#but even if they were I would not call them that
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vmpireslut · 3 days ago
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BRAT TAMER! 𝜗𝜚
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sum𝜗𝜚 toji despises working. he'd rather be off gambling, losing himself in the thrill and chaos of the games. but then he meets you, his new client's spoiled daughter. it's okay, though... he's a brat tamer.
wc𝜗𝜚 6.6k [oopsie]
warnings𝜗𝜚 SEMI PROOF-READ, older!pervtoji, masterbation, fingering, female + male oral, cum eating, squirting, creaming, choking, spitting, explicit language, toji is kind of mean, reader is annoying, age-gap [reader is 19 toji is 35] just a whole lot of nasty shit, enjoy hornies!
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Toji Zenin really hated working. The same boring tasks, the long hours, the wear and tear on his body, and the relentless sun made every day feel like a drag. But there was one thing that made it all a bit more bearable: his client. More specifically, his client’s daughter. Sure, it was a bit taboo to have thoughts about a girl so much younger, but he couldn’t help himself.
Those shorts of yours were always way too tight, hugging your curves like they were made for you. And those shirts? Toji was pretty sure you didn’t even own a bra, especially with how your nipples would poke through the fabric whenever he caught a glimpse of you.
You had no shame, showing off that gorgeous body and cute face at every opportunity. It was like you wanted to be noticed in those revealing outfits, strutting around in swimsuits that left little to the imagination. He’d even seen your pussy lips once as you’d bent down near the pool, he remembers because he’d spent the entirety of his lunch break fisting his raging boner in a hot portable toilet.
Not exactly his finest hour.
You were undeniably a brat, completely indulged by your widowed father who was eager to fulfill every whim of his precious daughter. With wealth, a stunning home, a devoted dad, and your charming looks, it was no surprise that you carried the air of entitlement. Toji, however, found a certain appeal in your spoiled nature; he preferred you as a brat rather than a timid wallflower. From his perspective, brats were easier to tame. Most days, he found himself lost in fantasies of you. Daydreaming about your pretty little cunt warped about his cock.
It frustrated him how deeply you had woven yourself into his life. He couldn’t even get into it with his casual fling anymore unless he pictured you, and man, did that feel amazing.
"Dad!"
Speak of the Devil. The sound of your voice filled the air just as the front gate slammed behind you. Fresh from your weekly shopping spree with friends, you made your entrance. Toji felt a surge of frustration as the sharp click of your heels echoed on the cement. He turned away from his work space, his gaze fixed on you as you sauntered over, your hips swaying and oversized sunglasses perched on your nose.
He couldn't help but observe as you approached your father, a look of irritation etched on your face. Perhaps you had finally hit your credit card limit. With a sulky pout and arms crossed beneath your perky breasts, you pushed them up, and his thoughts spiraled.
Toji wanted nothing more than to rip the tank top off your body, pull your nipples between his fingers and twist them until you were crying.
"My card was declined!"
Toji struggled to suppress a laugh, biting down on the inside of his cheek. What a foolish little brat. Your father shot you a disapproving glance, and you let out an exasperated huff, stomping your foot like the spoiled child you were.
"I was at the mall trying to buy a cute dress, and the card didn't go through! So, I called the bank and they said it was declined!"
Your father sighed, and Toji could have sworn he saw the old man roll his eyes. He must have been fed up with having to coddle an adult woman.
"Listen, sweetheart. I already mentioned that I won't be giving you another allowance until next week. Perhaps it's time you learned how to manage your money, or maybe I should restrict your card usage. Clearly, this isn't working out." You gasped in response, and Toji couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback.
Maybe your dad wasn't as soft as he seemed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having to handle a spoiled daughter like you.
“That's so unfair!" You cried, turning away from your dad, arms flailing and he swore he saw you kick a rock like a toddler having a tantrum. "I hate this fucking place! It's so hot and the bugs are everywhere. I can't stand it! Shopping is the only thing that keeps me sane." You yelled.
He noticed your dad wince, and Toji could already picture the headache brewing in the man's mind. "Mind your language," he said calmly, but you just scoffed.
"Or what?"
Toji could predict how this would unfold. Your dad would let out a resigned sigh and give in, while you'd strut away with a triumphant grin.
"Go to your room; you're done for the day. Sit there and think about your behavior. You're clearly too worked up," he said, and you stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" you yelled, and he shook his head.
"I mean it. You're too agitated, and I don't want you to say or do something you'll regret later. Please, just go to your room," he insisted, and Toji had to suppress a laugh. It was clear you were at a loss for how to respond. You stomped your feet again and huffed in frustration.
"Fine."
As you marched toward your room, the sound of your heels echoed sharply, culminating in a loud slam of the door. Your father exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose while muttering softly to himself. "Kids..." he murmured, glancing at Toji with a sympathetic expression.
"I apologize for that. She's dealing with a lot at the moment." Toji responded with a reassuring shake of his head. "It's all good," he said, prompting a smile from your father.
“Thank you Toji. You’re a great guy, and you’ve done an amazing job with building the shed so far.”
“Thanks, sir,” he responded. Your dad turned his gaze toward your bedroom window, and Toji’s eyes followed suit. You were anxiously pacing, phone pressed to your ear, a scowl etched on your face. Your father frowned, and Toji cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air.
Toji had never really had a conversation with you, and the only time he did, you had unleashed a torrent of curses at him. It was his first day on the job, and you had come down wearing nothing but a silk pink robe, clearly annoyed at being stirred from your sleep so early in the morning.
He stood there, taking in the sight of you descending the steps, the silk draping around your figure. He could see the gentle curves of your body, the outline of your bare breasts, the shape of your hips, and the smoothness of your legs.
"Do you realize how ridiculously early it is? It's seven, you dick!" You shot, glaring at Toji with a fiery intensity. He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your attitude. It was obvious you were still in the process of waking up, not fully aware of who was standing there.
"Miss, I recommend you mind your language," he replied, and he could have sworn he noticed a shiver run through you. Your lovely lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping, and Toji had to fight the urge to grin. So, you enjoyed being spoken to like that. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking down at you with a playful smirk.
He didn’t spare you a second glance, not even flinching when the front door slammed shut behind you. From that moment on, you shot him daggers every time he crossed your path, throwing out sarcastic remarks whenever your father was out of earshot. Your behavior only escalated, and Toji was certain your dad was on the verge of exploding. But Toji believed he could change you; he was confident he could take that defiant attitude and transform it. He was certain of it. He would fuck that ego right out of you and mold it into a perfect little slut, ready and willing to please him.
"I still have a few tasks to finish up around the house. Thanks again, Toji," your father remarked, and Toji simply nodded.
"Absolutely."
The two shared a smile and the older man went back inside, leaving Toji to his thoughts. His mind wandered to all the possibilities and ways he could take you apart. He could see it now, his large hand holding yours down, forcing you to stay still as he pounded into your tight cunt. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight as he made you cum, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. He'd pull out and force his cock down your throat, forcing you to choke on him. He'd fill you with his seed, spilling everything down your throat, watching as you swallowed his hot cum, a blissful look on your face.
