel him.

“Then punish me,” he says. You pull his hair harder, forcing his head back as far as you can, and suck on his neck. He moans louder than you’ve ever heard from him before, and his hips stutter in their rhythm. His hands keep you pressed against him as close as you can get. You moan when you feel his dick twitch through his clothes. For a second, you wonder how it would feel inside of you, but you shove that thought to the back of your mind.

You detach yourself from his throat and watch his face twist up from the pleasure. You look down to see the cum stains on his pants, giggling at the sight. Your hips jerk, and he gasps at the sensation.

Your eyes land on the mark you sucked into his neck. It’s darker than the ones he plastered all over your thighs. You want to feel ashamed or appalled for leaving that on him, but all you feel is some sort of satisfaction. You let your body fall limp against him, sinking into his hold and laying your head on his chest. His hands run to soothe you, brushing through your hair and rubbing your back.

You avoid asking questions. You avoid talking at all. You don’t want to know what this is or what it means, you just want to bask in the afterglow of whatever this is. The unpacking part of this will be a problem for future you.

Even if you hate yourself for this tomorrow, you can’t think of anything better than Beomgyu’s embrace on you now. You’ve already crossed so many lines with him, adding a few more won’t hurt. You find yourself wondering what things you’d like to do with Beomgyu next.

You lean back to stare at his face. His smile is blissful and lazy. You can’t pull your eyes from his lips. Even in the middle of winter, they still look so soft. You wonder what it would feel like to run your tongue over them, or how they would feel wrapped around your fingers. Would they be carnal and unforgiving against your own, or would his lips find yours in a sweet, gentle kiss?

You feel his hand on the back of your head. He’s pulling you closer, and you panic. You tilt your head so that your lips find his jaw instead of his mouth. You pull away after planting a little kiss there. Your gaze flits down his face for just a few seconds before you lean in to place another kiss on his jaw, a little higher than the last, lingering a little longer.

“A real one now,” he requests, eyes pleading and hands resting on your neck. You peck his nose, then his cheek, then his other cheek. He holds your face still and whispers your name. You share the most intense stare you’ve felt in your life.

You close the gap and let your lips touch for just one second. It’s soft and simple, and it’s enough to satisfy your curiosity, but Beomgyu has to come back for more. His lips feel so nice, they were made to be kissed. His fingers dig into your hair, desperate, clinging to you as if you’ll slip away from him. His kiss is hungry, like he wants to consume you, like he’s trying to find a way to your soul through your mouth.

You use both your hands on his chest to push him away, and when you succeed, you stare at him with wide eyes. You’re trying to get your breathing back under control. His face is flushed.

“Please, you can’t go back to Soobin after that,” he begs. The fragile glass holding this moment together breaks, and your sense crashes back over you immediately. Shit, you forgot about Soobin. How could you have forgotten about Soobin?!

You pull yourself out of his lap and stare at your best friend with horrified, blown-out eyes. What the fuck? What did you just do? You have to tell Soobin, you have no choice now. Next time you see him, you’re going to spill everything that’s happened with you and Beomgyu. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair to him.

“Gyu… I’m so, so sorry,” you apologize getting off the couch slowly, putting on your clothes. How do you save this? How do you stop yourself from breaking both Soobin’s trust and Beomgyu’s heart? There has to be a way to salvage this. There has to be a way to make this okay.

“Why?” He shoots up, holding your arms so you stay. “Why would you be sorry?” He shakes his head like he’s not understanding, but his eyes tell you that he knows. He knows you’re going to try to stop this again. What will he do to prevent you this time?

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you whisper. You can’t even look him in the eye.

His disappointment only shows for a second before it’s overcome by need. A need to stop you from leaving, a need to show you that he’s yours, a need to prove himself to you—you know it all already, it’s happened so many times before. You can’t give in. Not again. Not after you let him get this far. If you allow this, what else will you let him do?

His hands are shaking as they cup your face. When you meet his eyes, you see tears already falling from them. You hate it. You hate it so much, how you’re always the cause of them. You’re always finding new spots to put your knife, slower ways to kill him. You know it by now; you know he’ll be hurt, but you do it time and time again, and you never learn your lesson.

This time it will change. This time you have to mean it.

“Stop making this so hard…” you say, hushed, as you wipe his tears from his face.

“I can’t leave you alone,” he insists. “You don’t get it. It’ll kill me.” He turns his face to kiss your palm. You try to pull your hand away, but he catches your arm and brings your wrist to his mouth, kissing you gently over your pulse point.

Why does your heart race? Why does your breath catch? He keeps finding new ways to fluster and confuse you, and all this just to make sure you don’t leave him for Soobin. You don’t know what’s more pathetic: the fact that he keeps doing this, or the fact that it keeps working.

You smooth your hand down his neck and rest it on his shoulder. “Just go to sleep,” you tell him softly.

“Come with me. Don’t make me go to bed alone after this.” He looks so cute and hopeful, you almost give in. You tighten your lips and place a parting pat on his chest.

“Good night,” you say before walking to your bedroom. He must know better than to follow, because he doesn’t. You try to ignore how your bed suddenly feels so big and empty.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Tell me everything, girl,” Chaewon says as soon as you settle onto her bed with her. You rushed over to her place after work, needing to debrief her on whatever has been going on between you and Beomgyu.

“First promise me that you won’t hate me,” you start.

“Oh, this is how I know it’s gonna be good,” she chuckles.

“Promise me!” you repeat, clutching onto her legs and locking eyes with her.

“I promise!” You lean back and let out a dramatic sigh, preparing yourself for your recap of all the events. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.

“So, remember the day we went to the bar, how you said you think Beomgyu might like me?” you ask. She nods. “I think you might’ve been right. Things have been getting weird.”

“I literally fucking knew it, I knew he must’ve been on some shit,” she says, looking excited to hear more. “Continue.”

“Well…” you trail off, feeling your stomach knot up in fear of actually saying what happened out loud. “Oh my Godddd, I can’t.” You hide your face in your hands.

Chaewon pushes your hands down and shakes you by the wrists. “Tell me!”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, so. At the bar, Beomgyu came up to me and was like are you leaving with Soobin? And I was like no, and he was so happy about that. But then he got really upset when I wanted to go back to the table with Soobin. Literally so upset that I ended up going back home with him cause he was gonna sulk all night otherwise.”

“Oh my fucking God, Aeri and I were literally joking about that being the reason why you left. That’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“The next day, I asked him for his opinion on Soobin, and he got all pissed at me for some reason,” you continue.

“It’s cause he likes you!” Chaewon chimes in, rising up and screeching with the adrenaline of the conversation.

“Well then it gets crazy. He starts talking about how our friendship is enough, I don’t need a man, and I’m like huh? I don’t even remember everything he said, but it was so weird, and he started offering himself up to me basically.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Like, I’ll do whatever you want, literally like that,” you explain.

“Girl.” You share a glance.

“Just wait. It gets worse,” you say.

“Don’t tell me you fucked.”

“Just wait!” you repeat. “So I tell him I’m gonna head to your place to clear my mind, and—I can’t make this up—he drops to his knees and starts crying actual tears. And then it gets kinda horny?”

Chaewon busts out laughing and claps her hands. “How’d I know?”

“He’s biting and licking my thigh, and I’m still trying to talk some sense into him, but some demon ends up possessing me and he takes me to my bed, and we don’t fuck but we… yeah.”

Chaewon covers her mouth in shock. She’s speechless, and you let the first half of the story ruminate in silence for a few long seconds. You tighten your lips and nod like you’re disappointed too.

“When we finish, I tell him that this is never happening again, and that he needs to leave my room, but he doesn’t. He insists on sleeping in my bed with me because Soobin gets me every other night, which is not true, but I let him have it anyway.”

“You need to put your foot down. He’s crazy,” Chaewon says.

“There’s more,” you respond. “Also, that night, he told me that Soobin apparently said we’re together or something at the bar? Is that true?”

Chaewon scrunches up her face. “No? I don’t think he said that.”

You groan, “Beomgyu is literally driving himself crazy. Anyway, the next day I literally start hating myself so bad because I wake up and have to see Soobin immediately”—Chaewon gasps—“Yeah. And the whole time I’m thinking, do I tell him? Should he know? And, oh my God, Beomgyu would not stop blowing up my phone during our date.”

“I would have to fight him, that’s so annoying,” Chaewon comments.

“It was! He didn’t even need anything either, he just wanted my attention. I didn’t end up telling Soobin anything cause I was scared. When I got home, Beomgyu and I ate and he was like I hope this is better than what you did with Soobin.”

“Girl, beat his ass,” Chaewon says.

“Stop,” you laugh, pushing her shoulder. “We argue again, and then I ask you to come over. Then you know what happens when you’re there. When you leave, though, the demons get to me again and I get even freakier with Beomgyu.”

Chaewon looks at you in horror and shock.

“Yeah. So when it ends, I tell him that this won’t happen again. He gets all sad and cries again, and says all this heartbreaking, confusing shit. So no matter what I do, I feel like I’m hurting someone.”

“Can I be honest? He’s one hundred percent manipulating you,” she says. You flinch a bit at that. Manipulating you? That’s a little far.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you refute. “He just ignores all our friendship’s boundaries.” Beomgyu has touched you in ways that friends shouldn’t. He’s declared things to you that friends shouldn’t. He’s begged to you and drove himself to tears, he’s gotten in his head with insecurities about you, he’s done too many things that a friend would never do that you just can’t ignore.

Chaewon places her hand over your own. That’s how you know she’s about to get serious. You like talking about this with her because she can be fun, but she can also be mature about things and give good advice. Plus, at least with her, you don’t have to worry about not being heard.

“Listen,” she starts. “He cries to you because he knows you’ll give in. He brings up his devotion to you because it makes you feel like you owe him. It’s not about professing his emotions, it’s about doing whatever it takes to keep you closest to him.”

Your brain is struggling to fit all the pieces together. It’s not adding up or making sense to you. Maybe to an outside source like Chaewon, it looks a little bad, but you know Beomgyu better than that. You always have been influenced by him. Right now is no different. He doesn’t want to control you, you think. He just wants his best friend.

“He’s not evil, Chaewon, he’s just being annoying,” you say. She sighs and goes quiet for a second. You can tell she’s carefully formulating her response.

“He’s being selfish. He can’t stand to see you choose another man over him.” That much you know. He’s admitted to that.

“Then wouldn’t I be selfish too? Letting him do things with me while I’m talking to Soobin,” you ask, looking off to the side. When you say it like that, guilt pours over you. If Beomgyu’s being selfish, then you’ve been obscenely greedy. That’s not a far cry from the truth, though, and it may even be the actuality of the situation after all. You won’t defend yourself from that claim.

“The thing is, you wouldn’t be doing any of this if Beomgyu wasn’t messing with your head,” Chaewon reasons. “Would you have let him touch you if he never cried to you that night?”

You think back to your first intimate moment with Beomgyu. You definitely wanted it. The second time too. You ponder Chaewon’s words. If he never fell to his knees, begging you to stay, what would have happened? If he skipped the tears and the pity party and just took you straight to your room to fuck, would you have been okay with it then?

Probably not, you think. But how relevant is that? You can’t separate Beomgyu’s emotions from his actions. He felt like he was losing you, and that’s why he did everything. Everything that happened after was from the heat of the moment, an act of desperation.

Maybe it’s his utter devotion that turns you on, maybe that’s what keeps you from denying him. Seeing a man so desperate that he’d shed tears for you, perhaps it’s what makes you lose control. When Beomgyu’s on his knees, looking up at you with painfully honest eyes, promising you that he’ll be good, any woman in your position would fold.

What if it wasn’t Beomgyu? What if it was Soobin instead? Would you still give in? You try to picture it. You look into Soobin’s eyes and feel his fingers on your thighs. You try to make yourself burn up more, but you don’t feel much.

Okay, picture it more, maybe. He’s got you spread on your mattress, begging you for just one touch. He kisses your stomach, and his tears fall off his cheek and onto your skin. His tongue is warm and wanting, exploring further down your body until he bites down on your waistband. You tense up, needing more. You grab his hair tight. He looks up at you and you almost shriek, horror and humiliation crashing over you. He’s not Soobin at all. He’s Beomgyu.

Chaewon’s voice cuts through your thoughts to ask you another question, “Do you feel like you can’t leave him?”

“I’d never leave him,” you answer. You didn’t even have to think about it. She sighs.

“At some point, you have to realize that this is going beyond keeping a friend around,” Chaewon says. “He won’t let you go out with Soobin in peace. He argues with you whenever you mention him. He touches you to get your mind off of him.”

You don’t try to refute that. Should you just accept defeat? You could go home and surrender to Beomgyu. You could promise to never look at Soobin again, and he’d finally get what he wants without a fight. You’d live the rest of your life not knowing whether you’ve got the love of your life standing right beside you or waiting out in the world somewhere.

“He’s giving you no choice. He’s doing it on purpose.” Chaewon picks up your hands, lacing them with her own. “You have to start standing your ground with him. No more letting him control your life.” Her hands give a firm, reassuring squeeze to yours.

You nod. “You’re right.” She smiles.

“Okay. Bring it here,” she says, pulling you into a hug. The second your head lands on her shoulder, you start crying. You didn’t even know you had to cry. She rubs her hand down your back, letting you use her as an outlet.

“What happens if I can’t, and nothing changes?” you sob. You feel helpless in your own life. Nothing you do will change what Beomgyu does or erase what you have done.

“Then you leave,” she answers simply. You tense up at the idea. Do you have it in you? You’re not nearly brave enough. “You come stay with me for however long you need. I promise.”

“How will I look at Soobin after this?” You should save everyone a whole lot of trouble and just call things off with him. The thought makes you feel sick, though. You don’t want to leave Soobin. You have a real connection with him. Beomgyu’s just getting in the way of it, fogging up your mind at every chance he gets.

Chaewon pulls you out of her embrace so she can look you in the eye. Her hands stay on your shoulders, firm and reassuring. “Stop beating yourself up. You made a mistake, but you’re not the biggest one at blame here.”

You wish that was true. You blame your lack of spine, your inability to keep your conscience clear, and your willingness to lie to save face. You look down at your lap in shame. If Beomgyu’s an asshole, then you’re perfect for him. You’re not as good as you’d like to think.

Chaewon calls your name to bring your attention back to her. “Soobin isn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Well, that’s true. You sniffle.

“Won’t he hate me now?” you ask.

“He has no right. As long as there’s no label, you two aren’t exclusive. Sure, things are a lot more complicated now, but you’re not a bad person for anything you did,” she says. You nod slowly. Her words help you so much. You would have gone crazy without her.

Maybe you should take her advice: leave Beomgyu and stay with her, at least until you can make up your mind. You can’t do that to him, though. He’d fall apart. It would honestly be hard for you, too.

“Thanks, Chaewon,” you say. You flop down onto the bed, letting your body sink into her mattress. “I’m so exhausted after that.”

“A good cry will do that to you,” Chaewon laughs. She lays down beside you and rests her arm over your waist. You pull yourself closer to her until you’re laying on her chest. You throw a leg over her, getting comfortable.

“Let’s order pizza,” you suggest.

“Yesss, and watch more of my show,” Chaewon adds. She picks up her phone and searches for a good pizza place that can deliver to her. As she does that, your phone screen lights up to signal that Beomgyu’s calling you.

“Oh my God,” you say, holding your phone up for Chaewon to see.

Chaewon smirks and shakes her head. “We summoned him.”

You sit up as you answer the call. “Hi Gyu, what’s up?”

“Not much, just wondering if you’re gonna be here for dinner?” he answers.

“No, I’m getting pizza.” Beomgyu hums on the other end, and it’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Are you with Soobin right now?” he asks. You’re displeased but unsurprised at his question.

“I’m with Chaewon,” you say flatly. Chaewon leans closer to you and points at your phone.

“Let me talk to him,” she whispers, fury in her eyes. You shake your head. You absolutely cannot let that fight happen.

“Oh. Are you sleeping over there?” Beomgyu asks. Chaewon nods with wide eyes, like you’d be crazy if you said no.

“I might, yeah,” you answer.

“Alright. Tell her I said hi. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back after work.”

“Yay, have fun with Chaewon then! Bye~” he sings.

“See you.” You hang up and turn to Chaewon. “Did you order the pizza?”

“It’s on its way,” she confirms with a grin.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You take a deep breath before you enter your apartment. You’re nervous to face Beomgyu again. Not knowing how he’s going to act is worrying you, because you don’t know if you’re going to walk in and get a normal night with your best friend, or more confusing confessions that toe the line between friendliness and something greater.

You don’t see him when you come in, so you wonder if he’s working. That would make your night less stressful. That proves to be wishful thinking, though, when shut the fridge after grabbing a drink and see Beomgyu walking into the kitchen. He greets you with a sweet call of your name.

You smile at him, but it doesn’t meet your eyes. After your conversation with Chaewon yesterday, the only thing that’s been lingering on your mind is how to finally put your foot down. Do you wait for him to try something to have that conversation? He’s going to be offended no matter when you say it, so maybe you should just get it over with. You don’t know.

“How was work?” he asks.