God, the thoughts were intoxicating.
He would break you, mold you, bend you, and make you his own personal toy. You were going to be his.
He would make sure of it.
Your father had kept his promise; he had cut off your credit card and confined you to the house. It felt like a never-ending limbo. Most of your days were spent buried in a cheesy romance novel by the pool or dozing off. For the past few weeks, your dad had been working late, leaving you to dine solo and binge-watch reruns of old TV shows. It was downright dismal.
He even spent his evenings holed up in his office, tackling whatever tasks awaited him. The atmosphere was heavy with loneliness. You could sense his disappointment in your behavior, but who could really blame you? This house was a snooze fest. While your friends were off enjoying their summer adventures, you were stuck here.
They couldn’t even swing by to visit because of their packed schedules. Still, they called regularly, sharing tales of their escapades and new crushes. You appreciated their efforts to keep you in the loop, but those conversations only filled the emptiness for so long.
Today, you decided to lounge by the pool, soaking up the sun on a comfy chair. You donned your favorite bikini, a stylish white and gold set, the straps loosely tied, barely holding everything in place. The high-waisted bottoms accentuated your curves perfectly. Beside you, a refreshing glass of lemonade and a colorful mix of fruits—cherries, pineapples, and more—sat waiting. Your book lay on your stomach, eager for your attention once more.
The pool was stunning, and it had always been one of your favorite places to escape to. The water sparkled like crystal, the waterfall cascaded beautifully, and the palm trees swayed gently above. It was the sole reason you tolerated living in such a sweltering climate. However, there was one major drawback: the man who is building the shed. Toji, you learned was his name.
You couldn't stand him. He was insufferably rude and full of himself. His looks only made matters worse. You despised how incredibly handsome he was. You had never encountered a man so striking before. The definition of his arms, the chiseled jawline, and the width of his shoulders were infuriating.
His dark eyes, sun-kissed skin, and flowing dark hair only added to your irritation. It was maddening how flawless he appeared. Just the thought of him made your blood boil. He was so self-satisfied and arrogant, and the way he acted like he was superior to you drove you up the wall.
“Whatcha reading?”
You startled at the sound of his voice, glancing over to find Toji casually leaning against the patio door, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His white button-up shirt was rolled up, showcasing his well-defined arms. A warm flush crept across your cheeks. Why the fuck was he so handsome?
"What do you want?" you shot back, setting your book aside.
"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," he said, striding over to the chair beside you and pulling it closer. "Your dad mentioned he’d be working late and I thought I could order dinner for you," he added, a hint of mischief in his tone, causing your brows to knit together in confusion.
"Why the hell would you order dinner for me? I can do it myself.”
"Because I'm a nice guy, and it would suck for a pretty girl like you to have to fend for herself." He responded, a sly smile on his lips and you couldn't help the small shiver that went down your spine. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled your eyes.
"Yeah, right. You just want to get in my pants. Don't try to act like a good guy, I know exactly who you are. My dad's a great guy, he'd never hire a creep like you."
"Is that what you think?"
You didn't answer, a scowl forming on your face.
"Well, if I'm a creep, then what does that make you?"
"What?"
"Come on, don't act dumb. I know you get off on teasing me."
"You're a fucking pervert.”
"Maybe."
His grin was wolfish, and he looked predatory, leaning forward and staring you down. "Tell me, have you been a good girl lately? Or have you been naughty?"
"I-"
"You've been very bratty lately. I know your dad's getting sick of it."
You swallowed thickly, a blush coating your cheeks. How could he read you so well?
"But, don't worry. I can fix you."
"Fix me? What are you talking about?"
"You're spoiled. And I'll change that."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I know you want it. I can tell."
He leaned back, his arm resting on the back of the chair.
"And, if you're good, I'll reward you."
"Reward me?"
He grinned and nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear.
"Yes. If you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like the slut you are."
He pulled back, the grin never leaving his face.
"Think about it, princess."
He winked, standing up and turning away, a chuckle leaving him.
You were speechless, your heart racing, and a blush coloring your cheeks. The heat pooled between your legs and you shifted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think you would let him fuck you?
Who were you kidding, you were already soaked.
"Dick..." You muttered, shaking your head.
That night, you couldn't get him out of your head. The way his words had sent shivers down your spine, the way his gaze had been filled with lust. It was so...wrong, but it was a wrong you wanted. You didn't care, and the idea of getting caught only added to the thrill. You'd already spent an hour in the shower, the warm water and the detachable shower head bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. You could still hear his voice, the raspy tone, the way his words dripped with sex and lust. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he had you right where he wanted. You could hear his chuckle echoing in your head, his grin filling your mind.
It was sad, really.
How could a man you didn't even like have this effect on you?
It was ridiculous.
You couldn't believe you were letting him get into your mind.
He was a fucking creep.
A handsome, sexy, confident creep.
A sudden knock at the door jolted you from your reverie, causing you to startle and sit up abruptly. You quickly snatched a towel, wrapping its comforting softness around you before swinging the door open. There he stood, the man who had been lingering in your thoughts.
" What the hell are you doing here?!"
"I brought the pizza. I told you I was getting dinner." He replied, a grin on his lips and you scoffed.
"Why did you bring it up here?"
"I was trying to be nice, and besides. I didn't know when your dad was going to be home."
He stepped forward, forcing his way into the room, and setting the box down on the bed.
"You're such a dick." You muttered, crossing your arms.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"What's wrong with me bringing food to the boss' daughter?"
"Nothing. But, that's not why you're here."
"And, what do you think I'm here for?"
"Don't play dumb, you already told me."
"Oh, is that right?" He chuckled. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"
You were taken aback by his sudden question, your eyes widening.
"Whaa—No, I don't."
"Then, why are you so wet?"
“I just got out of the shower wise guy. Get out.”
He grinned and stepped closer, and you took a step back.
"Y’know, the walls are thin. So, it's easy to hear the moans and gasps of a girl when she touches herself. But, hey. What would I know? I'm just a construction guy."
You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he really heard you masturbate?
"S-shut up. I don't know what you're talking about.” You felt your heart race and the towel slip down slightly. You moved to fix it, and he stepped forward, his hand moving towards your neck.
"Let me take care of that for you."
He gripped the towel, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. There was a fierce hunger in him, as he explored your mouth with fervor. His tongue danced inside, teasing the roof of your mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to your breasts, fingers pinching your nipple with a playful intensity earning a whine from you. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down to your neck, planting soft kisses that turned into gentle bites on your sensitive skin. As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across his face as he gazed down at you.
"Get on the bed."
"Wha-what?"
"Get on the bed."
You were surprised by his commanding tone, and you could feel your cunt aching. You walked towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and you fell back. You looked up at him, and he smiled.
"Take off the towel."
You did as he said, pulling the towel away and revealing your naked body. He licked his lips, a hungry expression in his eyes.
"Touch yourself."
Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back. you began to rub your sensitive clit. You were already wet, the thought of being watched had made you dripping. The pleasure that shot through you made your knees weak and your eyes fluttered closed.
You heard his voice again, this time closer to your ear and you shuddered.
"Good girl."
“Oh god..."
"Spread your legs wider."
You whimpered, moving your legs farther apart and you sank a finger inside of you. Your body quivered as you slowly began pumping your hand and the warmth began to build in your belly.
"Yes...that's it."
You cried out softly as you slipped another finger inside of you, pumping them faster and faster. Your body tingled. Toji watched, his cock aching for release in his pants. You looked so slutty spread out for him like this, slickness leaking down your ass. He wanted to shove his dick into your hot, tight pussy, but he restrained himself. You were his to command.
"Faster. Fuck yourself faster."
"Nghh...I-I..."
"Come for me, kitten."
You moaned, your walls clenching around your fingers. You were already sore from your previous orgasms, but you felt another one quickly coming. You moved your hips, trying to get more friction.
"That's right. Ride your hand like a little whore. Cum for me. Now."
"A-Ahh!"
Your hips bucked against your hand and you came, squirting over your fingers and onto the floor. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you sank down into the matress.
Toji growled lowly, the sight of your glistening pussy and the smell of your sex made him feel dizzy. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and stroked it quickly, his thumb rubbing over his fat tip. You felt him climb onto the bed and his hand gripped the back of your neck.
"Open your mouth."
You obeyed, gasping as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your tongue. He pumped his hand, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth.
"Take my cock...nghh."
Toji groaned, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up. You could feel him twitching on your tongue. You moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through him. His hand squeezed the back of your neck tighter.
"Suck harder ughh."
Your eyes rolled back into your head as he forced his entire length down your throat, the tip of his cock touching the back of your tongue. Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to breathe.
"Mmghhh."
You tried to relax your throat, sucking on his cock the best you could. Your hands clenched the sheets.
"That's a good girl."
He grunted, his cock pulsating.
"M-Mmm You take me so well, kitten.”
You were drooling, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. It was disgusting. He pulled back and you took a deep inhale.
"Did I tell you to stop?"
"N-no."
"No, what?"
"No, sir."
"Then get back to work."
"Yes, sir."
He growled and thrust his hips.
"Good, baby."
He groaned, hands finding themselves in your hair.
"Fuck. I'm gonna come soon. You ready for me, baby? Gonna swallow every drop?"
"Yes, please."
"Good, good girl."
His thrusts became faster and more erratic, his breathing shallow.
"Ahh. Fuck, yeah. G’na come."
He hated how fast he was nearing his end, but the way you gobbled him down and squeezed his balls in time with your tongue had him spiraling. Your every movement was calculated, each flick of your tongue and squeeze of your hand driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the tension building within him, a mix of pleasure and desperation that left him breathless. The intensity of your touch, combined with your unwavering eye contact, made it impossible for him to hold back any longer.
“Ughhhh fuckkkkk!” He threw his head back and came, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed down your throat. You swallowed, moaning and milking him for everything he had. You felt him shiver, his muscles tensing as he came down. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and wild.
He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up to your feet and crushing his mouth to yours. You could feel the heat from his body and you melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck. He was heavy and hot, pressing you into the mattress. He kissed his way down your chest and stomach, his fingers brushing the wet folds of your pussy.
"Toji!”
"Mm, you're still so wet."
"F-for youuuu."
"You like being touched like this?"
"Uh huh."
He slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb brushing your clit. You whined, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. You writhed underneath him, his name a constant prayer. He added another finger, stretching you, finding that special gummy spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly.
A desperate whine leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls away, tucking his cock back into his pants. You look up at him, pouting.
"What? What's wrong?"
"You didn't fuck me."
"That wasn't the plan, princess."
"I hate you. Pervert.”
He chuckles, patting your thigh.
"No, you don't."
He gets up and walks out of the room, leaving you panting and unsatisfied.
"Fucking dick.”
Toji had you completely under his spell. His piercing gaze and self-assured presence made it impossible for you to look away. Each time you attempted to shift your focus elsewhere, your mind would inevitably circle back to him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him was magnetic, pulling you in deeper.
He was aware of the effect he had on you. A glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes whenever he caught you watching him. It was as if he relished the control he held, knowing you were utterly entranced by his aura. Despite your attempts to fight it, a rush of excitement coursed through you every time he was close.
It became a familiar pattern where Toji would bend you over, his fingers exploring you until you either squirted or cried out his name in ecstasy. Yet, he never crossed that final line, leaving you both frustrated and yearning. Your father noticed your newfound cheerfulness, but you brushed it off with a casual shrug. Eventually, he returned your credit card and lifted your grounding, but your thoughts remained consumed by Toji.
“Oh yeah honey, I invited Toji over for dinner.”
You froze, and looked up from the raw chicken.
"What? Why?"
"I wanted to thank him for helping us out, he’s done a great job. Don’t ya think?”
"Why can't we just send him a gift basket or something?"
"Because that would be rude. Besides, he's a nice guy. He deserves to be treated like a guest."
You sighed and tightened your grip on the meat tenderizer. The truth was, you hadn’t spoken to Toji in days; he seemed to be keeping his distance. The thought of being in the same space with him was daunting, especially after everything that had happened between you two.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with your father around, right? You shook off the thought and concentrated on your cooking, but the anxiety swirling in your chest was hard to ignore.
When Toji finally entered the dining room, you were a bundle of nerves. A mix of excitement and dread washed over you as he stepped inside. His mere presence seemed to dominate the room, and you struggled to keep your eyes from lingering on him.
"Hey, thanks for inviting me."
"Of course, Toji. It's the least we could do."
You kept your head down and focused on your food the entire night, ignoring the urge to look at him.
"You okay, pumpkin? You're very quiet tonight."
"I'm fine."
"She's probably just tired." Toji said.
Your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his stare pierce through you, sending your heart into a frenzy. The urge to reach out and slap him was strong, but you knew better than to provoke your father’s suspicion. So, you bit your tongue and focused on your meal instead.
Once dinner was over, your father retreated to his study, Toji having promised to clean up, leaving you two in an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you at a loss for words. You felt an overwhelming desire to shout at him, to accuse him of being a creep and to have used you. To demand he leave, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you remained there, simmering with frustration.
At last, he shattered the stillness.
"So, how are you liking the new semester?"
"Fine."
"Any problems?"
"No."
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"Listen, I know you're mad at me."
"Mad? I'm fucking furious. What the fuck is your deal, Toji? You get me hooked then you go ghost?”
"Hooked?"
"You know what I mean."
He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "It was just a bit of fun. Didn't mean anything by it."
"Bullshit. I'm not stupid. Why are you playing with me?"
He locks his hands under his chin. "I'm not playing with you."
You glared. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. You want me."
He sighed and shook his head.
"You're a kid. It would be inappropriate."