You shrug. “It was kind of a long day.” Not for any work related reasons, but you don’t tell him that part. Standing in the kitchen with him feels awkward now, even though it never used to before. You just can’t stop thinking about him in unfriendly ways, be it from his kiss or from his confessions.

You realize that these thoughts will only pester you worse and worse the longer you ignore the topic with Beomgyu. He’s talking about what he did at work today, but you’re barely listening. Your eyes linger on his lips as he speaks. You follow the movement of his hands as he rambles, thinking about how those slender fingers felt inside of you.

God, stop! This is why you should have never done anything with him. At this rate, you’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with him again. Your heart starts beating faster. You need to let him know that you need space. Fuck, why did you let it get this far? His sad eyes flicker in the back of your mind already.

Beomgyu moves to the couch, probably expecting you to follow him and turn on the television. Your feet stay planted where they are, watching him with careful eyes. He looks back at you when he realizes you didn’t trail behind him, staring at you expectantly.

You force yourself to move, walking slowly into the room with him. You sit on the couch, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

Now’s the time. Speak up, you have to. Don’t worry about his feelings. Think about Soobin. Do this for him—better yet, do this for yourself. Prove that you have it in you.

“Beomgyu,” you say. He furrows his brows, seeming confused at your serious tone. “We can’t do this anymore. I’m serious.” You steady your breathing as you look him straight in the eye.

“What do you mean?” he’s quick to ask. You know he’s not dumb enough to not understand what you meant. He grabs your hand to hold it, and you let him have it for a few seconds before you pull away.

“I mean, no more playing with each other. No touching, or kissing, or anything we wouldn’t normally do.” You’re anxious as hell, but you feel strong for once, and it’s nerve-wracking yet empowering. You’re setting your boundaries. No more reckless decisions that leave you regretting everything the next day.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Why, cause Soobin said so?”

“No, because I said so,” you correct. He tilts his head as a frown starts to form on his face. You remind yourself that you can’t let him win. You remind yourself of everything that Chaewon said. Beomgyu will do anything he can to win, and you can’t let that happen.

He’s quiet for a moment, unnerving you. You know that he’s coming up with his pleas now. You have to cut him off before he can get anything out.

“You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you because of some dumb decision we made,” you say, hoping he’ll understand, but the sadness in his eyes only grows at that. He drops his head onto your shoulder and hugs you. Oh lord. You hug him back with a heavy exhale.

“What am I supposed to do? Watch you be happy with someone that’s not me?” he murmurs into your neck. You lean out of the hug so that you can look him in the eye. He needs to know you’re not breaking this time.

“Yes. It’s either that or we argue like we have been everyday.” It’s about time that he stops sulking at every mention of Soobin.

“Then I’ll take the arguments. I’ll take you yelling at me and hitting me, I don’t care. I just can’t take you being with him,” he says.

“I’d never do that,” you refute, sick at the idea of hurting him. “You have to listen to me. Let me see this out with Soobin. I want to at least give him a chance without you intervening.”

He sighs with a heavy heart. Is he going to let you win? That easy?

“Did Chaewon tell you to do this?” he asks. You drop your jaw in shock. He’s got some nerve asking that.

“That doesn’t matter, the only thing that does is that I told you we have to stop, and you need to listen.” You can’t believe he’s bringing Chaewon into this. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going to let him blame her.

Beomgyu deflates into the couch and looks down at the floor. You ignore how your heart clenches. You can’t comfort him, that would be his window for turning this situation around. He has to know you mean this, so you walk away, going to your room and shutting the door.

You lean your back against the door and zone out, staring at the wall. Don’t think about how Beomgyu feels. Don’t think about how you might have ruined your friendship.

What do you do now? Will he want to talk to you anymore? Maybe you should have let him plead his case a little. He’s insecure, he can’t help it. You slide down the door until you’re sitting down.

You have to stop making excuses for him. He’s an adult, it’s time he acts like it. Chaewon’s right, you can’t keep giving him what he wants, and putting your foot down and hurting his feelings was the only way he was going to learn.

That’s what you’ve been doing, you suppose, but this time you mean it, and you hope he knows it. You’re going to have to put in more effort into resisting the urge to comfort him. If he keeps making things hard for you, you’ll have to start ignoring and avoiding him. The thought scares you.

You don’t want to think about this anymore. You wish you didn’t have to do this, but you had no choice. Your thoughts about him were driving you crazy, and you had to put a stop to it before they could get even worse. Not to mention how guilty you’d feel hanging out with Soobin if you continued letting Beomgyu have his way with you.

You open your phone and go to your chat with Soobin and type a quick message.

Hey

You just want to reassure yourself that you made the right choice. Hurting Beomgyu’s feelings can’t be for naught. You don’t expect Soobin to respond so fast, but he does.

[Soobin] Wow I was just thinking about you lol

[Soobin] Hi

Your heart skips a beat as you read his texts. He thinks about you?

Oh really? About what?

[Soobin] I wanted to see you again

You bite your lip and a smile grows on your face. See? Wasn’t this worth making Beomgyu a little sad? Wasn’t it a fair trade off? He’ll be okay, surely. And eventually, you might even stop feeling guilty for doing it, too.

You deserve to be able to talk with Soobin without your conscience barking at you. This is what had to happen. You’ll feel better about this when everything all works out in the end.

How about tomorrow?

[Soobin] I’d love that

Yayyyy

Finally something not shitty about my day

[Soobin] What happened?

You groan. Where do you even start?

Argument with my friend

[Soobin] Beomgyu?

Yep…

[Soobin] Well I’m glad I could make you happy for a minute then :)

You find yourself giggling at his message.

You’re cute

[Soobin] Thank you

[Soobin] You too

You almost squeal when you read that. He’s so shy when it comes to flirting, but when he does it, it never fails to give you butterflies. You imagine him blushing as he sent it, feeling a little hesitant to be so bold. What an endearing guy.

Finally, you feel like you can end the night on a decent note. You feel better now that you’ve got something to look forward to with Soobin. You don’t let yourself think about Beomgyu anymore tonight, not wanting to sink down that rabbit hole.

I’m gonna go to sleep, thanks for cheering me up hehe

And for everything that you do

Good night

[Soobin] Sleep well

[Soobin] Dream of me

Your heart flutters. Your fingers race across the keyboard.

Fingers crossed

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The air around you and Soobin feels so much lighter now that guilt doesn’t have you in its claws. You ended whatever you had going on with Beomgyu, and now you can focus more on Soobin. Your heart holds an open invitation for Soobin to occupy, you’re just waiting for the feelings to further bloom.

It’s unfortunate how early it gets dark out, but you don’t let it ruin your day. You bask in the glow of the streetlights as you and Soobin walk to the park.

“I used to come here all the time with my sister and nephew,” he says. You find a gazebo to sit under. From here, you have a perfect view of the frozen-over lake ahead of you. “We’d play tag with him, but we’d have to run super slow to give him a fair chance.”

You can see that image clearly in your mind, and it makes you smile at how cute it is. Soobin being such a family man is so charming to you. He has such marriage potential. You’re getting ahead of yourself, though.

“This seems like a good place to bring a kid. So much space to play,” you comment, looking out at the park. The grass doesn’t look so alive right now, and all the trees are bare, but it must be nice in the summertime. Even now, there’s something beautiful about it.

“Yeah, it makes me think about having kids of my own to run around in these fields.” The idea of a mini Soobin playing here makes you chuckle. He’d definitely have well-behaved kids. He would be a good dad.

“You want to stay here when you raise a family?” you ask.

“I think so. There’s a lot this place has in store. I’m a little attached to it,” he laughs. You wonder if you’ll think of the city so fondly one day too. You’ve only been here for a little over a year.

“Really? What’s the best thing in this city, then?” you ask and smile at him.

He looks at you for a long second, then lets out a little laugh. His cheeks are red when he looks back out at the lake. “I don’t know…”

You giggle, swooning over him yet again. “What about your hometown? What was it like there?”

“It was nice. I lived in a small area. I miss it sometimes, but I don’t think I’d go back. I think I mostly miss being a child,” he answers.

“I can relate to that,” you say. “Life’s harder now.” You think about the past week in particular and all the chaos with Beomgyu. Teenage you would never have imagined getting tangled up in something like this, especially not involving him.

“Things like this are good, though,” Soobin adds, smiling at you. “Things with you.” Your face heats up. He’s getting so flirty and brave.

“Same for me,” you say. “It’s good with you.” You spend a few quiet seconds admiring his face, letting the butterflies flutter wildly within you.

“I think it’s been long enough for me to ask this,” Soobin starts. Your body tenses in anticipation. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Oh god. The butterflies halt and replace their happy fluttering with silent dread. All of your effort is going into maintaining a neutral composition. You don’t want to let your internal dilemma show. Your heart is going haywire, like it’s trying to beat right out of your chest. You don’t blame it for trying to run away; a part of you wishes you could too.

“Can we wait a little longer?” you ask meekly. You fear hurting his feelings, but you simply need more time. This is not how you imagined this moment would go. You wish you could scream yes and jump into his arms, but things have gotten muddy in the past week. You need to sort everything out with Beomgyu first. If this is going to happen, you need to make sure it comes from a place of one hundred percent certainty. You can’t be exclusive with Soobin with Beomgyu lingering in the back of your mind.

If Soobin’s trying to mask his disappointment, he’s failing. Your heart drops. Is this where he leaves you? No—you’re not ready for that either. If he gets up right now, you’re ready to cling onto his jacket and beg him not to go. You don’t know what you just did. You messed up. You should’ve just said yes.

“I’ll wait however long you need,” he ends up saying. He stays right where he is. You sigh in relief and hug him. He lets out a noise of surprise, but is quick to hug you back.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. Things are just…” you trail off as you pull away from him. He brushes your hair out of your face. “…Confusing right now.”

“Is there someone else?” he asks.

You gulp. “Kind of. It’s… Beomgyu.”

“Oh, right. He doesn’t like me.”

You frown. “I don’t know why.”

“You really value his opinion,” he notes.

“It’s not only that…” you say, looking down at your hands fidgeting in your lap. Soobin lifts your head back up with a gentle hand. He smiles when your eyes meet.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I’m ready whenever you are,” he reassures. He leans in to place a peck on your cheek. You heat up wildly.

“You should probably know, though,” you urge.

“No,” he insists. “Honestly, I don’t want to know. I’m just happy I get you to myself every time that I do.”

A weight lifts itself from your shoulders. You feel like you can breathe again. You’re lucky that Soobin is so understanding, and even luckier that he’s willing to wait for you to figure your own things out. He doesn’t owe you that, but you’re endlessly appreciative that he gives it to you anyway.

You lean into Soobin’s side and look out at the scenery in front of you. The two of you fall back into conversation, and you find yourself feeling sad when it’s time to go.

As you hug him goodbye, you feel inclined to just never let go. You feel so comfortable in his embrace. You insist on meeting up again over the weekend, and he puts up no fight in accepting. Gosh, he makes your heart race. Things are finally feeling good again.

notes: yayyyy what do we think?? chapter 2’s already at 7.6k and i’m estimating it’ll get up to ~17k-20k, but we shall see. i’m excited to hear ur thoughts, so feel free to leave feedback! 🤍

#txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu angst #txt angst #txt fic #beomgyu fic #soobin angst #soobin x reader #soobin fic

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hcneymooners · 7 months ago

Text

⋆ beg until i'm in.

ambessa x wife!reader. men and minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are estranged wives, but are you really estranged if she refuses to divorce you, and every time you see each other, you can't help but fall into bed?

cw: light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, getting back together, top ambessa medarda, dom/sub, dom ambessa medarda, she has soft spot for you, pleasure dom ambessaaaaa, just for you though, strapping, rough sex, rough body play, hair-pulling, name-calling, pet names, lesbian sex, dildos, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, she is strapping you down, you will not be walking, cock worship, blow jobs, the strap is the cock in question no men i swear to god, mommy kink, praise kink, mating press, age difference, older woman/younger woman, marriage, she does not play about you, realizing this might have slight primal play, orgasm edging, begging, spanking, impact play notes: i am a FREAK about this woman. also i wrote this for @sheloveschai because she has been bringing me joy through their work and i want to do the same.

“she thinks i’m a monster.”

the words hung in the air, dense as the afternoon heat, heavy as ambessa’s head in your lap. how you’d ended up here—her armor gone, her weight so familiar—felt like one of those moments you’d look back on, trying to pin down the thread that led you here. you couldn’t.

your lives were separate. estranged wives, that’s what you told yourself. she wouldn’t divorce you, and you weren’t exactly rushing to draw up the papers. but estrangement was such a tidy, convenient word like the absence between you both was clean and intentional. it wasn’t. she blurred the edges every time she showed up unannounced, stepping into the space she left behind like it still belonged to her. and maybe it did.

she came today, her arrival marked by the low hum of her car pulling up the dirt road. the ranch was still, caught in that honeyed pause between afternoon and evening. the house she’d bought for you sat perched on its patch of green, neat but unpretentious—a porch for watching storms, white siding that seemed to glow in the late sun. the kind of place that felt like it had existed long before you arrived, waiting for someone to live in it properly. around it, the land stretched wide, unbroken except for the fences hemming in the garden you’d built with your own hands.

you were out there, barefoot and stubborn, locked in a battle with the soil. a carrot clung to the earth like it had something to prove, your hair slipping from its tie as you yanked at it, dirt smudged across your face from an earlier showdown with a deer that had dared to challenge your lettuce. the dress you wore—white, soft, and loose—shifted around you like a second skin, its ruffled straps falling to kiss your shoulders. it was stained at the hem, caught on brambles, but it moved with you, romantic in its simplicity, something that could’ve been borrowed from another life.

ambessa watched from the car. you didn’t notice her at first, too busy flailing after some audacious bit of wildlife, but she noticed you. her eyes followed the sway of your dress, the way the sun painted gold onto your skin, how your body moved with a kind of rawness that had always undone her. she waited because ambessa always waited. but there was a tension to it, like watching something she didn’t want to admit she needed.

hours later, she was here, sprawled in your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. her hand rested against the fabric of your dress, her breathing slow but uneven. you stroked her hair without thinking, staring out at the horizon. the horses were grazing, lazy against the emerald sprawl. the ranch, her gift, felt heavier than it had in a while.

“at one point in time,” you said finally, the words tasting of truth, “every daughter views her mother as her monster.”

her hand stilled. you could feel her thoughts shifting, coiling like a tide just out of reach. she didn’t say anything, but the silence was loud, charged. you didn’t press her.

“you were always so hard on yourself,” you continued, your voice quiet but steady. “you can be… strong, stubborn, cruel. i’ve felt it. i know it. so much of your decision-making is absolute like the world is this black-and-white chessboard you’re determined to win on. there’s no room for anyone else in that kind of thinking. it can be stifling. but—” you hesitated, fingers idly brushing the hem of your dress as you tried to hold her gaze.

“love is always the basis when it comes to the people you care about: mel, kino—”

“you,” she interjected softly, her voice barely audible but so certain it almost startled you.

you hummed in agreement, the corners of your mouth tugging into an easy smile.

“me,” you admitted, your chest tightening at the confession. you sighed, the sound carrying years of ache. “your problem is that you don’t believe we can love you back. not really. you think we can’t be safe with you. so you send us away, like that’s protecting us. you decide things for us—these big, sweeping decisions—and suddenly we’re standing outside looking in, strangers in our own lives with you.”

you paused, thinking of her daughter. “mel’s a teenager. she’s going to buck against you because that’s what teenagers do. you have to let her. you can’t control everything, ambessa. we don’t learn any other way.”

ambessa watched you, her face unreadable but her eyes dark and intent. her voice was indescribably tender when she spoke.

“you’re such a wonderful stepmother.”

the word made you scoff. you pushed her—gently but firmly—off your lap and rose to your feet. she let you, though her eyes lingered on you. she could never let go entirely.

“don’t let her hear you say that,” you muttered, shaking your head.

mel had not taken your marriage to her mother well. and really, who could blame her? you were more than half ambessa’s age. you’d once been mel’s peer at university, brushing shoulders in the same circles without a clue that your lives would one day intertwine like this. to make matters worse, mel hadn’t even learned of the relationship from her mother or you. no, she’d found out by walking in on the two of you in a position that still made your cheeks burn to think about.

what followed was relentless: the icy distance, the sharp words, the careful avoidance. love, for you, had always been hard, but this was a different kind of difficulty. you’d tried to explain yourself to mel, fumbling for words that didn’t sound hollow. you told her you loved her mother simply because you did. it wasn’t about their wealth or their influence. you’d come from nothing—a small town with a crumbling church, miles of barren land, and a quiet resignation to a life of struggle. you were used to living hard and mean, to fending for yourself.

but ambessa… she had swept into your life with the force of a storm. she needled at you, chipped away at your shell until you were belly-up and tender, soft between her teeth. you were an easy kill in her hunt, and she was ruthless, selfish, and she could be so fucking mean. but none of that mattered.

you loved her with the kind of blind devotion that defied reason, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. being her wife was your greatest pride, and tending to her was your guiltiest pleasure.

mel couldn’t understand that, and the rift between you grew wider with each passing day. then came the public’s growing animosity toward the medarda family, the rising tensions, and ambessa made one of her absolute decisions. the separation blindsided you. you’d cried so hard you blacked out in the hall, and when you woke, you left without looking back. you thought mel wouldn’t care.

which is why you were shocked when ambessa brought you mel’s request for your perspective.

you turned toward the stove, busying yourself with the rhythm of dinner prep. it was easier to focus on the small, manageable things—chopping vegetables, lighting the flame—than to meet her gaze.