"I'm not a kid."
"Yeah, you are. Look, it's nothing personal. I just don't date girls like you."
"Girls like me?"
"Rich kids with their own personal army."
"I'm not-"
"Save it. I know who your dad is. I'm not interested in getting mixed up in his business, it was a mistake doing those things with you."
You swallowed thickly, his words like a slap.
"Then why the hell are you here?"
"Because I was invited."
"You're such a dick."
You were angry, but you couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing as you. What it would be like to have him pin you down and fuck you. The thought made your cheeks flush.
"You know, I bet if I told your father what we'd been doing, he'd have a very different opinion of you."
"Is that a threat?"
"No. Just a reminder. Don't forget who's in charge here."
"Fuck you."
"I don't fuck little girls."
You could feel your anger rising, and you were tempted to throw something at him. But you knew he was right. He was in control, and there was nothing you could do about it.
"So, what now? Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"
"If that's what you want."
"I don't know what I want."
"Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."
"I hate you."
"Don't be dramatic. You barely know me."
"I know enough. You're a jerk and a bully."
"And you're a spoiled brat who needs to learn some respect."
You scoffed at him, clenching your fists.
"Don't push me, princess."
"Or what? What are you gonna do?"
"Oh, I can think of a few things." He quipped.
His eyes were dark and full of promise, and you could feel yourself growing wet.
"I bet."
"You wanna find out?"
“What I want is to slap that grin off your stupid face."
"Slap me. Do it."
"No."
"Why not? Too scared?"
"No."
"Then do it." He urges.
"Stop it."
"What? You're the one who's always pushing my buttons. Come on, princess. Show me what you got."
You stand and lift your hand, striking him sharply across the face, the crack resonating throughout the room. A sharp intake of breath escaped you, and your eyes widened in shock. His cheek flushed crimson, clearly marked by the outline of your hand. He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.
"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"You're an asshole."
"Yeah, and you're a spoiled bitch who likes to get fucked with my fingers."
You could feel your face flush, and you turned away from him.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Fine. Go fuck yourself." You sigh.
"Nah, I think I'll have you do it."
He chuckled, his voice deep and low.
"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You snapped.
"No. Not with you. Never."
"Really? Not even a little?"
"Not even a little." You rolled your eyes.
"Come on, princess. You can't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. I can practically smell the desire on you."
"Shut up."
"Why? Because I'm right?"
"No, because you're annoying."
"So, you're not interested? Not even a little?"
"Fuck you, bipolar ass."
"Ooh, feisty. I like it."
"I hate you."
"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."
He was the one with the upper hand, and there was nothing you could do about it. He stands up from the table, face inches from yours. “Ya think if fucked you on this table lil ol’ daddy would hear?” You felt your pulse quicken, and a wave of arousal wash over you. "What? No snarky comeback?"
"You're a fucking pig."
"I might be, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."
He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours. "Tell me, princess. Do you like the idea of being fucked on your family's expensive table?" You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, and you could barely contain the moan that threatened to escape.
"Tell me. Is this turning you on? The idea of being used like a cheap whore, your father just down the hall."
"Fuck you." You shakily breathe out. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and fuck your tight little pussy. Make you scream my name while your daddy is sipping his scotch, completely oblivious."
"Enough Toji.”
"What's the matter, princess? Don't want your daddy to know what a dirty little slut you are? How you’re fucking a grimy old man.”
"I'm not a slut."
"Could've fooled me. With the way you're always begging for my cock."
"I am not!"
"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know the truth."
You could feel your face burning, and you were desperate to put some distance between the two of you. But his body was like a brick wall, and you couldn't move.
"Get off of me."
"Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?"
"You’re…disgusting"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I bent you over and fucked you right here, right now. Made you scream so loud your daddy would come running. Wouldn't that be fun?"
You were furious, but the truth was, his words were turning you on. You couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, or the way your nipples were straining against your shirt.
"What's wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?"
"Fuck. You."
"Mm, that's more like it."
His hand snaked up your shirt, his fingers grazing your nipples. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.
"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."
"Stop it."
"Why? You don't like it?"
"No."
"Liar."
He squeezed your left bud, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "You like that, don't you? You like being manhandled by a real man. Not some preppy rich boy."
"Please."
"Please, what? Stop? Or keep going?"
"Keep…going."
"That's what I thought."
His hand dipped lower. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you wore this skirt for him. For easy access, of course. The way it hugged your curves, the way it rode up just enough to tease him, it was all too perfect. He couldn't help but think you knew exactly what you were doing. His hands slid up your thighs, feeling the soft fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath. As he lifted the skirt higher, his breath hitched, and he couldn't wait to ruin you. His fingers brushing against the growing wet spot on your pink laced panties.
"Such a dirty little slut. Look at you, already soaking wet and I've barely touched you."
"Fuck."
"Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want me to fuck you. Right here. Right now. In your daddy's house. Where he could walk in any minute and catch us."
"Please."
"Beg me."
"Please, fuck me."
"Good girl."
He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you mewled in pleasure.
“So loud, no respect."
You gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself as he continued to assault your senses. His fingers were relentless, teasing and stroking, and soon, you were a writhing mess.
”Open your mouth.” he commands, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your mind is foggy, and you find yourself following his directions, opening your mouth slightly. You winch as his fingers dig into your cheeks, a glob of spit trickling from his mouth into yours. You can taste the acidity and bitterness as it slides down your throat. Your mind screams to pull away, but your body ignores it. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, his fingers leaving your face to grip your hair tightly.
The first slap sends your head flying, a dull ache beginning in the right side of your skull. He holds you in place and slaps you again, this time your teeth cut into your lip and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. His eyes narrow, the grip on your hair tightening.
“Gonna fix you.”
"Please. Please."
"What? What do you want, princess?"
"I want… I want you."
"You want me to fuck you? To make you come?"
"Yes. God, yes."
"Say it."
"Please, fuck me."
He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick heat. You sobbed, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body. He smirked, watching your expression as he slowly finger-fucked you.
"God, you're so fucking wet."
"Please. Please, don't stop."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
He added another finger, stretching you further. You grunted out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Toji presses the sloppiest kisses on your neck as he finger fucks you, pad of his thumb still working your sticky clit. You know it’s risky to be doing this, your father could come out at any moment. But, when Toji’s slender fingers prod into your mushy pussy, all rationality leaves your mind. All you can think about is his fingers pumping in and out of you.
Your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel your orgasm building slowly but surely. Your toes curl, and your body begins to shake. You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying desperately to ground yourself. He continues his assault on your pussy, his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Ah she’s gushin’ all over me.” He laughs, watching your body spasm.
“Toji…please."
"Please what, princess?"
"I need...I need..."
"What? Tell me."
"I need to come."
"Not yet."
"Please. Please, I'm begging you."
"Oh, I love it when you beg. But not yet."
He withdraws his fingers, and you whimper at the loss. He smirks and sucks his digits, licking the juices from them. You can't help but stare at him, transfixed by his movements.
"God, you taste good. I could eat this pussy all day."
"Please."
"Patience, princess."
He turns you around and bends you over the table, your ass in the air. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, and you know he wants this as much as you do. He pulls down up your skirt and frees his cock. It's big and thick, and you can't help but lick your lips. He strokes himself a few times, coating his cock with your juices as he slaps it on your pussy.
He rubs the head of his cock against your wet slit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You can't believe how turned on you are, how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."
He has to clamp a hand over your mouth when he begins sheltering his beefy length into your cunt. Your scream is muffled by his hand, and he slowly pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but clench around him. He grunts, his grip on your hips tightening with his free hand.
"God, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight."
You can't help but push back against him, wanting him deeper. despite the searing pain between your legs. He continues his assault on your pussy, thrusting in and out of you. Your moans are muffled by his hand, eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so good, “Shittt—ughm, can’t have you getting us caught.”
Toji whispers into your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
He removes his hand from your mouth and wraps it around your throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"God, you're so fucking hot."
You can't form words, the pleasure taking over.
He squeezes so hard you think you might pass out, but then his hand is gone, and he's pounding into you at a frenzied pace. "Fucking hell." He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.
You try to stifle your moans, but it's no use. He's relentless, driving into you again and again, his cock hitting all the right spots. You feel like heaven around him, walls constricting around his aching cock. He can't believe how lucky he is to have a little cockslut like you.
He fucks into you with reckless abandon, the table scraping against the floor. The sound of skin slapping now deafening, and the smell of sex permeates the air.
He reaches around and rubs your clit, tears streaming down your face.
"That's right, princess. Take it."
Your entire body is shaking, the pressure building until it's unbearable. He removes his hand from your throat and slaps your ass, the sharp pain pushing you closer towards the edge. You cry out. “ Q-Quie—“ he’s cutting you off as he slams his cock deep into you, the force of his thrust causing the table to squeak and shudder. “Shut up. Talk t-to much.” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth.
The taste of yourself on his fingers sends you spiraling into oblivion. Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans.
"Oh fuck."
He pounds into you, his own release imminent.
"Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum."
He grips your hips tightly now with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Toji. Toji. Oh, fuck. Fuck." You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm tears through you.
He groans and buries his cock deep inside of you, then he’s retracting. Thick white cream built at the base of his shaft, coating his cock in slickness. His eyes roll back at the sight of the pearlescent liquid smeared along his length. A thick layer coats his hand as he slides his fist along his member, his fingers moving easily from the wetness.
His balls draw up as his pleasure increases, his ass clenching with his need for release. Once again, you’ve got him cumming in under ten minutes. He hates it, but damn you feel so good.
"Fuckin’ killin me, can’t last with you.” He groans as he shoots his load on your ass.
You lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.
"Fuck. You're perfect, princess."
You can't help but moan as he spreads your pussy from behind, his tongue lapping up the mixture of your juices.
"Tastes so good. I can't get enough."
You can't speak, the sensation too much for your spent body.
He continues his assault on your pussy until you're a whimpering mess, begging him to stop. He finally relents, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.
"I think we made quite the mess, princess."
He smirks, the sight of you bent over the table, his cum dripping down your thighs a beautiful sight to behold.
“You alright sweetheart?” You hear your father call, confused by the commotion.
“I’m fine! Just stuffed.”
Toji snickers, placing a kiss on your cheek whilst pulling your skirt down. You can't help but smile, knowing that this isn't the last time you'll have him inside of you. You'll make sure of it.
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kitten4sannie · 3 days ago
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ᴄᴀꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜᴄʜ
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ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ
pairing: frat boy! san x fem! reader feat. yungi
genre: frat au, smut
summary: san and his boys are more than grateful when you help them with their newest ‘feature film.’
w.c: 3k
warnings: they’re making porn okay, nasty mean dom! san, subby aloof! reader, san knowingly takes advantage of reader’s romantic feelings for him…. (bro’s the king of douchebags), manipulation/corruption, brief implied mxm bc i love fruity frat boys <3, praise/false praise, name calling/degradation, major voyeurism/exhibitionism kink, mind break ig?, double penetration in one hole, oral (giving), brief hair pulling, throat-fucking, tit fucking, facial, rough sex, bulge kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, gang bang !!, it’s all unprotected btw, multiple orgasms, creampies <33
a/n: this is so fucking insane you guys….like idk why frat aus have me in such a chokehold but here we are🧍🏻‍♀️also this is totally random (and essential) info but san’s signature frat party look would be a ‘don’t hate me it turns me on’ shirt and a backwards red cap hwjhw anyways happy reading~ and please lemme know if you liked it uwu
p.s: we’re at 6.5k followers HELLO???? that’s insane 🫣 thank you so very much!!!
song rec: i like the way you kiss me - artemas (✨ male manipulation: the song ✨)
ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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“Smile for the camera, pretty girl,” San, the frat boy you’ve been in love with for ages, encouraged you from behind the lens of the camcorder he was holding, his smooth baritone voice like saccharine, artificial, yet sweet enough to keep you coming back for another taste. It was when you offered him a small, shy smile through the camera lense, despite the shamelessness of your current position, that he knew he had struck gold. 
San was filming one of the first of many future encounters you would be having on the expansive black leather couch inside their crowded frat den. You were stuffed to the absolute brim by two of his closest colleagues, Yunho and Mingi, who always refused to participate unless they were working together as a duo. 
“Stop looking at me like that, dude,” Mingi huffed up at Yunho from below the both of you, his shoulders and back routinely getting stuck to the couch with sweat. 
“Like what?” Yunho scoffed back, leaning further down onto your body to get closer to Mingi, essentially folding you in half, his hands closing around your ankles.
“Like you wanna kiss me. You’re gonna make me soft.” Mingi grimaced, pushing Yunho’s hands out of the way to hold onto your ankles instead, driving himself into you like a well oiled machine. He was throbbing nonstop, but there was absolutely no proof that it was because of his friend’s heavy cock rubbing along his inside the cunt they were sharing. 
You could feel Yunho’s breath hit your shoulder when he laughed. “Skill issue,” Yunho simply replied, delighted when Mingi bucked up into you even harder, encouraging him to do the same. 
Clearly, there was something vaguely homoerotic going on there, but it wasn’t San’s business, and he definitely had better things to focus on — you, his newest pupil. He watched you with dollar signs in his bright brown eyes and the taste of cheap vodka on his tongue, unable to keep himself from licking repeatedly at his chapped lips, especially now that the innocent classmate he had recently taken a liking to had no problem taking two cocks at once inside her puffy, used cunt, while he, his bros, and his trusty camcorder had a front row seat to her mutually beneficial destruction.  
“Look at you, so flexible…Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Y/N?” San teased, lowering the camera down until his sharp feline eyes were visible.