“she doesn’t hate you, [name],” ambessa said suddenly, her voice calm but insistent.

you froze, the knife hovering mid-air before you carefully set it down and turned on the stove.

“you staying for dinner?” you asked carefully.

you heard her shift behind you, felt the warmth of her body as she closed the space between you. her arms circled your waist, firm but gentle, and you shivered, instinctively leaning into her. god knows you were never the strongest soldier. she pressed a kiss to your temple, her lips lingering just long enough to make you melt.

“i admit,” she murmured, her voice low and quiet, “i had other motives for coming here.”

“bessa,” you began.

ambessa held you tighter, her lips brushing against your temple, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. her silence stretched just long enough for you to grow uneasy, but then she spoke, her voice low and thick with emotion.

“they’ve been asking for you,” she said, her hands smoothing over your waist.

you stiffened slightly, unsure if you’d heard her correctly.

“who?”

“mel. kino.” she pressed another kiss to your temple, then let her forehead rest against the side of your head. “they’ve been pleading with me to bring you back. they won’t admit it outright—god forbid they ever say they were wrong—”

you shot her a look.

“—but they’ve missed you. and they hate the way i’ve been without you. they say i’m different when you’re there.”

your breath hitched, your chest tightening with a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to hope.

“they don’t even like me,” you murmured, your voice cracking.

“that’s not true.” ambessa’s tone softened, her grip on you tightening like she was afraid you might slip away. “they’re too proud to say it, but they’ve developed a soft spot for you despite everything. they miss you as much as i do.”

you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the edge of her expression—open, raw, and devastatingly honest. by instinct, you lifted a hand and cradled her face. you hated it when she was sad.

“oh, bessa.”

“i’ve realized,” she continued, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “that i am nothing without you. i thought i was protecting you by letting you go, but i was wrong. i’m tired, my love. tired of waking up alone. tired of pretending i don’t need you. i do. god, i do.”

you felt a weight lift from the depths of your body. you’d waited so long to hear this—to feel wanted, needed, like you weren’t just a fleeting chapter in her life. tears welled up, and before you could stop them, they spilled over, hot and fat.

ambessa turned you in her arms, her hands coming up to cup your face as you began to cry in earnest.

“oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing away your tears. “don’t cry. please don’t cry.”

“i don’t want to do this anymore,” you choked out between sobs, clutching at her arms like she was the only thing keeping you upright. you pressed down on the thick cords of muscle, pleading with the strength of your grip. “i don’t want the house or any of this shit. i’m so tired of taking care of myself, ambessa. i just want to come home.”

her expression crumpled, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability in her that she rarely let show.

“i’m sorry,” she said, her voice tight. “i’m so sorry, my love. i never should have let you go. i’ll make it right—i swear to you. i’ll spoil you, take care of you, and keep you forever. you’re mine, [name], and i’ll never let you forget it again.”

you sobbed harder, your face burying into her chest as her arms enveloped you completely.

“i know, baby. you did so well. i’m so proud of you,” she murmured.

she continued to whisper soft reassurances, mantras of “sweetheart,” “my sweet girl,” and “my sweet baby,” until the tears slowed and your breathing evened out. you shuddered against her, refusing to remove yourself from where you were pressed tightly against her chest. she shifted, and you jolted—fingers splaying desperately across her body.

“shh. i’m just making us more comfortable,” she told you.

the two of you moved, a single weeping entity across the floor of the kitchen into the living room. ambessa settled you on the couch, continuing to trace a hand across the landscape of your back.

“come back with me,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your hair. “let me take care of you. let me love you the way you deserve, hmm?”

you nodded against her, your hands clutching at the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline.

“that's all i want. i never stopped loving you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“i know,” she said, tilting your face up to hers.

the kiss she gave you was desperate and all-consuming, a culmination of every time you had woken and found yourself alone. her hands roamed over your hips and your waist, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable. you gasped into her mouth, and she deepened the kiss.

“i’ve missed you,” she murmured against your lips, her voice low, rough with hunger. “did you miss me?”

you shivered, your body instinctively pressing into hers.

“yes. yes, i did. i swear, bessa,” you insisted, your voice trembling.

“shh, my love,” she said, her lips trailing down your jaw to your neck to soothe you. “i believe you. a sweet girl like you wouldn’t lie to me.”

with a groan, she lifted you, guiding you toward the bedroom, her hands never straying from your body, her kisses growing more frantic. when your back hit the bed, she hovered over you, her gaze dark, possessive. a hand came down to cup your cunt, firm and promising.

“yes or no?” she asked.

she only asked out of respect. ambessa had long ago perfected the art of taking what she wanted. you found you didn’t mind. it was easier this way, surrendering to her because she knew your body—your needs—better than you ever could. in her hands, the pressure of choice vanished. you trusted her to always know what was best.

suddenly, you were reminded of when she proposed. you felt the same now as you had then—wide-eyed, carnivorous. gently, you pulled her closer, brushing your lips against hers. the room smelled of apple blossoms and her intoxicating scent.

“yes,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

satisfied, she lowered her mouth back to your neck. at that moment, you could have mistaken her for a vampire—hunting for your pulse, for that line of forever-promised blood.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

“ambessa.”

“hmm?” she answered, her hand tightening where it reigned on the nape of your neck.

she had you face down with your ass up, her other hand holding you at the small of your back as she thrust into you. you let out a high moan as she began to move faster, her cock moving deeper as you bore down on her.

“you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. so tight and sweet for me. it’s almost as if you haven’t been touched in a long while.”

“bessa—” you choked out, and she let out a laugh.

“oh, baby. i know that’s not true.” bending forward to brace herself on the bed, she began to pump into you. “you were always so hungry for it, so eager. i know you’ve probably stuffed yourself every single night since i’ve been gone.”

you whimpered, drool beginning to spill from your lips.

“but it didn’t feel like this, did it?”

“no,” you answered, squealing as ambessa brought a hand down on your ass. “no, baby. i can’t take care of myself like you do.”

“no,” she agreed. “you can’t. you just get so stupid when you’re fucked. you have no chance of doing this alone. not well, at least.”

“bessa, please,” you mewled.

with a bored sigh, she tightened her grip around your band of hair and yanked your head back, pounding into you with predatorial precision. you moaned as she began to focus on your g-spot, pulling your head back roughly to further increase her control.

“shit, bessa. fuuuuuck.”

“yeah?”

all thoughts were being fucked out of your head. you managed to get a hand on your clit, rubbing furiously to add stimulation.

“uh, uh, uh. oh, fuck. holy shit. ambessa, fuck. please, baby. please don’t stop.”

for a moment, she paused, and you remembered how cruel she could be. tenderly, she turned you over on your back and slid back in, placing your hands on the back of your thighs so that you were holding yourself open. with a grunt, she sunk deep until her hips were once again clapping against your ass.

a strong hand came down, fingers hooking into your mouth and tugging till she could see your teeth. you felt like an animal.

“stop fucking talking,” she told you, and you nodded, spit slicking all over your mouth and her fingers. “good girl.”

the praise settled on you, and you moaned weakly. her next thrust hit you like a line of coke. she was pressing into you, working for something. you weren’t sure what, but you could feel the way she was aiming to break you in.

“come on,” she murmured, retracting her fingers to grope roughly at your tits. “say it.”

your brow furrowed, and she came to a slow, gradual stop. sliding out, ambessa crawled onto the bed and placed a hand on your chest. you watched her, eyes large and glittering with tears. her breasts hung heavy over you, ripe and full with age. you wanted to suck and bite her nipples till she was shaking on the bridge of your nose, pussy-deep into your throat.

carefully, she slipped the holster from her hips and removed the girthy dildo from where it sat, slick with your heat and arousal.

“maybe this will jog your memory,” she said, and you didn’t have a moment to think before her cock was in your mouth.

you choked loudly, but she paid you no mind. with a few circular motions of her wrist, she made you deepthroat every inch, her eyes darkening as you audibly gagged and sucked on it. you ran your tongue over the artificial veins, getting it as wet as possible.

you were tasting yourself, strawberry sweet with a hint of bitterness and slight musk. you could feel your cunt pulsing, fluttering as ambessa’s eyes grew darker. she prohibited you from letting your legs down, and your thighs were burning, sweat garnishing your skin with a light sheen.

you felt so exposed, so debased like this: holding yourself wide and open while gagging like a well-trained whore on the toy.

“remember now?” she asked, and you breathed hard through your nose.

you were trying, bless you, to remember, and she dropped a kiss on your cunt for the effort.

“look at this pussy, sweetheart. fuck, baby.” ambessa lifted from where she’d been dragging her free hand through your folds. her fingers were soaked. “you’re rinsing me.”

something about her tone jogged your memory, and suddenly, you knew what she wanted to hear. in your excitement, you whined, and she met your gaze. she considered you and then removed her cock from your mouth.

“mommy,” you breathed, and she smiled, her face warm and rivaling the sun.

“that’s it,” she said, pride drenching the words. “good job, sweet girl. you deserve a reward.”

you beamed and wiggled your pussy in silent demand. ambessa laughed at your eagerness, bending to kiss you. her lips trailed lower till she was mouthing over the sopping mound of your count. around and around, her tongue wet, her teeth softly grazing your clit. you snapped upward, letting go of your legs and clutching at her braids instead.

“goddamnit, ambessa! fuck!”

she continued to eat you out, shaking her head and sucking loudly. still, she found time to pinch the inside of your thigh in reprimand.

“that’s not my name, sweet girl. i won’t tell you again.”

“fuck. fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, mommy. just—please.” your voice cleaved in the middle. “please, i need to cum. i want to cum so bad for you, mommy. let me. please just let me—”

with a wet pop, ambessa broke away from your swollen pussy and looked at you. you breathed heavily, eyes caught on the way she gazed at you from between your legs.

“nothing is stopping you, my love. do what pleases you.”

she lowered down again and spat right into your cunt. you let your head fall back.

“i told you,” she said. “i plan to spoil you. this will only be your first.”

and with that, she suctioned her mouth around your rosy pussy and sucked, pointing her tongue and slipping inside of you. you came with a high wail, legs clamping around her head as you bowed over her. you felt light-headed, slit open, and destroyed.

and true to her nature, ambessa never stopped.

#ambessa medarda #arcane ambessa #ambessa x reader #ambessa x you #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #wlw smut #arcane smut #mine ; 🐎.

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lovelivision · 4 months ago

Text

NEW AND PINK ˖⊹

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𐔌.pairing — geto suguru / reader

‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 4.2k

❥ summary... geto's way of celebrating valentine's day might end up driving you to insanity, or him...

warnings.ᐟ ── 18+ only, smut, pwp, reader is wearing a dress, swearing, dirty talk, tease!geto, use of a vibrator, slight orgasm denial, cunnilingus, slight overstimulation, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, little bit dacryphilia, creampie, afab!reader, no pronouns used

The restaurant that Geto took you to for Valentine’s Day was much fancier than you were expecting it to be, though for most of the night your eyes have been stuck on him and not your surroundings. It’s a little embarrassing how flustered he makes you even when he’s not doing anything.

It’s not like he’s not noticed you stealing glances at him, he’s enjoying the embarrassment on your features when he catches you looking. A polite smile on his face when he asks, “Are you feeling okay?”

The surprise at his question is evident on your face, “I’m fine.”

His smile only grows, pretending like he doesn’t know why you’re daydreaming but you’re both fully aware of what’s captured your attention. But he’s waiting, you can tell, it’s not until you’re back home that he brings up your behaviour.

He’s right behind you when he asks, “What were you staring at all night?”

“Was I staring?” You brush him off, going to walk away to your room only to be stopped by his hands on your hips pulling you back into him.

“You were,” he lowers his head to your shoulder, nose tracing the curve of it to your neck. His lips tickle against your skin when he speaks again, “Did you need something from me?”

“I feel like need is a strong word,” your voice trembles slightly and you wish it didn’t because it’s giving away that you do need him.

A soft breath of amusement leaves him, “I’d say it’s pretty accurate.”

Changing the direction of the conversation, you ask, “Suguru… are you being mean to me on Valentine’s Day?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” his lips press kisses into your neck, stopping below your ear, “In fact, I have another gift to give you.”

“You already gave me– ah!” The way he breathes cool air against you ear cuts off your words, a shiver running down your spine.

Taking a step back, he smiles at your reaction, “I know, that’s why I said another.”

Large hand grabbing onto yours and tugging you to your bedroom, his steps seeming more urgent now. You wonder what exactly he got you that’s worked him up so much, you’re taking bigger steps than usual just to keep up with him.

In the room, he lets go of you and searches around the back of your wardrobe. He’s quiet, it’s making you nervous… and excited. Once he finds what he’s looking for he keeps it out of your view, walking back to the bed he sits on the end of it and pats between his legs.

You know he wants you to sit between his legs but you hesitate too long and he grabs onto your waist, spinning you and tugging you down between them. Your back is to his front and it’s reminding you of just how much bigger than you he is, your heart skips a beat.

“Why are we sitting like this?”

“Because I have something planned,” he says easily.

“And that is?”

“A surprise,” he purrs low beside your ear, “Someone’s impatient.”

“I’m curious, not impatient,” you defend.

“It’s both.”

You pout in response, “Why are you making me wait so long after dragging me in here?”

“Because I like your reactions,” he states simply.

Grumbling under your breath as you move to stand up from him, a fruitless move considering he’s quick to grab you and pull you back into his lap. Tilting your head back, you look at him, “Suguru, can’t you be kinder today?”

He smiles down at you, “Oh, and why should I?”

“Because you love me?” You try.

“I also love teasing you though, you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Slumping back against him, you give up; it’s hard to win against his argument and he can only chuckle at your drop in mood. His arms round you, hands holding a small present box before you, “Here,” he murmurs low in your ear, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at his voice, cautiously taking the gift from him. When you open it, you don’t know if you should be shocked or not. Staring at it blankly while your mind processes what he’s just gifted you, face heating up suddenly at the implications. Pink bullet vibrator staring back at you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s got you this as a simple present, he has intent for tonight.

“Suguru…”

He hums back at you unbothered, “What’s wrong?”

“…Just what exactly did you have planned for tonight?”

“Not much,” he purrs, chest vibrating with his words against your back. “I just thought…” large hands sliding from your knees, up your thighs, forcing them to part slightly, “…I could play with you a little bit.”

You doubt him, “Is that all?”

“We’ll see,” the smile he wears can be felt in the tone he uses.

The urge to close your legs and rub your thighs together hits you at his words but he’s still holding them open, hands wandering between them to coax them further apart. “First, I need you to open your legs nice and wide for me.”

You don’t get much of a choice in the matter, he’s already pulling your skirt higher and propping your legs on top of his. Spread lewdly, “Why are you always putting me in indecent positions?” Skin heating at how your dress is shoved to your waist.

His fingers tickle against your inner thigh, you twitch against his touch, sensitive. “Because I like seeing you like this…” the pads of his digits slide over your covered cunt, teasing you, “…You’re cute.”

Stifling down a pitiful moan, you try to look back at him, “You just like being a cruel tease.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being cruel to you,” he pouts like you’ve actually accused him of something hurtful and not something entirely accurate to his sometimes-borderline sadistic personality.

“Mhm…” your eyes are full of obvious doubt, knowing better. “Can you at least give me a kiss before you torture me tonight?”

He smiles at you with so much fondness, “Of course.”

Instead of a soft kiss like you had expected from him after your ask, he wastes no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. His kiss depraved and messy as he sucks on your tongue, mouth damn near devouring you with how full his kiss is. It’s making your head light and pleasantly dizzy, feeling like your body is already buzzing without him even touching you where you’re really starting to crave it.

A string of saliva connects your wet lips when he finally pulls back, evidence of just how unrestrained he’d been. It snaps when he rubs a thumb over your lips, smearing your saliva with it. “Got a real pretty look in your eyes right now,” he comments, all too proud of himself.

Just as you’re regaining your faculties enough to say something snarky, you’re hearing a faint buzzing only to be completely shocked when he presses that small bullet vibrator directly to your clit. It has you folding with the sudden stimulation, stopped by Geto’s strong forearm pulling you back to him. Almost immediately you’re melting into him, thighs spreading impossibly wider, hips raising to seek out the soft buzzing.

He's amused at how quickly you gave up on your pouting, “Hmm, does it feel that good already?”

You shake your head at him, only because you’re still in your panties, the pleasure could be so much more if he’d just take them off you. It’s somewhat embarrassing how wet they’ve gotten, cunt leaking your arousal into the flimsy material. Even worse that he can definitely tell, his eyes staring shamelessly down between your legs. Endlessly amused by your pitiful squirming, surprisingly he’s letting you rut your hips down into his hand and you’re left vaguely wondering how long he’s going to let you get away with it.