“N-no, I swear!” you squeaked out, the growing embarrassment you felt only spurring all of this newfound pleasure you were drunk on. “Just wanna, nnngh–be good for you…”
“Oh, that’s right. Silly me. You’re being a very good girl right now, baby, Don’t worry.” San couldn’t help but smile at the way you seemed to melt in front of him. It was just too easy. He glanced down at the camera, zooming in and capturing the moment his friends filled you up with their hot loads, the bliss evident on your fucked-out face. “That’s it, baby. Are you happy you stuck around here with us instead of going back to your dorm to do homework? Taking cock is much more fun, isn’t it, beautiful?” 
“So much more fun,” you sighed out, your pupils blown out just from looking at his devastatingly handsome face. It was then that you pouted. You were only here because you were in love with San, and yet, it wasn’t even his dick inside you. It wasn’t fair. “But, I’d have even more fun with you, Sannie~” 
“Is that so…?” San offered a brief shit-eating smirk to one of his boys nearby, reaching down to grab at himself through his sweatpants, like he was weighing it. “It’s right here, baby. Why don’t you show us what that pretty mouth can do?” 
Both Mingi and Yunho slowed down their thrusts, but didn’t completely pull out, choosing to leisurely fuck their cum back into you, as they fought to catch their breath.
“What a loser, cumming first like that,” Mingi insulted Yunho, licking at the saliva left on his lips. 
“Your mom doesn’t have a problem with it,” Yunho chided back, reaching down past your body to smack his hand into the side of Mingi’s ass. 
“Goddamn it, you guys, I’m gonna have to edit that gay shit out.” San brought a hand up to scratch at his head in frustration. “You know what, both of you, get out of my shot and sword fight somewhere else. I’m not doing this right now,” San grumbled, shooing the two panting men away from the couch they had just made a mess on. 
“Bro acts like we don’t know about his late night tutoring sessions with Wooyoung,” Yunho whispered to Mingi, trying to stifle his laughter. 
Mingi almost choked on his breath. “Don’t forget, Yeosang. San doesn’t even take physics anymore, either. Yet, he still visits that nerd every Friday like clockwork.” 
“Dude, aren’t they roommates?” Yunho cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, still using a hushed tone, “Do you think they run a train on–”
“Hey! Don’t make me haze the two of you again just for fun…” San warned from the center of the room, glaring daggers at the two men who went quiet almost immediately. His annoyance abruptly melted away once you gingerly reached up to pull his sweatpants down until the frat emblem that was stitched into the thigh pocket was no longer visible. It was when San smacked his heavy length down onto your face, that you let out a pornstar worthy moan. Cha-ching. “Oh, you like that? Hm? Want my cock?”   
“Mm-hmm…” San’s cock slapped down onto your face a second time. You quickly squeezed your thighs together to keep yourself from cumming right then and there, biting back a moan all the while. You wondered if it was obvious how truly desperate you were for the man standing above. Fuck it. You were already here, so you might as well get what you came for. “Please, give it to me, Sannie, f-fuck my mouth.” 
San could not believe his luck. His loyal fanbase would absolutely have a field day with this as soon as he uploaded it. He could already see the cash flowing in, and it made him rock hard. He sighed happily to himself, running his fingers through your hair, carefully tucking a few strands behind your ear. “It’s really true what they say…the shy ones are always the most slutty.”  
*“I’m not a slut, I just–” you cut yourself off, not wanting to confess to San right before you were about to suck him off in front of his fraternity and whichever degenerate that would be watching it back later on. You pouted again, looking up at him with wide, sparkly eyes. “I want to be useful to you, like a doll~”  
“Did you hear that, everyone? Y/N here is a real life doll. Let’s treat her as such,” San reminded his friends and housemates who couldn’t help but hover around the couch, a few of them sharing knowing smiles with one another. 
Your heart began to thump away inside your chest, unable to believe that your long-time crush was giving you so much of his attention and affection. It was like a dream come true. As soon as your lips parted to take in a shaky breath, San tightened his grip around your hair, yanking you forward and stuffing your mouth full of cock. “Mmnnf…!” 
Clutching the camera with one hand and the makeshift ponytail he created near the back of your head, San began thrusting sloppily into your open mouth, groaning at the slick sensation of your throat routinely closing around his moving cockhead. “Come on, doll, let me in, yeah? So Sannie can fuck your throat raw.” 
San wasn’t lying. With each wet, rough thrust, he got closer and closer to doing what he promised you. “Mmmn…nnn…” You couldn’t tell if the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes were the result of San’s dizzying performance or the burning arousal you felt stirring inside your core simply from being watched by a room full of men you didn’t know. 
“Aww, crying already, princess? I’ll give you something to really cry about when I’m breeding that pretty cunt of yours,” San chuckled darkly, his strong hips snapping relentlessly, his pace only beginning to falter once he saw escaping drool mixed with his pre-cum dripping down past your chin and down in between your tits. You were becoming a mess. It was going to make the frat leader bust any second. The borderline obsessive look you had inside your teary eyes didn’t help either. “Fuck, oh god– Somebody take the goddamn camera!” 
The youngest of the group fumbled to grab the camera, using his jacket sleeve to rub the fingerprints off of the lens, before lifting it up, capturing the exact moment San pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and slid his cock along in between your glistening tits. 
San turned to face the camera for a second, dimples flashing, squishing your tits in between his thick fingers as he fucked them. “See, you guys? This is how you use a doll to her maximum potential,” he explained as though he were a professor on campus. “Just look at her face. She loves it.” 
Instead of trying to focus on the camera, you gazed directly up at him, your cheeks warm to the touch, still love-struck, even when San’s load landed all over your face. You simply licked away what had landed on your lips, sucking the rest off the frat leader’s fingers once he so lovingly fed it to you. 
San nodded his head in approval, patting yours in an effort to reward you for your hard work. “That’s a good girl…” He tilted his head to the side. “Let’s see what else our pretty doll can do. Sound good?” 
“Really good,” you chimed, licking at your swollen lips, savoring San’s essence. 
Wedding bells were ringing in the distance. You would do anything for San, and that meant letting him treat you like a sex doll and fuck you in any position he saw fit for the next hour. By the time your knees gave out from cumming for the nth time, San had you in a full nelson in the middle of the couch, positioned behind you with his arms locked around your upper half, making sure your used, feverish body was on complete display. 
“Sannie…gonna…cum…again,” you breathed out in between a few heavy moans, your head feeling so heavy that you just let it hang for a second. 
San repositioned himself so that he could clutch your chin, tilting it upwards. His free hand snaked around your waist, laying his palm flat on your tummy, suddenly driving his cock up into you so hard, you couldn’t even speak if you wanted to. “Hey, be a good slut and let them see what you look like when you’re cumming your brains out.” 
You simply looked up at the blurry camera past your teary lashes, letting out a choked gasp once you barreled over the edge of ecstasy. You didn’t have a chance to recover from the overwhelming pleasure, especially not when San pressed his hand down firmly onto the bulge his cock was routinely making inside your stomach. “P-please..! Sannie..!” 
You want another load? Fuck, baby.” Groaning, San took a second to lick one of the tears that was rolling along your cheek before it dropped, his hips slamming against yours so quick, you were already developing bruises, ones that would accompany the bright red love bites scattered across your slick skin. He pressed his lips directly to your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “You know, seeing you in class and on campus, I never would’ve pegged you as a cumslut, but everyone enjoys a good surprise every now and then…don’t they?”
“Yes–yes, yes, yes,” you chanted back, too cockdrunk to even fully process what San was saying, just focused on how full you felt, and how you needed more. 
“Good, because I got a surprise for you too.” Grunting loudly, San lowered his hips and slammed them up into you one last time, holding your trembling body still, painting your pulsing walls white. “Now, say ‘thank you, Sannie.’”
“Thank you, Sannie.” You leaned your head back to nuzzle the side of his cheek, placing your hands over his, feeling him rubbing your lower stomach in small circles, his cock still fully sheathed inside you. 
“Anytime, sugar.” San gave your hair a few strokes as a reward, before pulling out and climbing off of the couch. He took the camera back from the new guy and snapped his fingers at a few of the bricked up housemates standing nearby, pointing in your direction. “Now, show me what you’re really made of.” San gave you a charming, dimpled smile. “Make me proud, okay?” 
As a few half naked strangers surrounded you on all sides of the couch, some of them reaching out to grope your warm body, you returned San’s smile, your heart skipping a beat or two. “I’ll give it my best just for you~” 
Throughout the night, San, alongside his fraternity, conditioned you with care, meticulously molded you into a star, one they eagerly passed around, easily making your tape one of the longest in their exclusive film collection. It wasn’t difficult, by any means. You were, of course, the perfect specimen: passive, pliant, and poisoned by the oxytocin that turned your brain into mush.
Even when you were being used by more men than you could count, you couldn’t keep your attention off of Sannie, his handsome face only growing blurry when someone would make you gag on their cock, as you didn’t have the most experience with men of their size. You wanted San to yourself again, desperately wishing you could reach out for him instead of another stranger’s twitching erection — but you endured it all, falling further into the rabbit hole of pleasure for the sake of your whirlwind infatuation. 
Everyone in the frat house deeply appreciated your dedication to their amateur film, especially San, who, by the end of it, secured the perfect spot to capture the finality of your desecration. Two of his older friends had just finished inside you, their spent cocks slipping out of your used hole and revealing the beautiful mess they left.
Crouched down in front of the couch, San reached out past the camcorder to spread your puffy lips apart, each and every load you took over the past hour now slowly spilling out onto his veined hand. “Look at this pretty cunt, you guys…so full of cum, it won’t stop coming out…” He panned up to your face with the camera, giving you a wicked smile from behind it. “You’ll be pregnant in no time, won’t you, doll? With whose baby, I wonder…”
After all that, you somehow managed to act shy, covering your flushed face, giving San heart eyes past your trembling fingers. “Hopefully yours…” 
“Oh, princess.” San gently rubbed his fingers over your reddened cunt and clit, cum still dribbling out of you all the while. “I don’t think you realize how cute you’re being right now~ Almost like you didn’t just slut yourself out for everyone to see, huh? Mm, do you feel cute, Y/N?” San asked in a babying tone, as he slowly stood up and towered over you. 
“You make me feel cute…” You nuzzled your cheek into the palm of San’s warm hand once he offered it to you, hoping you secured a spot inside his heart after all the hard work you put in. “I would keep going for you if I could still feel my legs.” 
“Aww, there’s always next time, isn’t there?” he suggested slyly, rubbing away some leftover cum from your cheek before caressing the side of your face. “Do you have anything to say to our loyal fanbase, baby?” 
“I love cock, especially yours, Sannie,” you slurred lovingly up at San, through the camera lens, licking your lips, mouth watering at the thought of being invited again to film another movie. “So give me a call, okay?” 
“Oh, I will, believe me.” A smug laugh erupted from San’s puffed-out chest, as he aimed the camera at his pretty boy face for a second to announce, “We’ve officially turned another good girl into a filthy cumslut. If you’d like to watch the transformation happen in real time, feel free to stop by our frat. For extra, we’ll let you have a go.” And with that, he shut the camcorder off and pushed it into the youngest member’s chest, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Fuck it, we might even give you a turn.” 
The freshman choked on his spit. “R-really?” 
“I’m feeling nice today.” San sighed, running his fingers through his gelled up hair to fix it. When the young man just stood there drooling, the frat leader grimaced. “Upload this to all our sites ASAP, and don’t forget about our twitter page this time,” he demanded, rolling his eyes when he saw the cum stains the embarrassed student left behind on his pants. “And, for fuck’s sake, will you take care of that?” 
As another member brought a can of beer over to San, the frat leader took it and cracked it open. “Can you believe that guy? He’s been here for, what, a month now? And he’s still creaming his pants like a virgin? Unbelievable.”
As you gingerly put your clothes back on, you watched San move around the frat to dab up his friends and clink their beer cans together in celebration of another successful shoot. You couldn’t help but let out a long, lovesick sigh. He would be yours one day. Until then, you would take what you could get, and of course, become a star. 
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fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @crazyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity
© kitten4sannie, 2024.
877 notes · View notes
jepzer0 · 2 days ago
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The best quotes from mumbos new episode:
- it is time to craft some hermits
- we've got the world's smallest industrial egg farm
- i don't know what's wrong with me, I'm just really enjoying mass pollution at the moment
- if season 8 was peace, love and plants than season 10 is pollute, poison and plants, industrial power plants of course
- Jill is there to buy everything, if it even looks remotely curious she'll want to buy it, even if it's totally falling apart. Bill is there to make sure it doesn't totally fall apart
- I hope this doesn't break the illusion too much but uh, Ron has no body
- time to kill myself many more times. Wearing many more heads
- now it's time to die a lot. And do you know what the most effective way of dying a lot is. Messaging Geminitay
- I'm not gonna complain about e-girl mumbo
- you're so much more naked
- look gem I was only going for the heads, I didn't know what the bodies were doing, I was only looking at the heads
- you wouldn't kill a child dressed as a dinasaur would you gem - mumbo
I would - gem
- now this one's just called puffa jacket
- you look good in pink
- I was captivated by the handsomeness but no you're right, I don't have a mouth
- you know that did more psychological damage to me than any hit with your sword
- if you kill this guy all of Argentina is gonna come for you
- gangnam style dude
- I can't kill punk babe
- your knees are nude and I hate that sentence
- I'm like a goth icon
- knees are out, strong brows, shoulders are out, you're in danger gem
- have you ever tried to look at your own knees. You don't have them. Crazy
All in all, it was a hilarious episode and I love mumbo
609 notes · View notes
catchastarorten · 3 days ago
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—Two sides of a coin.
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Pairing: Young-il / Hwang In-ho x fem!reader
Summary: when he went into the games and blended in as a player, he didn’t expect himself to start caring for you so much. However, during Mingle, he realized you might not be so different from him…
Warnings: In-ho & Young-il are interchangeable—I used both in here, violence, death, him being concerned for you a lot, fast-paced, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!