The answer is not long at all, his arm moves so his hand can grip your hips tight, stilling all your movements. A frustrated sigh leaves you, still itching to rut into the vibrator. Annoyingly, he’s purposefully avoiding letting it stay in one place too long, teasing your clit, down to your hole and back up. Never enough to let you cum but enough to make your thoughts muddled and eyes unfocused.

“I thought– hah– this was a gift?”

He replies obviously, like he’s not understanding your point, “It is?”

More embarrassing sounds tumble from your lips, ones you’d like to hide but can’t with how you’re trying to talk, “Then– hng– why won’t you let me cum?”

“That’s my gift,” he answers glibly. “I like watching you struggle,” his face nuzzles against you sweetly with his evil words.

“At least– hnng– ah!–” words cut off by his sudden upping of the vibrators setting, focusing it right over your clit.

Your orgasm is approaching so quickly, hips fighting against his hand harder now. So desperate for release when he moves the damn thing out of nowhere, the pleasure that was wracking your body stopping, “‘At least’ what?” He asks curiously.

“Seriously?” you whimper back at him, dismayed at how your orgasm slowly slips from your grasp.

“What?” He grins but his tone stays even, innocent, “I wanna know what you were gonna say.”

You blink back at him, “Sugu–”

“–Oh, I like that,” he chuckles, “You gonna ask me for something in that sweet tone of yours?” His taunting has you giving second thought to asking anything of him, which he notices, “Come on, pretty… you know I can’t help but give into you.”

He’s such an asshole because – to you – that doesn’t even feel a little bit true. Not when there are all those memories you have of begging him to let you cum only for him to tilt his head and smile while saying ‘not yet.’

The vibrator taps against your clit a few times, drawing your attention back to him, “Come on, use your words.”

“Ah– I was gonna say,” your words are a chore to get out, eyelashes fluttering delicately with each slight tap of shocked pleasure to your dripping cunt, “at least take off– mmph– my underwear.”

It surprises you how you managed to get the whole sentence out, your brain so focused on what he’s doing to your pussy that anything else is tedious. Hips wiggling downwards, still fighting against him to get what you want. Pussy wet and slick, begging for him to touch you how you know he knows how to.

“Why would I do that though?” He questions, eyes depraved as he watches your meek movements, “Pussy so wet you might as well not be wearing any with how they’re stuck to you.”

As if to demonstrate, he runs the toy through your folds, from your hole to the top of your clit and back again. It makes your eyes roll, cunt pulsing with how bad you want it. If he would just let your hips go even a little bit more you could rut down and make yourself cum in no time at all.

“Sugu, please,” begging only ever falls on deaf ears, you never seem to have a sway over his decisions once he’s made his mind up.

But you couldn’t be more wrong, Geto feels like he’d fold for you by now any other day of the week but with how sinfully wet you are he can’t bring himself to stop. You’re so slick and desperate that he’s got half the mind to forget the vibrator and fuck you right now. He can’t though, not when the sounds leaving you are that cute and your movements are that frantic. Maybe he is a little sadistic because he’s definitely getting off to how bad you want this.

His cock painfully hard just behind you, throbbing in his pants as he plays with your pussy. The whole sight of you like this has him salivating, the need to tongue fuck you suddenly thundering through his system. Clumsily he pulls your panties to the side and presses the vibrator directly to your clit, your wetness gushing from your hole without the material in the way, drooling down your skin and onto the bed.

So taken by surprise the wind is damn near knocked out of you, head thrown back onto Geto’s shoulder as your body shudders. His hand holds steady, not moving the vibrator an inch and your heart picks up in pace because your orgasm is right there and you’re half terrified that he’s going to pull away at the last minute again. The thought alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, not even able to verbally beg how you want to.

Managing out small, “Please, please, please, please please pl– ah!–”

Eyes rolling as you finally cum, body twitching as you reach that long awaited blissful high. Fresh slick leaking from you, making your cunt even wetter. Lewd in how your hole spasms, begging to be full, the only thing missing in the pleasure wracking your body being something stuffed deep inside you.

Geto is uncharacteristically quiet behind you, watching in awe how your body goes limp after cumming as hard as you did. Not in your right enough mind to pick up on his silence, not until he’s suddenly manhandling you and throwing you onto your back on the bed.

Head still spinning as you blink down at him, “Suguru, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t even glance up to your face, eyes stuck on your pussy as he damn near rips the fabric of your panties while he shoves them down and off. “Fffuck– Need to put my mouth on you,” is the only explanation he gives before dropping further down the mattress and shoving his face between your legs.

Your legs close around his head but it doesn’t stop him, the only response from him is his head nuzzling into your cunt. His hands reach under your legs, thumbs pulling apart your pussy lips so his tongue can lap at your hole directly. Your thighs shake beside his ears as your fingers grip desperately at the sheets. Your orgasm still so fresh that you’re not even fully convinced you had finished cumming before he started licking at you.

Cunt so creamy he thinks he may have died and gone to heaven, debauched slurping sounds of him eating you filling the room. His pursuit utterly feral and needy as he continues to drink from you, deft tongue slithering into your hole to taste you better. Geto’s eyes roll as he groans into your pussy, lightly shaking his head from side to side so his nose tickles your clit.

So wrapped up in how obsessed with your sweet pussy he is that he can’t even savour how pathetic you’re being for him. The whimpers and whines that leave you normally something he taunts and bullies you for but when you’re creaming on his face like this he can’t bring himself to, someone might have to physically remove him and even then he’s not sure he’d part for very long.

So lost in his own world that it’s not until the last moment that he realises you’re cumming again, the excitement that rushes through him makes his dick twitch. Pressing his face into you more, tongue seeking out your cum, moaning as he swallows it down. Greedy and wicked in how he continues to drink from your pussy, his eyes just as fucked and glassy as yours are.

Sensitive and buzzing as your orgasm rushes through you only to be kept on edge with how insistent Geto’s being. When he’d shown you that vibrator you didn’t think it would end in him being this unbelievably drunk on your pussy, his control slipping this much a rare sight that you can’t help but delight in it.

At the rate he’s going, you’re going to cum again, hips starting to try and back away from him and his persistent tongue. Feeling so sensitive that the pleasure is starting to feel like too much, body hot as your toes curl.

Geto groans disapprovingly at your struggle to get away from him, forearms locking in beside you so he can keep you still. Everything about him screaming that he’s not fucking done yet, and you think you might die before he’s satisfied.

He’s driving you insane, blinding heat radiating from your cunt. Pleasure so focused and unrelenting that it’s almost painful, “Sugu– it’s too much– hah–”

Barely pulling back to coo out, “Mmph– one more for me.”

And then he’s going right back to urgently lapping at your pussy, eyes looking up at you lazily to watch the way your eyes brim with unshed tears. Geto feels out of his mind, so fucking horny as he gazes at all your pitiful reactions. Cunt a delicious mess for him that he can’t help but savour, smiling dopily because he knows – he can tell – you’re already close again.

Such a sensitive little thing, really never any trouble to make you cum for him over and over again. Getting easier each time, stringing you higher and higher. Plunging you into a sweet ecstasy that leaves you all glassy eyed and tear-stained cheeks. Oh, and it’s his favourite look on you, he wants you messy, he wants to see the way you’re completely ruined and shaking after he plays with you how he needs.

He's so evil, giving you no time to come down at all. You’re already cumming again like this, legs shaking and eyes rolling. Tummy doing flips as you try to jerk away from him, your nerve endings feel frayed and hot. Broken, sobbed out whines of his name pulling from you breathlessly as you shake and shiver through it.

Still, he doesn’t stop, he keeps going and now you’re genuinely crying, “Stop– ah!– Sugu– mmph– please, I can’t!”

Shivers run down his spine at your pleads, at the way your voice hitches and breaks with it. Giving your pussy a few more lecherous slurps before he pulls back, licking at his lips as he stares down at your gooey cunt. Truly he’s insatiable, the only reason he’s pulled back now is because he still wants to fuck you and he knows if he pushes you anymore than this you might pass out on him and he can’t have that.

“Stay with me, pretty.” Predatory eyes flick to yours as he shoves off his jacket, hands quickly moving to his pants, undoing them enough to pull his cock out. “Were not done, I’ve not fucked you so full you can’t breathe, yet.”

Neither of you are even fully undressed, he’s been too turned on to bother with it and you’ve been given too many orgasms to complain. His hands grip your knees and open your legs wide for his viewing pleasure.

Your words are lazy as you mutter to him, “You’re gonna break me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, “at worse I’m gonna ruin you.”

“More than this?” Eyes so big and round when you look up at him.

Sweet smile on his face at how you look, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

Purposefully, he doesn’t let you say anything more, slipping his achy dick into you before your mouth catches up to your thoughts. Both of you moan as he fucks you open, Geto’s head dropping back as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. His hands grip your hips so he can pull your lower half up and closer to him, he’d been so hard for so long that he feels lightheaded at finally stuffing you full.

“Ohhh– I fucking needed this,” he sighs out, cock twitching inside you.

Able to feel the way you pulse around him, so tight that it shouldn’t be legal. Cunt so syrupy sweet that he can’t believe he doesn’t worship you every day for letting him fuck you. Distantly wondering if he should be nicer to you sometimes but when he looks back down he quickly erases the thought. Your wobbly lower lip and sparkling eyes that shed tears are something he needs in his life.

Whining out at him, “Sugu, it’s too much, I’m too sensitive.”

“Noo, don’t say that baby, doing so good,” he grinds his pelvis into you, “Be good for me, yeah?”

Oh god, his movement and words drive you up the wall. Suddenly so fucking needy for him to fuck you just with that one roll of his hips, cunt holding on for dear life. “Okay, okay, move more, please?”

“There ya go,” he taps the side of your thigh twice like it’s a pat on the back for being so good.

Of course he doesn’t show mercy, not gracing you with the kindness of starting off slow. Immediately he’s dragging his fat cock out only to slam back into you quickly, your whole world flipping upside down and inside out. Shocked and loud moan leaving you, one that has you clasping your hands over your mouth, brows pulling up in pleasure and worry. You’re not sure you’ve made a sound that depraved before.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he grins at you salaciously, “Won’t matter if you cover your mouth or not.” Again, he pulls out and fucks back into you, “Hnng– I don’t mind either way though, let your pretty little pussy do the talking hmm?”

As if to demonstrate his meaning, he starts thrusting with purpose; no pausing to taunt you, only the relentless and harsh drag of his dick. The lewd sounds of him fucking your cunt loud in the room, obscene wet slapping feeling so loud to your ears.

It’s sloppy and depraved and he’s so focused on how you’re wrapped so divinely around him that he can’t focus on anything else. Pussy drunk and in love with you, vision hazy as he watches the sloppy way he slides in and out of you over and over. He loves fucking you open; he loves how you take him.

Your back arches upwards as you continue to moan into your hands, another noise complaint and the cops might start fining you. Everything feels so good and hot you’re afraid you’ll start melting, so malleable and fucked dumb that you’re not sure you’re cognisant of what’s happening around you.

Happy to finally have something inside you, the full feeling of his throbbing length the thing you were missing. Tears trailing down your face as you gaze at Geto, stupid lovestruck look in your eyes as you dopily watch him. His brows pulled together and lip bitten while he watches his dick fuck in and out of you.

Geto’s trying so hard to hold off on his orgasm but he’s feeling so impatient and so much more worked up than usual. Maybe it was the dress you wore tonight or maybe it was the way you twitched while he held the vibrator to your clit or maybe it was the way you were leaking into your panties to the point they were soaked through or maybe it was the way your pussy was so sloppy for him while he tongue fucked you.

All equally possible contributing factors and in the end it doesn’t really matter. He’s at least going to make you cum before him, he’s still a gentleman after all. Hand slipping from one of your hips to press into your stomach, delighting in the moan you let out from behind your hands that are still pressed firmly over your mouth.

“Mmm, you always take me so well,” he comments. “Bet you feel me real well right here, huh?” And then he pushes down again, right over where his cock sits so deep inside you on re-entry.

Another debauched and whiny moan leaving you at it, eyes rolling as it pushes you over into your climax. A feral and overwhelmingly happy smile makes its home on Geto’s face because while he was intending to make you cum, he didn’t think that was what was going to get it done. His ego growing too big at the fact that you’d cum from his dick and his dick alone.

“Look at– hng– that,” he sounds in awe, “Absolutely– mmph– perfect, you like my– fffuck– dick that much?”

Your hands fall from your face as everything goes limp. Sight all blurry as you nod back at him, agreeing dumbly, “Uh huh.”

The little whines from you and the tears in your eyes are what have him finally cumming, groans leaving him as he lets himself finally finish. Your cunt milking him adding to his pleasure, spine tingling as he cums deep inside you. Pelvis flush to yours as he stills almost completely, jerking into you slightly as his dick twitches.

You’re not even convinced you’re still conscious, so fucked out and tired that you feel like you’re drifting off. Geto’s voice has your eyes cracking open, you hadn’t realised you’d shut them.

“Happy Valentine’s,” he smiles lazily as he drops your lower half, cock slipping from you, “It’s a shame we didn’t get to use your present more,” he shakes his head like it’s a real damn shame. “Hey, how about–”

“–Do you want to kill me?” You slur out, already predicting where his depraved mind was going.

“Dramatic,” he mutters, leaning down to press kisses to your tear-stained cheeks, “I love you.”

You manage out a small, “I love you too.” A few beats passing, “You’re doing the laundry this week…”

𝒂.𝒏. sorry that this is so late !!! but i meant it when i said valentine's isn't over until i say so !!!!!!!! i hope you all enjoyed❣️

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

#visionwrites #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader smut #suguru geto x reader smut #suguru smut #geto smut #geto x reader smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x you #suguru geto x reader

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plutotheplum · 3 months ago

Text

chapter three | the star

xavier x fem!reader

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, his fingers skimming across your cheek, trailing over your lips. “How could I not be jealous?” Xavier whispers, letting go of your hair to lean closer, his fingers sliding under your chin. “How could I not mark you up when you look like this, all pretty and soft under me?”

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, fluff, kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, hickeys, overstimulation, finger-sucking, mild dom/sub undertones

wc: 6.5k

a/n: a little late, but it's here! fun fact, xavier was actually my fav when the game first released :3 taglist is closed now, i'm sorry!!

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the chariot

So maybe deciding to fuck five men to have a baby wasn’t the brightest idea you’d ever had.

You were still a bit sore from yesterday, even though you’d managed to shove Rafayel off of the bed, despite all his complaining, for him to go and get you a hot cloth to press against your sore, achy thighs.

Funnily enough, you and Xavier had somehow ended up in the same apartment complex, which meant you didn’t have to do much preparation, other than invite him over really. A yawn escapes you as you stare at the television boredly, watching the shitty cooking show that was playing.

You’d wrapped yourself up in a couple of blankets, too lazy to do anything today other than lounge around until Xavier got here. Quiet, sweet Xavier. A light flush covers your cheeks when you think of him, remembering the time you’d both let go of your inhibitions.

The elevator had been having problems that fateful week and despite all the warnings and the little poster attached to the steel doors, you were too lazy to take the stairs. Xavier had just happened to turn up and step inside the elevator with you, mumbling something about how unsafe it was to go up alone.

It’d been fine… until it had broken down.

You’d had a mini panic attack until Xavier had calmed you down, grabbing ahold of your hands to stop your nervous fidgeting, his body pressing closer until all you could see in that moment was him. His soothing words were like balm to your frayed soul and you could still remember the way he’d cupped your cheek and how your knees had gone weak.

You still didn’t know how it had happened, one moment he was shushing your panicked mutterings and the next his nose had brushed against yours, lips capturing yours hungrily. The rest was history. You were just glad security hadn’t seen the way Xavier had hoisted you up into his arms, his cock sliding into your cunt with firm, measured thrusts that had you crying out his name.

The memory was enough to make your thighs press together even now.

You shuffle up onto your feet when you hear a knock on the door, brushing your lustful thoughts away for the moment.

“Hi,” you chirp, smiling up at Xavier.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

Your gaze drifts over him. A hoodie and sweats; Xavier somehow managed to look handsome in the plainest of clothes.

“You wanna come in?” you ask, raising your brows when he stands outside your doorway, shifting on his feet.

“Yeah,” Xavier replies, “yeah, I’ll come in.”

“Did you want a drink or something?” you continue, shutting the door behind you, sparing him a glance as he brushes away the bundle of blankets on your couch, his thighs spreading as he gets comfortable. “I have juice or soda or-”

“C’mere,” he murmurs, tugging you closer until you’re standing between his legs. Your brows raise, but you do as he wants, humming softly when he wraps his arms around your legs, his face nuzzling into your stomach.

“You okay?” you ask gently, beginning to pet his hair. “We don’t have to do this if you’re tired.”

The silver strands are soft, your fingers running through them easily. Xavier mumbles out an incoherent answer and you watch the flutter of his lashes when he leans back, his shoulders sagging before he presses his face into your stomach again. A faint smile pulls at your lips, nails scratching at his scalp gently.

“‘m not tired,” Xavier mumbles, peering up at you for a moment, “and I want to do this. I agreed to it, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you affirm, brushing his hair out of his brows, fingers smoothing across his skin gently. “Perhaps you’re sleepy then,” you tease playfully, eyes widening when Xavier suddenly hooks an arm around your thigh, hoisting you up onto his lap. “Xavier-”

“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his bright eyes meeting your bewildered expression, warm hands smoothing over your thighs and up your hips, caressing your waist. “Can I do that, please?”

“Oh,” you say, slightly taken aback. All you can manage is a jerky nod, a light flush covering your cheeks at his gentle voice. You’re not so used to such… gentleness.

Xavier peers up at you, his fingers pressing into your back to help you relax until you stop holding yourself up on your knees and sink down lower, finally settling on his lap. His fingers thread through your hair, pushing at the back of your head gently until you rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck as you snuggle closer.

It’s cozy and comforting and Xavier’s body is akin to a heater. Feeling your eyes droop, you press your face into the crook of your neck, letting out a sleepy hum.

“You’re roping me into sleeping,” you mumble, a contented coo leaving you when he rubs your back.

“Rest is good,” Xavier offers, his lips brushing across your cheek fleetingly, “sleep and when you’re ready, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” you ask sleepily.

“Anything.”

“Even a baby?”

A small smile pulls at Xavier’s lips, a gentle kiss pressed to your hair.

“Especially a baby.”

You wake up to the heat of Xavier’s mouth against your neck.

Brows furrowing, your eyes blink open blearily to find Xavier’s head buried into the crook of your neck. When he scrapes his teeth against your skin, a soft, sleepy noise leaves you, eyes slipping shut momentarily.

“You tricked me,” you murmur, fingers sliding through his soft hair.

“I didn’t trick you,” Xavier sighs, his hot breath fanning across your neck, making you shiver. “I simply… left out some details.”

A whine escapes you when he kisses your throat, head tilting the opposite way when he kisses your neck on the other side, his tongue laving across your skin, mouth smacking quietly against your skin before trailing down. His fingers pull at your shirt, enough for him to kiss across your sternum before latching on once more, sucking a hickey into your skin.

“How many did you leave?” you ask, squirming in his lap when he cups your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple.

“Enough,” he replies vaguely, his head tilting to peek down your shirt to get a glimpse of your tits, humming in satisfaction when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Enough?” you echo, fingers brushing across your neck, hissing softly when you feel how tender your skin is. “Enough for what?”

Xavier stares back at you blankly and you raise your brows expectantly, poking his chest in question. When he stays quiet, you narrow your eyes, pinning him in place until he gives; his gaze flitting away from you.

“Please don’t tell me you did what I think you did.”

“I didn’t,” Xavier supplies innocently, grumbling when you manage to jostle yourself off of his lap and out of his grip, padding into your bathroom, jaw dropping when you see what he’s done to your neck while you were asleep.

“What the fuck?” you squeak out, switching on the light to get a better look. “Xavier, what the fuck?”

Purple and pink splotches cover your neck, marked into every spot of free skin, save for the back of your neck which seems untouched when you crane your neck awkwardly, trying to assess the damage.

You look like you’ve been viciously attacked by a damn vampire.

“This is- is more than- than- ugh! I don’t know!” you exclaim frustratedly. “I can’t even go out looking like this now!”

“Good,” Xavier mutters, crossing his arms as leans against the doorway, his gaze tracking you as you flutter about the bathroom frantically, watching quietly while you rub a bit of concealer into a purplish splotch to see whether it would disappear.

It doesn’t.

“Good?” you snap, glaring up at him, “you call this,” you gesture to your discolored and marked-up neck, “good?”

“Yes, good,” Xavier repeats stubbornly, snatching your concealer and setting it down on the vanity, his hands sliding up over your hips to pick up and set you on the vanity after, stepping in between your thighs when you try to squirm away. “Now stop moving.”

Your eye twitches as you glare at him harder, crossing your arms over your chest when he digs through a couple of your drawers, fishing out a pack of makeup wipes.

“Fuck off,” you murmur, swatting his hand away when he tries to rub a wipe against your neck, lips thinning in irritation.

“What? You want a kiss to feel better, baby?”

“W- what?” you sputter when you hear Xavier’s voice, his question sending a pleasant thrill through your body that settles in your lower stomach, making you feel warm.

“I said, do you want a kiss to make you feel better?” he murmurs, catching your flailing hand this time, smoothing the wipe against your neck to get rid of the futile job of concealing you’d attempted in vain.

“No,” you grouse, frown deepening as you look away, too stubborn to give into Xavier’s whims just yet.

“No?” Xavier sighs, looming closer until he noses into your cheek, lips pressing against it in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be cumming inside of you soon and you’re worried about a couple of hickeys?”

“Stop- stop talking like that,” you hiss, hand slapping over his mouth in an attempt to stop his strangely arousing words, unused to the change in his demeanor. “And it wasn’t just a couple, you’ve practically mauled my entire neck.”

Xavier sends you an annoyed look, his words too muffled for you to hear when you press your hand against his mouth harder. Asshole. You wanted to glow with motherhood, not to look like you’d been punched in the throat repeatedly.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out when he finally manages to pull your hand away from his mouth, his grip firm as he catches your other wrist that shoots out in an attempt to shut him up. “I’m sorry for leaving so many hickeys, okay?”

“The damage is already done,” you mumble, looking away from him, tugging your wrists free from him.

“That’ll show Caleb,” he mumbles under his breath, barely audible.

Your ears prick up when you hear Caleb’s name being uttered. Right. Xavier was jealous. You seriously should have thought this plan through better.

It doesn’t help when Xavier presses closer, nosing into your cheek apologetically, his voice soft.

“I‘m sorry, baby.”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry, Xavier.”

He sighs heavily, leaning back to run a hand through his hair. Your annoyance grows when you watch his hair fall back into place perfectly, the man before you still looking calm and composed.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he asks, raising his brows. “Get on my knees and grovel?”

Your brows raise at his suggestion, satisfaction coursing through you. That’d be a sight. “Yes, actually,” you reply flippantly, “you should definitely get on your knees and grovel.”

“Okay.”

Taken aback isn’t the right word to describe your expression when Xavier sinks down onto his knees in your bathroom. You shuffle forward on the vanity, blinking down at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish of water. Your mouth shuts soon after when he reaches out, grasping your foot.

Xavier’s fingers slide over your foot, thumb pressing into the arch of it, lifting your foot, his mouth pressing against your ankle in a reverent kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, turning your foot in his hand to press another to your ankle. “I should’ve asked and I shouldn’t have left so many.”

“You’re right,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t waver too much, betraying your arousal. “You should’ve asked.”

It’s uncomfortable, sitting on the vanity like this. You can’t squirm too much, it’ll give you away, but the stickiness in your panties has become unbearable with the way Xavier continues to talk, his voice smooth and soft. The fact that he’s on his knees isn’t helping either, your toes curling involuntarily with every brush of his mouth against your foot.

You’re not completely oblivious to what he’s doing. Xavier might seem unassuming, but you can feel the way his mouth parts against your ankle, his tongue darting out to taste your skin briefly.

Xavier’s intentions become clear when his mouth trails up your leg, uttering repeated apologies. “I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, baby…” You jolt when his teeth scrape against your inner thighs, his hands smoothing up over your legs, to pull you towards him.

“Do you accept my apology?” he asks innocently, kissing your thigh again, nudging closer until his face presses right between your thighs, his eyes fluttering shut as he breathes you in. “Fuck… I think you do, baby.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, fingers pushing at his head to try and get him out from between your thighs, only for an unbidden moan to slip out of your mouth when he pulls your sleep shorts to the side and runs his tongue along your drenched panties.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” you manage breathlessly, foot worming in between to press against his chest, pushing him back.

Xavier’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes darkening when you deny him. Your hips roll when he strokes his fingers against the sole of your foot, a soft sigh leaving you.

“I think I apologized at least ten times,” Xavier replies, huffing out an irritated breath when you pull your foot free.

When he lurches towards you, you click your tongue, shaking your head.

“Stay.”

Xavier pauses, cursing under his breath, his hand slipping down to press against his half-hard cock. You smile when he stays, kneeling on the floor obediently. Squirming on the vanity, you pull your shorts along with your panties, dangling the fabric on your finger.

It drops from your finger onto the floor and Xavier twitches, his eyes closing momentarily to restrain himself.

“Look,” you whisper, voice lilting, “look, Xavier.”

When his eyes open, you can spot the spread of a pinkish flush dusted across his cheeks, his ears reddened prettily, eyes going half-lidded when he sees your wet pussy on display. You let your fingers slip between your thighs, a needy whine leaving you, your slick webbing between your fingers as you spread your puffy folds, letting him see more.

You smile at him, circling your clit before your fingers press inside of your cunt briefly, voice turning into a whiny complaint. “I feel so empty, Xavier.”

“What are you playing at?” Xavier asks, his voice hoarse with desire.

“I‘m not playing at anything,” you murmur, “‘m just… relieving myself. Is that a problem?”

“Yes,” he mutters entirely too quickly, his hand pressing against the hard bulge in his sweats harder, a ragged breath leaving him. “It is a problem. Let me up, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, squirming when he looks up at you like that, flushed and needy. Your mouth opens in another moan, hips rocking needily across the vanity, desperate for relief.

“Xavier.”

It’s enough to have his resolve snapping, and your arms wrap around his neck when he surges up to his feet, stepping between your dangling legs, his mouth crashing onto yours. You moan into the kiss, pawing at his hoodie, trying to drag him closer.

“Didn’t come see me after the elevator, then you say you want a baby,” he rasps against your lips, hands sliding under your thighs to pick you up, his head tipping back when you latch onto his throat. “Been too busy fucking other men, hm? My cock wasn’t good enough for you?”

“It- it was,” you protest, feet locking around his waist when he carries you out of the bathroom. You mewl against his neck when he squeezes your thighs roughly. “It was really good.”

“Could’ve given you a fucking baby in that elevator if you’d asked,” Xavier mutters, tossing you onto your bed, lips slotting over yours once more for another hungry kiss. He kisses you breathless, his hands squeezing at your ass greedily, kneading your hips soon after.

You laugh against his lips, smiling lazily when you feel his lips twitch, eyes finding his.

“An elevator isn’t exactly a baby-conceiving location.”

Xavier huffs out an amused breath against your cheek, his lips trailing down your jaw. “I did fuck you without a condom.”

“And I liked it,” you murmur, cupping his jaw to draw him back to you, lips smacking against his.

“I figured as much,” Xavier muses, leaning back.

You watch appreciatively when he pulls his hoodie over his head smoothly, a dreamy look coming across your face when you slide your hands up his chest, eyes fluttering when he does the same to your thighs, his palms warm against your skin.

“You look good,” you breathe out, squirming under him when he gropes at the fat of your ass, your hand sneaking lower to palm him through his sweats.

“Thank you,” Xavier murmurs, his voice growing increasingly strained the more you caress his clothed cock.

You shift awkwardly, your bed dipping at your movements, drawing a laugh out of Xavier when he nearly topples over you. You smile up at him, nuzzling against his warm chest, lips drifting across his abdomen, pressing kisses here and there.

Xavier groans, his fingers sliding through your hair as you mouth at him, pulling your head back.

There’s a dangerous thump in your chest, one that has you lurching forward, neck craning up to meet his kiss when he dips his head. You feel hot, heart rampantly beating at his words, wanting more of his praise, of his devotion. It’s selfish of you, really.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses your cheek, “please, Xavier.”

“I know,” he soothes, his hand smoothing over your side, “I’ll give you what you want, baby.”

Xavier’s hands slip under your shirt, pulling it up over your head. You sigh softly against his lips when he kisses you again, his fingers pinching and tugging at your nipples until he manages to draw out another needy whimper from your lips.

You pout when he pulls away, your expression mirroring his when he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“You let Rafayel mark you up.”

Brows furrowing, you look down, spotting the lingering but faint splotches on the side of your breasts.

“That’s hardly anything compared to what you’ve done to my neck,” you mumble, arms sliding over your chest when he eyes your tits intently, feeling shy.

“I take it back,” he sighs, pulling your hands away from your chest. “It wasn’t enough.”

You yelp when he surges towards you, one of his hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them up above your head.

“X- Xavier!”

“Be good, sweetheart,” he mutters, mouthing over the faint marks, making you moan.

You whine under him, writhing when he swirls his tongue over your nipple, back arching to offer more of yourself up to him. Xavier grunts against you, his free hand coming to pin down your bucking hips that’d begun to rock against his clothed thigh, your body unabashed and uninhibited.

“‘m gonna make you mine,” Xavier rasps, peering up at you, his tongue lewdly flicking at your nipple before mouthing at the side of your breast, teeth scraping and mouth sucking until he pulls back satisfied, kissing the darkened mark on your skin. “And you’re going to be full of my cum, okay? Gonna be pregnant with my fucking baby.”

You nod your head rapidly and Xavier smiles against your chest, his lips trailing down over your ribs. When he frees your wrists, you slide your fingers through his soft hair, thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve the ache in your pussy.

“Please touch me,” you gasp, “please… please?”

“You beg so sweetly,” he sighs, the tip of his nose brushing against your breast again, his mouth latching on once more. Sharp, ragged noises leave you, eyes squeezing shut when he finally slips a hand between your thighs. “Baby, you’re dripping.”

You flush, blinking down at Xavier when he shuffles down, his cheek resting against your thigh as he spreads your puffy folds open, swearing under his breath when he sees the strings of slick clinging stubbornly to you.

“‘s all for you,” you whisper, spreading your thighs a little more to try and entice him to bury his face between your thighs. “All for you, Xavier. Not Rafayel, not Caleb, not Zayne or Sylus. Just you.”

“Just for me,” he echoes, fingers flexing against your thighs. “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” you affirm, reaching down to rub your fingers against your clit, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Don’t you want what’s yours?”

“I know what you’re d-”

Slick-coated fingers press against his lips, pushing forward until you press them into his mouth, fingers resting on his tongue. Your cunt clenches around nothing when Xavier sucks your fingers, his darkened gaze never straying from your cunt, thumbing your folds further apart to watch your pussy clench again.

You moan when he slides his tongue between your fingers, sucking them clean before pulling off with a muted pop.

“All yours,” you offer again, voice breathless and eager.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, shooting you a hungry stare, “all fucking mine, baby. Every inch of you.”

You lose your ability to hold yourself up on your elbows when Xavier buries his face between your thighs, his tongue licking and swirling through your folds, low groans emanating from him.

Thighs twitching, your fingers fist his hair, unable to keep your sounds quiet any longer. Xavier slurps at your pussy, the sounds of him lapping at your cunt mixing with your unrestrained moans, the atmosphere in your bedroom laden with lust.

“You taste so good,” he whines, nuzzling into your thigh, pressing a wet kiss to your skin. “I could do this for hours.”

A hazy mewl is your response, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. You squeal when he sucks your sensitive clit into your mouth, toes curling against his back, feeling his muscles flex everytime he has to pin your thighs down, stopping you from clamping them around his head.

“Oh,” you whine, eyes squeezed so shut you think you’re seeing stars. “Xavier, fuck- ‘s too much-”

“Too much?” he breathes out against your pussy, “you asked for this, baby. Now be a good girl and take it.”

You think you could cum alone from his voice, stern and unbudging. He wasn’t like this in the elevator, far more desperate, far more out of control. Now, Xavier seems restrained, like he knows what he’s doing and knows what he wants.

His tongue laving over your pussy is enough to have you thinking that you might pass out, chest rising and falling with ragged pants, Xavier’s hand reaching to paw at your breasts, groping soon after. You whimper when he pinches your nipples, the sharp sensation going straight down to make your cunt clench.

Xavier’s teeth scrape across your puffy folds, and your eyes snap open, shooting him a panicked look, only for him to smile against your pussy, his tongue lolling out to trail over your swollen, aching clit lazily.

“Gonna let me mark you up here?” he asks, pressing a reverent kiss to your clit, his fingers pressing against your inner thigh in question, as close as possible to your pussy.

“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, tugging his hair, hips rolling up to meet his awaiting mouth, back arching when he licks over your wet pussy sloppily.

“You’re right,” Xavier smiles up at you, boyish and eyes twinkling, “it’s a great idea.”

You roll your eyes, although his quip makes you laugh, arms wrapping around his neck when he crawls up over you again. He licks into your mouth, swallowing your noises when you taste yourself on his tongue, eager pussy trying to suck in his fingers that he rubs against you.

“C’mon,” he whispers, pecking your lips, “please, baby?”

You’re much too easily swayed because you’re nodding, hands sliding over his firm chest, tongue trailing over his lower lip playfully. Xavier moans against your lips, and you follow soon after when he curls his fingers inside of you, beginning to thrust them in and out of you.

“Fine,” you murmur, “but only a few.”

Xavier shoots you a displeased look, pressing an agitated kiss to your mouth, muttering under his breath about how stubborn you are. He takes what you give him though, slinking back down to kiss your inner thighs, getting to work.

You clench around his fingers, mewling and whining with every thrust of his fingers, every drag of his tongue against your skin. When he’s fussed over your thighs, he returns his mouth to your clit, sucking it into his hot mouth, tongue swirling and flicking over the swollen bud.

“Gonna cum,” you whine, thighs squeezing around his hand, the sensations of his tongue almost overwhelming against your clit, every suck and slurp causing heat to pool in your stomach.

“Do it,” he rasps, fingers slipping out of you in favor of running his tongue over your wet pussy, a deep groan emanating from his throat. “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

It’s too much, the swirl of his tongue, the pets of his fingers against your clit. All it takes is Xavier pressing his tongue into your fluttering hole to have you squealing, toes curling and back arching as you cum on his tongue. You mewl dazedly, thighs twitching when he strokes over your clit more firmly.

“That felt good,” you mumble, playing with his hair absentmindedly.

You blink down at Xavier when he doesn’t reply, legs kicking out when he sucks your clit into his mouth again, the overstimulation enough to make you writhe.

“I- I already came!” you squeak out, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sinks two fingers inside of your fluttering pussy.

“You can do it again,” Xavier mutters, kissing your thigh and then your hip, “can’t you, sweetheart?”

“N- nghhhh- no,” you whine, shaking your head, hips bucking up, your mind feeling delirious with pleasure.

“Yes, you can,” he breathes out, peering up at you, spitting down onto your cunt lewdly, the sensation making you let out a shuddering breath. “You said you were mine, that this was mine,” Xavier whispers, his fingers rubbing his spit into your pussy, “remember?”

Fuck. You had said that, hadn’t you?

“No?” you offer innocently, averting your gaze when Xavier narrows his eyes. “I don’t quite recall…”

“Better start recalling,” he huffs out, although you can feel his smile against your skin, his teeth nipping at the fat of your thigh playfully.

“Just one more time,” you murmur, “okay?”

Xavier hums, busying himself between your thighs again. You don’t miss the way his hips grind against your bed, humping needily everytime he slurps at your pussy. It makes you horribly wet, and you’re tugging at his hair hard, unable to keep yourself from writhing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and whine, cheek squishing into your pillows.

Xavier tightens his grip on you everytime your thighs twitch, his arms winding around your thighs in a final attempt to keep you in place.

“Stop trying to squirm off of my mouth,” Xavier grouses, “just want you to cum, baby. Stop being so stubborn.”

You manage out a shuddery whine in response, clawing at the sheets when he sucks on your clit harshly, the sounds of his lips smacking against your sloppy pussy obscene in the quietness of your apartment.

He keeps you there, fingers thrusting lazily, tongue petting across your clit, his spit leaking down between your asscheeks until you cum again with a sharp cry of his name, shuddering violently, body curling in on itself.

“Good girl,” he soothes, rising up between your thighs, his lips wet against your cheek, “good girl, sweetheart. You did so well.”

You sniffle, snuggling up into his chest, eyes drooping shut tiredly. Xavier’s hand smooths over the curve of your hip, pulling you closer, his voice soft as he whispers sweet praises, kissing your cheek every now and then.

You can feel him not trying to move too much but you can feel the press of his arousal against your hip, hot and hard, straining against his sweats. Despite your tiredness, there’s still a dull ache between your thighs, only one Xavier’s cock can relieve.

Pretending to snuggle closer, your hand creeps down, brushing against his hard, clothed cock. You can hear the hitch of his breath, a shuddery exhale leaving him when you brush your hand against him again.

“You- ah- you should rest,” he begins, fingers threading through your hair.

Shaking your head, you blink up at him innocently, hand sliding into his sweats to finally feet him. Xavier’s cock is hot, twitching in your greedy grip when you squeeze, a whine leaving him when you drift your thumb across the head of it, smearing pre-cum along the length.

“You said you’d give me a baby,” you whisper, “remember?”

He glares at you when you throw his words back at him, his head tipping back when you pull his sweatpants down, a moan leaving him as you throw a leg over one of his, pressing closer as you stroke his cock at a languid pace.

“No wonder everyone’s wrapped around your fucking finger,” he mutters, sliding his hand over his flushed face, “you’re insatiable, sweetheart.”

You smile up at him sweetly, mouthing across his throat, hand working up and down his cock in slow pumps, mewling softly against him when pre-cum wets your hand. Xavier pants when you scrape your teeth across his neck, suckling at his skin until you’re satisfied, pulling back to see your handiwork; a prettily blooming hickey on his neck.

“Ah fuck,” he whimpers, hips bucking up to thrust into your hand when he feels your punishing pace, trying to fuck his cock up into the heat of your hand faster. “Baby, fuck-”

“You can take it,” you goad, smiling against his throat when Xavier grunts, his fingers flexing against your hips.

A glance down has you humming in satisfaction. The tip of his cock is flushed prettily, Xavier’s cock heavy in your hand, his body twitching whenever you rub your thumb over the tip teasingly.

“Please,” he whispers, his cheeks hot with embarrassment, squirming underneath you when you cup his balls, massaging them in your hand, a fat glob of pre-cum dripping from his cock.

“Please what?” you coo, biting his shoulder.

Xavier whimpers and your cunt clenches, lips trailing over his neck to suck another mark into the base of his throat.

“Please let me fuck you, sweetheart. Let me fuck you full, hm? Give you that baby you want so badly."

You hum happily, still stroking his cock when he tips his head towards you. Xavier’s lips are soft against yours, insistent and stubborn when you try to slow the pace, his hand curling around your throat to hold you in place.

Xavier sighs into your mouth, spit leaking as he licks into your mouth sloppily, his free hand curling around yours to guide it against his cock, tightening your grip.

He’s shifting you to how he wants, stealing another kiss while he manages to get you to turn, your back pressing against his chest while he draws you closer, his cock slipping between your thighs to thrust shallowly.

You whine, thighs pressing together, Xavier groaning when he feels the pressure of your thighs around his cock.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he complains, his hand sliding between your thighs to pry them apart, his breaths fanning across your hair as he pants, trying to catch his breath.

“I- I don’t know!” you respond exasperatedly, “I just- I want your cock, Xavier!”

“My cock and my cum,” he sighs against your cheek, fingers petting across your pussy, lips trailing across your jaw, “and my baby, hm?”

“Mhm,” you nod, turning your head to meet his lips, letting out a contented noise when he kisses you.

The brush of his cock against your pussy is welcome, mouth working against Xavier’s eagerly when he presses his cock against your aching hole. There’s enough slick and pre-cum for him to slide in easily, Xavier’s eyes fluttering shut in bliss at the heat of your pussy, his face nuzzling against you.

A soft moan escapes you, hand splaying out over Xavier’s when he presses it against your stomach, his breathing ragged as he draws his hips back and thrusts them forward, burying his cock into your cunt.

“So tight,” he mumbles, “just as needy as you were back then, baby.”

You sigh dazedly, ass pressing back against him, cunt clenching around his cock greedily. Xavier’s cock twitches and he grunts, his fingers reaching around to play with your clit while he fucks his cock into you with firm thrusts that have you whimpering out his name.

“X- Xavier, so- so good.”

“Taking my cock so well,” he praises, his hand sliding up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Such a good fucking girl, hm?”

“Your good girl,” you slur, hips squirming back to try and take him deeper. “‘m your good girl, Xavier.”

“Yeah,” he moans, kissing your cheek sloppily, “yeah you are, baby.”

You sigh hazily, letting him lift your leg for him to thrust deeper, every roll of his hips leaving you curling into him. Your hand reaches back to cup the back of his neck, mewling contentedly when he presses himself closer, his lips trailing across your shoulder before you tip your head back for another kiss.

“Gonna have my baby, sweetheart, hm?” Xavier whispers against your lips, unable to stop himself from kissing you between each word, every peck against your lips making you chase after him. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, peering up at him, watching as his gaze trails over you hungrily, every thrust of hips making your breasts move.

Xavier grunts, his head falling against your shoulder. His fingers wrap around your hip tighter, grip almost bruising with the way he’s clinging onto you, his cock driving into your cunt purposefully.

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” he moans, his arm winding around your thigh tighter, mouth trailing across your arm, “fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“G- good,” you hiccup, your own hand slipping down to play with your clit, desperate to cum with him. “Wanna cum with you, Xavier.”

“You’re perfect,” he breathes out, lust-ridden eyes giving way to something that looks adoration, his eyes softening enough to have your heart fluttering and teeth sinking into your lower lip shyly. Xavier smiles, leaning closer, his lips brushing across your cheek gently. “My perfect girl.”

You’re almost sure you would swoon if not for his cock stuffing you full and the tight grip he has on you, anchoring you against him.

Every lewd sound, every sloppy kiss he lands against your lips, it really is too much.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you mumble, pouting.

“Then cum,” he says hoarsely, nuzzling against you, “c’mon baby, cream my cock and I’ll stuff you full like you want me to, breed you like you want me to.”

You gasp when his hips thrust forward hard, nails scratching across Xavier’s forearm, his cock buried deep inside of you, enough to have your toes curling.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, “Xavier!”

“Shit,” Xavier curses, his hips stuttering when he feels your walls clenching around his throbbing cock unforgivingly, “baby, gripping me too tight.”

A few more circles against your clit has you panting, hand curling into a pillow as you shudder and come, squeaking when Xavier drags you back when you try and squirm off of his cock, holding you in place. You can feel the way his cock throbs, Xavier’s soft whine making you clench around him again, his hot cum spilling into you.

You both pant raggedly, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Xavier managing to circle his arms around your waist and hug you closer, his lips pressed against your shoulder firmly while you twitch, his cock still stuffed inside of you.

When his softening cock slips out of you, you whimper, fingers curling around his wrist when he uses his fingers to push his cum back into you, with a kiss to your cheek.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” he murmurs, his other hand stroking over your thigh affectionately.

Xavier yawns soon after, and you hum happily when he curls himself behind you, his fingers still pushing his cum into you lazily.

“Thank you,” you whisper, tilting your head to kiss him.

“Anytime,” Xavier breathes out, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

You peer up at him when he stares down at you, your own fingers trailing over his cheek. He turns his head kissing your palm, his eyes fluttering shut.

“You really mean that?” you muse, your fingers trailing down his throat teasingly.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Anytime.”

There’s a crick in your neck when you wake up with how awkwardly you’re positioned against Xavier, curled into him intimately.

He lets out a cute, sleepy noise, one that has you smiling fondly as you shift to get more comfortable, fingers drifting across his firm chest fleetingly. It’s a bit awkward, but you manage to flip over onto your back, pressing a quick kiss to Xavier’s cheek, somehow hoping that’ll appease his sleeping form, and be enough for you to move his arm slung over your waist.

Amidst all your squirming, Xavier’s arm only seems to tighten.

You huff out an exasperated breath, flopping back against your bed, feeling boneless. Feeling hot, you kick your blanket off of you, muffling a squeak when Xavier presses closer, his nose digging into your cheek, a soft snore escaping him.

Dork.

Your brows furrow you blink down, wincing internally when you see the hickeys he’d left between your thighs. Much less than on your neck, but still fresh enough for someone to see them clearly.

You spy a few more hickeys on your breasts, lifting the leg he’d been caressing to assess it. Two darkened splotches lay on the inside of your ankle.

How conniving.

You’d be more annoyed if you weren’t so sated and warm, eyes fluttering shut again. You needed your rest after all, to deal with Caleb later.

The reminder of the fighter pilot is enough to jolt you awake again, heart dropping when you remember the image of your near-mauled neck and marked-up inner thighs. Xavier whines in protest when you sit up agitatedly, dragging you back towards him. You’d swat his head if he didn’t look so sleepy and unguarded, his face nuzzling back into the crook of your neck with a satisfied yawn.

Another glance towards your thighs makes you cringe.

Fuck.

Caleb was going to freak.

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kremnoans · 3 months ago

Text

ᴀ ʟɪᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ

✭ pairing(s): mydeimos x afab! gn reader

✩ inspo: lots and lots on nine inch nails.

★ summary: mydei is able to make you confess one of your deepest fantasies after you torment him with a scandalous depiction of him.

✧ a/n: mydei got meee soooooo fuckeddddddd upppppppppppp. ENJOYY. this will probably be the only time i write him being (relatively) rough.

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn reader, afab reader, porn with plot, p in v, predator/prey, biting, manhandling, marking, overstimulation, mating press, pronebone, creampie, breeding kink, aftercare, PROOFREAD

✎ wc: 8.9k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Kremnoans were quite the popular choice for a strong, dominant male lead in explicit novels. Given today’s market, and the Okhemans views on Kremnoans, romance has become quite popular these days. Perhaps it was just the circle you had been in online, but it seemed that all the newest books released were of this genre.

One of these books wasn’t so subtle, depicting a certain someone as the male lead for a book that was just full of… interesting scenarios. You preferred not to oversaturate your shelves with romance books, but when you heard your lover was depicted in this book, you couldn’t help yourself. You bought one right away. The idea of him knowing what part of the populace fantasized about him made you laugh.

You were sprawled out on the couch, holding the book above you as you read. Mydei, which you had tortured thoroughly with retellings of what the mcs had gotten up to, was sitting across from you in a lounge chair, trying to enjoy the sun. He had his eyes closed, head craned back as the sun casted warm rays from the balcony onto his skin.

“You know, if they knew you enjoyed basking in the sun like a cat, perhaps this book never would have been written,” You chuckle, looking over at him.

All he does is furrow his brows and grunt, not offering you much else to respond to. You sigh and go back to the book, barely halfway into it. You suppose you should have expected just how raunchy it was going to be, but with a sex scene right out of the gate and a poorly disguised breeding kink paired with an author who seemed like they wanted to write omegaverse, but couldn’t quite get behind the idea, no one could fault you for being surprised. The writing was bad, horribly so, but amusing nonetheless.

On top of that, the author had Mydei horribly wrong. You guess you can’t blame them though, they never had the pleasure of having the man in their bed. They wrote him as more beast than man, all grunts and huffs and occasional obscenities. They got his stamina right, though. Unfortunately, with an immortal lover, especially one forged in war, he had what seemed to be an endless amount of stamina, compared to yours.

Oftentimes, you found yourself tapping out by the third round. He was not cruel, either. He didn’t like to toy with the idea of overstimulating you, because when your moans turned into cries, it always reached his heart specifically. He always pulls away, cuddles you a bit, then draws you a bath.

The Mydei – which they have called… ‘Frydei’– in this book, however, did not give the main character a chance to tap out. He barely gave her aftercare. He was more of a walking red flag than the content cat in front of you.

To be honest, you couldn't really picture what you were reading. It was… a lot. The story was barely coherent with its sex scenes, even worse with its plot. The most you could make out on this page–

“Oh. He just tore off her lingerie,” You chime, not allowing Mydei a moment's peace.

“That's just redundant.” He responds with a hint of annoyance, finally opening his eyes.

“Right? Who would do that? Aside from–” You snicker, “My– Sorry, Frydei, of course.”

“For the last time, that is not my name.” He growls, finally giving you a reaction as he scowls.

“You're right, it isn't,” You tease, “It's only the protagonist of this book, who is very clearly not you.”

“I am going to take that book away from you, I swear it.” He says with a huff.

“What? Like I'm a child? You won't.” You tease, a fading laugh in your voice.

“I will. You’re acting like one.”

“You can go anywhere else in this house, you know. You wouldn't have to listen to me read it, but here you are. You've stayed here for an hour.”

Mydei falls silent, then opens his mouth after a beat to retort, only to find no words. He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, closing his eyes once more, the tips of his ears turning red.

“C'mon… have a little fun with me!” You sit up, looking towards Mydei, who seems to feel your stare, as his face begins to turn away. “It's not that bad if you laugh. Enjoy it!”

“Enjoy what? Those odd fantasies that people have of me? I am not that… brutish. Nor sex-crazed.” He says indignantly.

“Okay, I see your point. It is kinda weird when I think about it. But it's also kinda funny…”

“No, it is not.”

“Well, it's kind of no different than me telling you about my fantasies.”

“It is. That author is a stranger. You are my partner.”

“Okay, okay, you're right… but c'mon! Indulge me a little!”

“In… what, exactly? Do not tell me you dream of me doing those things to you.”

“I would never.”

Oh but you have. You so have. You do your best not to show it, but somehow your voice comes off as sarcastic rather than truthful. Which, in turn, leads Mydei to open his eyes once more and look at you, catching your gaze as your face blooms in all sorts of shades of red and pink.

Okay. You love Mydei, and you've really loved the sex with him. The lazy, indulgent sex, where he drags you along his cock, groaning your name while you draw out more moans from him. Even the rougher, more heated nights, when he has you pinned to the wall or bent over. You've always loved his desperation when it comes to you.

“You… are lying,” He gawks, brows furrowing as they always did while he tries to decipher your face. “Do not tell me you really want me to take you in those ways.”

You fluster, giving him a sheepish, awkward smile, before closing the book. No need for a bookmark, anyways. You bought this just to see how badly they butchered Mydei.

“No! Noooo… I really would never…” You brush off, tearing your gaze away from him. “It's not like I'd want you to chase me down like an animal and have your way with me or anything.”

It is like you'd like him to hunt you as his prey.

He calls your name. You fall still.

“Did you buy this book to read about your fantasies with me?” He stands from his chair, and you freak out internally.

“No... I bought it ‘cause it was funny,” At least that part was true.

“I don't believe you. You realize you can just talk to me–”

You clear your throat, then stand up quickly. It's clear this is starting to turn into a serious conversation, the way his words slow and his tone deepens. Just as you turn on your heels though, he grabs your wrist. He knows you all too well. His grip is something you can easily slip from, as to not hurt you.

“– As I was saying. You can just talk to me about any fanta–”

You clear your throat again.

“– sies or things you'd like to try. As long as it doesn't hurt–”

You clear your throat again, and pull your hand free of his grip. He doesn't chase after it, at least, not with his hands. You take one step, and he is behind you, crossing his arms and looking down at you. You really, really, don't want to look back.

“Will you let me finish? Or are you going to keep acting so childish?”

Yeesh. You'd rather not have to deal with a lecture, but now you're being scolded, too. He is right, however. You understand you're being childish. And while nothing has ever made you feel the need to be embarrassed around Mydei, there was a fantasy of yours that you were too ashamed to talk about. You don't know why, you were sure there were a million other things that were more debauched. And it wasn't like you thought he'd find it disgusting… you think. There was just an odd shame attached to the thought.

Taking notice of the way you relax, he steps back, giving you time to make a quick remark. When you don't, he continues,

“As long as it doesn't hurt you, I am willing to try,” He finally finishes, his own form relaxing. “You shouldn't have to read books about me in… those ways… just to live out a certain fantasy.”

“I swear that I did not get the book for that reason,” You defend yourself, still unable to meet his gaze as you turn around. “It has nothing to do with it... Okay, it sorta has something to do with it. But not in the way you think.”

“Care to tell me?” He raises an eyebrow.

“It’s really embarrassing…”

“Have I done something to make you feel that way about anything?” He takes a step closer to you, voice softening.

“... No…”

A silence falls between you two, as you shrink away from his gaze. He raises an eyebrow once more, and just as he decides to give it up–

“Please don’t make me explain predator and prey to you…”

He lets out a huff of laughter, uncrossing his arms. “That’s what you find embarrassing?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, placing a hand on your shoulder and staring down at you. “Why would I have any qualms with a desire like that?”

The way he looks down at you, piercing eyes heavy lidded, as he crowds you, sends a bolt straight to your core. It honestly catches you off guard. The corner of his lip twitches upwards, gracing you with a scorching smirk that makes your head spin.

For once, Mydei allows himself to indulge in your stupor. He reaches up and cups your cheek, running his thumb over your bottom lip. That in of itself chases away all your words. You’re too stunned to speak, and find yourself chasing after his hand. He hums in response, his smirk blossoming into a smile. His hand falls from your cheek, down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat, pressing the heel of his palm against the column of your neck. He doesn’t restrict your breathing, but the action causes you to whine. A sound that pleases Mydei even more.

You are, in essence, trapped. Even with the amount of space behind you, Mydei’s presence and the way he’s caging you in makes you feel trapped. A wonderful feeling that mingles with a hint of fear, which makes you feel lightheaded. Every single nerve of yours is alight with something close enough to adrenaline, your pulse jumping and skipping beneath his fingers.

“This…” He purrs, leaning closer, closer, even closer… “... is all it takes?”

With a proud smile, he lets go, leaving you momentarily dazed.

“In due time, my love,” He chuckles, clearly taking pleasure from leaving you on the edge. “I’d quite like to indulge in your fantasy. However, this room is not the place for such things. Let me find somewhere more fitting, then we can have our fun.”

You answer him with a feverish nod, watching as he takes his seat back down on the chair. You take notice of the way he readjusts his pants, but make no attempt to point it out. You look away sheepishly, fidgeting with your hands.

“At the very least, please throw away that book,” He breaks the silence, looking over at the book, still in your hands.

“No way! It’s gold, and also, that’s wasteful,” You huff, finally coming back to your senses.

“Please. I’ll get you something better. I’ll get you actual literature.”

“This is literature! It’s art, actually!”

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Mydei had chosen the Strife Ruins of Castrum Kremnos for your little… escapade. With Nikador gone, the danger there was waning. Not only that, but the gods would not be looking down on such debauched acts, either. There had still been titankin roaming around the area, but he made quick work of them the day before, not wanting to exert himself too hard the day of, nor risk getting you into any danger.

You had never seen Castrum Kremnos, not even its ruins. What you didn’t expect was the way into your ‘hunting ground’ being a massive chain raised high above the ground. As such, you ended up clinging to Mydei’s bicep, shaking your head fervently.

“You’re more than fine with me hunting you down, but you’re afraid of heights?” He scoffs, looking down at you as you wrap your arms around his, pressing further into him.

“One is something very exciting–” You huff, turning your head up so you wouldn’t look down. “The other could very well lead to death. Scratch that– will. I’m not immortal, Mydei.”

He responds with a hmph, wrenching his arm from your grip, before leaning down and scooping you up into his arms. You are quick to curl up in them, hiding your face in his neck as he starts to walk. You do your best not to think about the drop beneath you. Mydei’s steps are steady at least, and even if he had teased you earlier, he held you close. Unfortunately, it did little to abate your fear of the drop. The chain does not creak beneath you, the only sound within the ruins is the wind– which only serves to remind you with the height–, and the lightning.

A minute feels like five, and by the time you two reach solid ground (that isn’t raised several thousand feet above ground, or at the very least, has proper supports beneath it), your knees are weak. When you look behind you, a staircase leads down to the swaying chains that you were just on. The room was quite nice, more well kept than the rest of the ruins you’ve seen.

“This is where you’ll start,” Mydei places his hand on your head while you catch your breath, trying to still the shaking in your legs. He runs his fingers through your hair, either to calm you or–

You whine. You didn’t mean to, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Not because of the fading fear, no, the way that Mydei’s hand pets you feel oddly… small…? Well, yes, you were, compared to him. But you feel smaller. Like you could be easily overpowered by him. Which, he also could. He was toying with you. Waiting for you to calm down so you could run. He stared down at you with a beastly glint in his eye, as he shifted on his feet impatiently.

He preens at this noise that escapes you, but doesn’t do much else. He waits for you to make your decision, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers along his muscles. He was too calm. You stare for a second longer, and notice how his breath shook, and chest expanded with each breath of air. He was eager.

You won’t deny him any longer. Despite your shaky legs, and the rapid thumping of your heart, you start. As the mechanism for the door spins and unlocks, you look back at Mydei. He smiles. You run.

A heat that is almost foreign to you wracks your body. It clings to the muscle beneath your skin, a mix of adrenaline and something more; arousal. You can already feel the heat gathered between your legs, and you haven’t even started the proper chase yet.

The first room you end up in is a total nothing-burger, empty, with no place to hide. You turn to the hallway at the left, met with a staircase that leads to a bigger room. The ruins opened up above you, the dull light of the evernight shining down on you. A chill washes over you, before you continue up the staircase. It’s messy– of course it is, these ruins have been untended for far too long. Next to you lay a pile of rubble that descended from the floor above you, knocked over crates littering the corners with mechanisms. In front of you is a statue of what you assume to be Nikador.

When you step forward and look down the floor beneath you almost seems pristine, save for one or two stone pillars that were shattered. You step away, not wanting to accidentally slip and fall. Opposite of the rubble beside you, there is a door that is just a couple steps away. But, to you, that feels too easy. With a huff, you scramble onto the pile of stone, hopping over to the other side. Taking a couple more steps, you look down a rather tall hallway, which led to… nothing it seemed. Next to you, however, were two stairways. You choose the right stairway instead, the one with a narrow passage through the rubble seeming more promising, as you believed it led up higher.

As you ascend, you realize how quiet it is. You are alone. Possibly. Perhaps Mydei had chosen to forego the head start he told you he’d give you. After all, why should a predator be fair to his prey? That thought alone tears a low ‘haah’ from your throat, making the seat of your underwear wet. You pick up your pace, climbing up to the stairs faster.

You scramble once you reach the top, looking for some place to hide. Your earlier thought does little to quell the sudden fear of being watched. Even with the empty ruins, and the titankin dead, there is a lingering feeling, something in the back of your mind tells you that this silence is unnatural. Could Nikador possibly still be here? Or was it Mydei? You didn’t know, but the idea made your skin prickle. You end up hiding behind a pillar and some rubble, peering over the rock, watching the door you came from diligently.

You were right. Mydei emerged from the entrance shortly after you took up your position. His footsteps echo throughout the ruins, accompanied by the faint chimes of his jewelry. He was naked. You bite back a shudder as you ogle him from so far away, sinking further down as you do your best to stay calm. Even with how far he is from you, you can still see the vague ridges and lines of his body, accentuated by the evernight. He had left his necklace and armband on, yet had shed the rest of his clothes. You can’t help but wonder why, perhaps he was too impatient? You couldn’t fault him for that, considering how quickly you started to run.

You don’t get to think about it any longer. He begins to look around, and you duck completely behind the pillar and rubble to conceal yourself, curling up against it. You place a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up, just in case you were to shudder or whine. You can hear his footsteps, bare against the tile. By the sound of it, it seems he chooses not to take the route you did, as you hear his steps get fainter, quieter. You peek out just a little, to see where he’s going. He doesn’t go through the door, instead walking through a small path of rubble, towards a different door, almost parallel to the other one. He pauses for a moment, his movements quickly slow, and you duck back away.

It’s so quiet. You tremble a little, closing your eyes. You can hear his breath echo in the space, which soon turns into a grunt of irritation, or anticipation. It’s hard to tell. Then, he continues walking. You push yourself further against the rubble, as if there was a chance he truly could find you there. He keeps walking, walking, walking… you can hear him beneath you as he went further into the ruins, and it terrifies you. Your breath hitches and you press your legs together, either to keep trying to make yourself invisible or ward off the heat between your legs.

His footsteps continue beneath you. However, they start to fade once more, slowly, slowly, before disappearing all-together. You wait for another minute, curled up tight, until you are sure he’s really gone. Not a single sound rings out in the ruins as you do.

Slowly, you stretch out your legs, peeking out from behind the pillar and looking around. No sign of him below. You look across from you to the other floor and see nothing. Slowly, you stand up. Your legs shake, either from how hard you had just scared yourself, or adrenaline. Most likely both. With one more sweep across what you could see, you confirm he has left the room. Carefully, you make your way to the stairs, doing your best to stay silent. Your own footsteps echo all around you, even as you try to tip-toe your way down. You keep your hand latched over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your breathing.

You trace back what path you assumed he had taken, following the side of the stairs and rounding a corner. There had been a doorway just underneath the platform you were hiding on, which you hadn’t noticed. You step closer, heart beating faster. He must’ve taken this way down. Slowly, you lean forward, swaying gently, trying to see if he was simply hiding behind a corner.

Above you, you hear a ‘hmph’. Fear shoots up your spine and wracks your nerves, as you jerk your head up.

Mydei stands proud, staring down at you with a smirk. His arms crossed, as if he’s waiting for you to do something. Your stomach flip-flops as you stare up for another moment, before you finally choose to run. The minute you so much as flinch, you hear him turn around towards the stairway and run. This makes you yelp, his footsteps much heavier and faster. Fast. Titans, he’s fast. Faster than you.

Your legs burn as you muster all your strength to run. You make a dash for the door you saw earlier, and it opens just barely, causing you to hit your shoulder on the way out. You wince and cry out, but you don’t stop. You can hear his footsteps falter behind you at this, but soon pick up all too quickly.

Looking to your left, there is a rather large door that seems all too heavy to open, especially with this man so close behind. As you make your decision to run to the right, he lunges for you. As his arms reach out to catch you, you duck, and push with all your might, scrambling, but ultimately dodging him. It burns. You let out a sharp breath, barely pushing yourself up the stairs. You can hear him grunt behind you, clearly dissatisfied. You stumble for a second, the heat in your core throwing you off as you hear his borderline beastly breathing, but you don’t dwell on it, scrambling left and running up another set of stairs, and another. Unfamiliar with your surroundings, you have unintentionally cornered yourself. Only Mydeimos knows this. He is quite pleased with the route you’ve taken. You keep running further and further, the light from the moonlight above getting dimmer and dimmer as your legs begin to shake more and more, there's no chance anymore if he gets close again. You can only hear the sound of your own heartbeat and breathing as you step closer to whatever fate you've paved for yourself. And now, you realize you can no longer even hear him, not his footsteps, his breathing, not a single thing. The way you run so frantically only makes him harder, the head of his cock flushed a deep red, a pearl of precum forming, then clinging to his skin and dribbling down his shaft. He knows this hunt will be over soon enough. His breathing only gets heavier, a slight rasp in the back of his throat as he watches you. It has been far too long since he’s been this excited, desperate even.

With your heart pounding loudly in your ears, the only sound that rivals it now is your harsh breathing. You didn’t take notice of the way Mydei had slowed to a walk behind you and kept running. There was no time to think about the circular platform with the most redundant stairs you’ve seen, ones that circle around the platform and down, instead of leading straight down into the floor beneath it. You almost throw yourself off of the platform. You quickly duck, feeling as if Mydei would catch you, pushing yourself to the set of stairs. Taking two steps at a time, your mind finally catches up to where you are.

In front of you, a bridge to what is most likely the arena spans before you. The air is only slightly warm, as the air blows past, the heat rising from the magma beneath you, also flowing through the Kremnoan crest at the head of the stands. There’s not much more to think about, only one word following up as you begin to move. Run. You must run.

You continue on, despite the pain blossoming beneath your arm, the searing warmth tearing at your muscles, or even the way each breath feels as if you are drawing in ash into your lungs. You find yourself in the middle of the grand arena, the flames in the braziers still burning bright, the stands towering up behind them. You take another left, towards another heavy looking door. It doesn’t matter to you at this point, your body and mind both tell you to get away.

You scramble over the rock and rubble, pushing into the door to open it. The door clatters, but doesn’t budge. You push again and all it results in is a clank of the door hitting what you assume is rubble behind it. You whine as you try one more time, to no avail.

Behind you, a deep laugh rings out. You spin around quickly, met with your one and only. The faint light of the evernight, paired with the glow of the magma and fire casts a near ethereal glow on his figure. He opens his arm, a devilish smile gracing his lips as he walks towards you, his hair swaying with the wind, normally so kept, now disheveled, messy. The fear goes straight to your core, as you let out a wanton whimper and push against the door with desperation, even if you understood it wouldn’t open.

Mydei closes in, slowly. You take notice of the way his tattoos glow, something that makes you press your legs together. Closer, closer, closer he comes, and you find yourself frozen. All that running took so much out of you. You press against the door and crumple, a pitiful whimper escaping you and carrying across the wind. You watch as his cock twitches, each step closer making him seem more feral. He loved seeing you this way, loved the way you trembled, and most of all, adored the little whine that escaped your lips.

No longer able to take the suspense he was creating, he rushes up to you. You’re not even capable of registering what’s going on, before he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp as he begins to haul you back to the center of the arena, but you’re so tired that you can’t even feign an attempt at escape. The most you can do is mewl.

You give up, pliant in his arms. Eventually, he sets you down in the middle of the arena. The ground is cold, despite the lava flowing beneath the platform. He hovers over you for just a moment as if taking in his catch. Then, he hooks his thighs under your knees, locking your legs against his, propping himself up with his hands by your shoulders. He’s warm. So warm. It’s nice, if not dizzying.

He wastes no time, tugging the hem of your shirt up impatiently. He only seems to get warmer as your shirt is thrown off, discarded somewhere amidst the decorated arena. Just as eagerly, he pulls at your pants. Given the position, it’s a bit awkward, yet he struggles to pull back enough to pull them off. You do your best to wiggle your pants and underwear off as he pulls away, the minute the cloth drops, he’s back between your legs.

His cock slots between your pussy lips, causing you to let out a wanton moan. You are already so wet that it’s pathetic, it makes it easier for him to slowly drag his cock against your folds. He shudders above you, eyebrows knit together as his moan turns into a growl. His precum smears against your pussy, tip notching on your clit.

Leaning down, his lip meets yours, giving you no movement to protest as he cages you in with his body, and his lips. His tongue pushes past your lips when you moan, licking into your mouth lewdly. Your tongue presses against his, but doesn’t fight it, allowing him to have his way. He takes and takes, until you are a second short of gasping for air. He pulls back with a pant, a string of spittle keeping the two of you connected for just a moment, before it breaks, dribbling down your chin. You shouldn’t waste this, he decides, so he leans down and licks up from your chin, to your lips, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the corner of your lips.

You mewl and write beneath him, but in truth, his kiss warms you. You find yourself seeking out his warmth. He rewards you with grinding his cock against your pussy once more, making you moan into his ear. He can’t stand it anymore. His prey is so pretty beneath him, pathetic and tuckered out and in desperate need of satiation. He is hungry.

He pulls away further from you, causing you to whine in turn. He pulls his hips back as well, but doesn’t leave you yet. Instead, he pushes the tip of his cock into your heat. Your whine turns into a hot moan, head falling back against the stone floor.

Mydei’s big. A man of his stature is bound to be packing. You’ve gotten used to it, over time. Still, it’s a stretch. He pushes another inch in you and you arch your back, reaching up, your hands find purchase in his shoulders. You dig your nails into his skin, causing him to grunt and begin to rut into you, bullying his cock further into you. Pinned beneath him, his strong legs and arms caging you in, all you can find the strength to do is moan.

He leans back down, sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your cunt clamps around his cock and he groans, but does not let go of your flesh. It burns. It's a sharp pain that settles beneath your muscle and makes you feel dizzy. You lean your head against his and moan directly into his ear, toes curling and nails pushing even deeper into his skin as he finally hilts himself inside you.

He stops there for a moment, breathing– panting, chest heaving like just the act of shoving his cock into your cunt took so much out of him. His tattoos cast a warm, faint glow onto your body. You take it in, a rich, almost obscene beauty. He wasn’t exhausted, far from it. So perhaps he, too, had stopped to appreciate the view…?

Just as you look up to gauge his reaction, you feel a sudden burst of energy. As he pulls away from the bite, that little voice in the back of your head starts telling you to run once more, and adrenaline shoots through your veins. You writhe underneath him, hand pushing at his shoulders frantically. He growls, and instead, you start to push at his face. When his teeth part from your skin, you feel a brief moment of freedom. With a gasp of exhilaration, you feel his legs let up. You push away, pulling your knees into your chest and pushing at his side with the ball of your heel.

Mydei has had enough. With a growl, he grabs your thighs, now resting on his knees. He pushes them up, practically bending you in half. You whimper as his hands trail up to your knee, thumb pressing into the sensitive skin. With this, his cock drives deeper into you, stealing your breath away, causing you to gasp and finally, yield beneath him.

It seems he’s feeling merciful– or perhaps the opposite, you can’t tell which–, because he stops. Completely. He stares down at you, his golden gaze only serving to stoke the flame that began beneath your stomach. You meet his gaze, and feel smaller. You shrink away (or, as much as you can in that position), before looking anywhere but his face. Your eyes land on the sight between your legs, his cock buried within your pussy, an image of sweet– if not lewd– joining. The way his hips were pressed up against yours, the glow of his tattoos, and the fact that you could just barely see the base of his cock from between your legs.

Your body reacts before you can, heat clutching him, as if trying to suck him in impossibly further. You want to call his name, but all that escapes your lips is a breathy, low moan. Mydei pulls back teasingly slow, as if he was enjoying the feel of your walls, every groove and contour. This movement alone already had you panting, though, that could also be chalked up to your earlier struggle. Regardless, just before he pulls the tip out, his hips cant forward, as slowly as before.

You don’t get to complain, the man finally leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. Then, he begins to thrust, forcing you to open your mouth to moan. He takes what he wants then, lapping into your mouth fervently, drinking down every single one of your moans, gasps, and whines. He does this until you are one second short of breath, before finally tearing away. You both pant, breath mingling as he continues to fuck into you.

You close your eyes and use the back of your hand to cover your mouth, muffling your little breathy moans. You don’t get to for long though, because the minute he hears anything less than the desperate way you were moaning earlier, he reaches down and pulls your hand away by the wrist. When you try to cover your mouth with the other hand, he grunts, brings your legs up to his shoulders, grabs both wrists, and pins them down to the ground above you.

Your hands clench as you try to wrench them free, but his grip only tightens. You whine and huff, as his pace starts to pick up, pounding into you with much more force, as if he were just opening you up earlier. It’s hot. You feel so hot, dizzy, and wonderful. Each thrust pushes you further and further away from lucidity. You give up on trying to pull your hands free, instead, you keen as the tip of his cock bullies your g-spot, over and over again.

Perhaps it is the position, or your previous exertion, your body is so tired yet so pliant, but you feel the flame beneath your stomach burn incessantly warmer. Your breathing comes out much more ragged as you pant, biting your lip and trying so desperately to will your orgasm away. Mydei doesn’t let you, of course. So well attuned to your body, he understood that the moment your pussy had squeezed him so tightly, as if to keep him there, that you were so damn close. At this, he drives into you just a tad bit faster, which, in turn, makes it achingly hard to hold back. You roll your head back once more, eyes shut tight as your toes curl and you arch your back. His hands find yours just at your peak, the tight little knot finally snapping as euphoria washes over you.

Your thighs twitch and tense, stomach fluttering with your breathing as you let yourself go around Mydei’s cock. Your head feels hazy, a tingling sensation wracks your body. You don’t get time to relish in the feeling, the constant rutting of Mydei’s dick against your core quickly brings you back down, causing you to wriggle underneath him once more. He squeezes your wrists, and you fall still, but that doesn’t stop the way your own hips start to grind. The movement isn’t necessarily the greatest given the way he was holding you. But, it makes him groan above you all the same.

He doesn’t let up. His thrusts only get more forceful, his breathing heavy and labored. His fingers flex, nails digging into your knuckles. You squeeze back out of instinct, something to help ground you– which, in this case, it did fuck all, considering he was doing his absolute best to fuck you dumb; and, it was working.

Despite his increased fervor and desperate pace, he still seemed to enjoy taking his sweet time torturing you. He leans down once more, hot breath fanning over your skin. You feel goosebumps prickle up at the contact, before his tongue laps over his previous mark. A strained ‘haah..’ leaves your mouth, earning you what you assumed to be a chuckle in return.

Your head swims as he continues his feverish pace, and it is not long before he manages to pull another orgasm from you. Your heat clutches around him as you keen, and he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he continues to rut into you through your orgasm. The hazy, heavenly feeling that washed over you was given an edge, a strong hand bringing you straight back down from the clouds of euphoria. Every thrust doesn’t hurt, at least, not yet, but your legs and bottom start to feel numb.

Mydei knew he had tired you out, long before he had even caught you. Even with that measly burst of energy you had shown him earlier, he understood that you had expended most, if not, all of your energy. Given the fact that you were already two orgasms in as well, you must be overstimulated.

With great effort (and restraint), Mydei pulls out. You only register this when he lets go of your hands, but before you can mewl or whimper, he grabs your hips, flipping you over. Taken by surprise, you land on your forearms and knees rather harshly. You don’t get a chance to protest– not that you could, words had left you long ago–, before he pushes his cock back inside your cunt. It makes you gasp, inadvertently pushing back and grinding against him. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip, nails leaving little crescent-shaped dimples in the skin. His other arm props himself up by your head.

He holds still for a moment, savoring the way you still clamp around him, even with how exhausted you are. Overstimulated and still wanting… oh how lovely you were for him. He rewards you with a low moan, the effect that you have on him makes his own head swim. If this were any other circumstance, he’d believe he was pathetic for how quickly he wanted to come in this position.

Doing his best to gather himself, he starts to thrust again, his breathy groans turning into grunts as he starts to chase his own high. He leans back down, his body shadowing over you, reminding you of just how weak you are. You tremble as he leans his head down, suppressing a whine as he begins to lick at the skin on the back of your neck. You, unable to hold back the sound bubbling in your throat, let out a strangled moan. The warmth of his tongue and the agonizing closeness of his teeth paired with the growing numbness crawling up through your legs makes you want to break.

Mydei does before you, teeth sinking into your neck as his breathing becomes rapid. The warmth that floods your cunt feels almost unbearable in a sinful way. You want to push up against him and milk him for what he’s worth, at the same time you just want to collapse and let him have his way. You are so exhausted, yet so insatiable. You got what you wanted, right? You were chased, caught, fucked, and filled. And you’ve never felt better. Your thoughts are barely coherent, the most lucid string of words you can form in your head is that you're good. Once he’s spent, his mouth leaves your skin. But he doesn’t stop entirely.

His thrusts start to become more sloppy, hand falling from your hip to join his other one up by your head. You kept your ass up and pressed against him obediently, even as your thighs shook. You felt caged. Trapped. You were trapped. You were his prey and you were properly caught. His strong arms above you, his body above you. It made you impossibly hot, causing you to squeeze his cock. Above you, he groans, before his hips stop.

You don't ask why, prey shouldn't ask why.You don’t need to, either. Predators shouldn't toy with their prey. His hips are flush against your ass, chest heaving, jewelry dangling just within hands reach. But he isn't done, no, Mydeimos is never done. He hasn't had his fill.

His hot breath ghosts across the back of your neck. You bite your lip, a new wave of fear and danger washing over you. Every nerve screams at you to pull away, run, but you don't. You're good. You're good prey. After all, you've been caught.

His teeth meet your flesh once more, this time sinking deeper, making sure that mark on the back of your neck stays fresh. It feels as if the skin is about to break, his breath and saliva seeping onto your heated flesh. You shiver, and whine, pressing your ass further against him. He doesn't move. He stays there for a while, staking his claim. Your stomach flutters with every harsh breath you take, cunt clamping around him in turn.

You whine again, fingers digging into the cold ground beneath you. Only then does he pull away. You feel your skin stick to his teeth for a moment, little lines of spittle connecting his teeth to your warm flesh as he pulls away. The air quickly cools his saliva over, causing another shiver to wrack your body.

There is no time to think about this bite, he allows you no time. With sharp, harsh, half-thrusts, he begins fucking back into you. He barely pulls his cock out a centimeter and he's rutting back into you, every pass earning a grunt from him. You can see the veins in his arms tense with every thrust, his fingers flexing with every moan. The sound of his necklace jangling with every push.

Within the empty ruins, the obscene harmony of skin against skin echoes through the bones of what once was. Each thrust has you retreating into your hands, pushing your face further into the ground. Mydei does not help keep you up this time. When your legs give out, thighs painted with dried arousal and cum, his previous release dripping slowly from your folds, to your clit, onto the stone floor, he only fucks back into you.

Body pressed flat against the floor, he adjusts himself so he's holding himself up by his forearms, strong arms blocking out the little light that remained in the ruins. His chest now pressed flush against your back, you can feel every ridge, every muscle, and how they tense and twitch as he continues to drive into you. His grunts turn into half-moans, and he finally, finally looks down at you.

His mouth is agape, drool lining the bottom of his lip, like he was just as hungry as you were. His eyebrows knit together, eyes holding a ferocity you have not even seen in battle. It makes you whimper. He smiles. It is a predatory grin, one that shows off his teeth, a clear sign of intimation. It works. You shrink further into the safety of your hands (and his arms), panting heavily, looking up at him and batting your teary lashes, as if to beg him for mercy.

The mercy you get is not from him. Your body, under the pressure it's been subjected to, refuses to give you warning signs anymore. Your toes curl and your belly tenses as you arch your back, coming weakly on his cock. You whine and mewl, closing your eyes and craning your neck. The sight of your throat beared to Mydei is pure torture for him. From this angle, he cannot reach it. It causes him to jerk his hips, pushing impossibly further into you.

You pant heavily, laying your head on your arms. You whine pathetically and shudder under his gaze. Unfortunately, this Mydeimos isn't feeling as tender as he normally would. He hasn't had his fill. And you, you are so good, you will allow him to take what he wants. Until he was sated.

With a particularly hard thrust, Mydei jostles your body, causing you to pull away from your hands. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he drives into you. You can’t help the pathetic little moans that fall from your lips, accompanied by the desperate groans that come from Mydei’s throat as he chases his high once more.

He, too, seems to have lost all coherent thought. His barely restrained hesitance from earlier washes away, replaced by an almost reckless need to finish. It’s almost primal, and if he were in his right mind, he’d be embarrassed with how easily he fell into that ‘predator’ mindset. But, he isn’t, and as of now, he holds no shame as he ruts into you like an animal, head heavy as he soaks in all the little pathetic noises you make underneath him. The way your cunt clamps around him, overstimulated but oh so desperate, it’s enough to make him cum embarrassingly early. A lucid part of his mind wants so badly to lean in and kiss you and lick into your mouth and take all he wants as he crests, but instead, he pushes himself back up, once more caging you in with your arms, but leaving you with space between your bodies.

You whimper, already missing that closeness– so close, so goddamn close, his entire weight keeping you down–, but his mind barely registers this. His ears fill with static (or perhaps, he is willingly ignoring all your little pleas), and he finds coherency and perhaps even humanity slipping away from him. All that remains in his mind is the need to orgasm. He looks down, and– ah, the sight of the mark that brandishes your skin, where he sank his teeth, goes straight to his balls. His thrusts stumble once more, the most pathetic sound you have ever heard from him spilling from his lips. It means you’re his, all his, only his. His, his, his. Perhaps he, too, would like you to mark him in the same way.

A thought that is quickly chased away. He hasn’t even noticed that he’s managed to pull a fourth orgasm from you by now. No, he is close. So goddamn close. Every thrust of his is like sparks, filling you with a sharp, but heady pleasure, bordering on pain. You feel your mind blank as he pushes his hips flush against your ass, a strangled grunt filling the air. Barely moments later you feel warmth flood your pussy once more. You can feel his thighs tremble slightly as he cums, hips jerking weakly with every wave.

Once Mydei was finished, he practically collapses on top of you. His warmth was missed. His chest heaves as his arms wrap around you, scaring away the chill of the stone floor seeping into your skin. He nuzzles into your neck, lapping at the skin as… an apology, maybe? You can’t quite tell, your own mind is a jumbled mess.

He pulls out slowly, the drag of his cock against your walls making your own thighs shake for a second, mewling softly. You can feel his release ooze out of you a moment later, a strange sense of fulfillment and contentment washing over you as you find yourself basking in the aftermath. Both of you sated and tired, now absorbing the deafening silence of the ruins.

Mydei only pulls you closer, huffing against your skin. He doesn’t pull back for a long time. His weight grounds you, allowing you to collect yourself, even in your debauched state. Even as his breathing evens out, he doesn’t pull away, eyes closing as his hands smooth down your arms, and you can feel a smile grace his lips. Only then does he pull away, looking down at you with a soft smile and blush; a rare sight that causes warmth to bloom in your chest.

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

The water in the baths is quite soothing for your muscles, now aching and protesting against the… ‘physical activity’ you two had gotten up to just barely an hour before. Mydei sat next to you, arm wrapped around your shoulders. He leans back, staring down at you as you soak, eyes closed. His gaze breaks from the back of your head every now and then, trailing down to the mark he had left you. He does his best not to reach out and trace it, worrying that it might be tender. You moved so stiffly when you two came back, and now he can’t help but feel a bit of remorse. But you were quite happy.

“Hmm,” He hums above you, instead choosing to place his hand on your shoulder and squeeze lightly.

You open your eyes and look up at him, leaning further into his touch. His eyes meet yours, incredibly soft. Despite the man that took you so thoroughly earlier, his kindness does not escape you. You’ve always quite enjoyed this side of him, even if he was still stubborn. Reaching up, you cup his cheek, and he leans down obediently. Your lips meet his, the kiss is sickeningly sweet and tender. His lips are still slightly chapped, yet oh so warm. This warmth travels through you once more, making you feel dizzy. You can only pull back with a giggle, but he follows your lips to steal one more fleeting kiss.

Satisfied that he’s stolen a couple kisses and reassured himself that you were okay, the stands up from the bath with a grunt. You watch him walk away, making his way to the kitchen. But, he stops just before he disappears from your view, before he sighs heavily.

“I thought I asked you to throw this away,” He crosses his arms and comes back into view, holding up a book. That book.

“Awh, c’mon, I told you it’s art,” You shrug, trying to brush it off. Like hell you were going to throw it away.

“It is not. It’s abhorrent, really. I’m going to throw it away for you.” With that, he turned on his heels. You fluster, before pushing yourself up and out of the bath and scrambling towards him, not caring about the wet trail you leave.

You wrap your arms around his back, understanding you won’t be able to pry the book from his hands, but you could at least slow him down.

“Enough. You really shouldn’t be attached to this book. I’m right here.” He grunts, but makes no effort to shrug you off.

“You are. But the book is kinda good now that I think about it,” It really, really isn’t. But, to you, it was still funny. “You and the male lead have so much in common–”

“– No. We do not.” He growls, looking back at you.

“Well when I think about what we did…”

“That’s because you asked for it. I was simply indulging in your desires.”

“But… you were rough–”

“– Were. I am not rough normally, you know this,” He finally pushes you off.

“Okay, you’re right,” You sigh dramatically and step back, crossing your arms like a petulant child. “When it comes down to it though, you were kinda like how you were in the book.”

“It is not me in this book.”

“Right. What I mean is you were kinda like Frydei–”

“I am not. You told me what you wanted and I followed through, did I not?”

You deflate a little, finally accepting the book's fate. It was only a matter of time, truly. Plus, it's not like you couldn’t just read it online. Not that you were reading it for fun. To have the book physically, though… Well, it made you happy. Not because of the contents, but the fact that it made Mydei squirm made you laugh. You loved him, yes, but sometimes it was entertaining.

Now, however, he stands before you, grabbing the book by both sides. You cringe as he rips the book in half. No book– even one as awful as that– should suffer such a fate.

“Now,” He huffs, making his way out of the bedroom. “I’m going to buy you something actually worth reading.”

“Ah! But–” You finally snap out of your daze, following after him.

“Not ‘but’s. Seems I need to show you what true literature is. Or, as you called it, art.”

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