Word count: ~ 2.0k
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You had caught his attention early on, long before you had even spoken to him. You weren’t like the others—no frantic alliances, no desperate pleas. You moved through the games like a shadow, calculating but not ruthless, detached but not cold. You held people at a distance, but you weren’t cruel about it. That intrigued him.
He watched how the others in his group gravitated toward you, despite knowing next to nothing about you. You let them in just enough to function as a team, but no further. And yet, there were moments when you let something slip—when your guard lowered just slightly, a half-smile at Jung-bae and Dae-ho, a quick hand extended to steady Jun-hee when she winced in pain, her hands covering her stomach.
It made In-ho wonder. Who were you, really? What had brought you here?
More than that—why did he care?
He wasn’t supposed to. He was here with a purpose. Not to get attached. And yet, every time a new game started and ended, his first instinct was to check on you. To make sure you were still there. Still breathing. Still alive.
Like now.
The platform beneath him whirred as Mingle began again, spinning slow but fast enough to disorient, especially in a state of panic, though he barely felt it. The more players lost, the more chaotic it became. Fear made people desperate, and desperate people were unpredictable.
His eyes stayed on you.
You stood with your usual quiet focus, weight balanced perfectly, already anticipating the moment the platform would stop.
The moment the platform jerked to a halt, the voice crackled overhead:
“Five.”
Panic erupted around him instantly.
People lunged, grabbing at whoever was closest, shoving and clawing to form groups. He ignored them all, moving toward you. His hand reached out, fingers brushing your wrist—
And then someone crashed into him.
The impact sent him stumbling just enough to lose sight of you.
His heart pounded against his ribs.
No.
Shoving past bodies, he searched for you, ignoring the hands trying to pull him into groups, or Dae-ho’s constant call for him. The countdown was already ticking down, but his only thought was find her, find her, find her.
Then he saw you.
You had spotted the others—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Jun-hee, and Dae-ho. They were waving at you, shouting from the front of one of the rooms they found empty.
Four.
They needed one more.
You didn’t make a move right away, your head turning around as if you were looking for something—or someone. Then, your eyes locked with In-ho, the lingering look told him to go with the group, and he felt his breath hitch.
Before In-ho could try to communicate that you needed to be the one who’s safe—you ran.
Not towards the room, but into the waves of people scrambling to find others to get into a room.
He cursed under his breath and ran toward the other four, who all shouted for him.
The doors slammed shut. His breathing quickened by the thought of you being eliminated. What if you didn’t find another group? What if you didn’t find a room?
A moment later, the final buzzer sounded, and the doors locked.
The ones who had failed to form groups pounded against the locked doors, their screams cut short by the inevitable gunshots. The guards moved in, silent and efficient, dragging the bodies away.
It should have been routine. In-ho had seen this before. He had orchestrated it before.
But he barely saw any of it.
Because all he could think was—was she inside?
Had you made it?
When the clean-up was over, the doors unlocked, allowing the players to come out of the rooms. In-ho’s first thought was to look for you in the crowds of players.
You stepped out from another room. Alive.
He felt the air rush from his lungs.
For a second, he didn’t move. Just stood there, taking in the sight of you, as if his mind needed proof. You walked out with that same composed stride, only the slight rise and fall of your chest betraying the fact that you had almost died.
And then—then you smirked.
That soft, knowing smirk. Like you were telling him, I’m fine. See? You didn’t need to worry.
Something inside him snapped.
Before he could stop himself, his feet carried him forward, fast, almost desperate. He barely registered the others, barely cared if they noticed.
He just needed—
He stopped inches away from you.
His breath was steady, but his hands twitching at his sides. He had almost lost you. The realization crashed into him harder than it should have. It unsettled him, made his pulse hammer in a way he didn’t like. He had known fear before, but never like this.
And you—damn you, you just stood there, watching him with those unreadable eyes. You had no idea. No idea how close he was to pulling you into his arms just to make sure you were real. To confirm you were still here. He forced himself to breathe, to shove the instinct down.
You smirked again, tilting your head slightly. “Missed me?”
“You worried me.” Young-il said simply, trying to calm himself, giving you a smile, though it felt a bit forced.
“I saved you too.”
The last round.
The tension was suffocating.
126 players left. Only 50 rooms. It meant 26 people were guaranteed to die if the remaining players were required to form pairs.
You felt it in the way the bodies around you tensed, the way some players shifted closer together, while others eyed their competition like prey.
The platform had barely stopped spinning when the announcement came.
“Two.”
Young-il didn’t hesitate. He didn’t stop to think, didn’t give himself a moment to assess. His body moved purely on instinct. His hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist in a firm grip, and before you could react, he pulled you forward.
“Come on!"
There was no time to wait. No time to look for anyone else. He needed you by his side, needed to ensure that you wouldn’t be swallowed by the chaos erupting all around.
And it was chaos.
Players lunged for one another, hands grabbing, shoving, desperate to form pairs before the rooms filled. The knowledge that not everyone would make it—that some would be left behind to die—drove them to madness. Some scrambled without thought, others moved with purpose, pulling people down, throwing punches, trampling those too slow to keep up.
The room was in sight.
Not far. Just a few more feet.
Then something slammed into him.
A body, heavy and frantic, slammed into his side with brute force, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him crashing to the ground. The grip on your wrist slipped away as his back hit the hard platform floor.
The player who tackled him was bigger—strong, but wild with panic. His hands clawed at Young-il’s teal tracksuit, trying to shove him back down. A split second’s hesitation in a game like this could mean death. He knew that.
But before he could fully react—before he could twist the man off him and take back control, you were already moving. No hesitation. You grabbed the man’s collar, your grip brutal and sure, and yanked him off with shocking strength. Young-il barely had time to register the movement before—
Crack.
A sickening sound, one that echoed in the madness.
Your foot came down hard, precise, against the man’s leg. The force of it snapped the bone like it was nothing more than a twig beneath your heel.
The man screamed—a raw, gut-wrenching sound—but it was already over. He collapsed, writhing, his face twisted in agony. But you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at Young-il.
And for the first time in a very, very long time, In-ho was stunned. Not by the violence. He had seen worse. Done worse. 
But by you.
The sheer efficiency of it. The lack of hesitation, the brutal finality in the way you moved. You didn’t even look at the man after you broke him. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t tremble, didn’t stop to think about what you had just done. There was no regret in your eyes. No guilt. Just cold, calculated action.
For a single breath, he just stared at you, trying to make sense of what he had just seen, of who he was looking at.
Then your fingers curled around his arm, yanking him to his feet with a sharp, urgent tug.
“Move!”
That single word shattered whatever had frozen him.
He shoved the thoughts aside and ran with you, the chaos of the game roaring in his ears. He could process it later. Right now, all that mattered was survival.
The room was just ahead, one of the few left.
One last sprint.
Young-il pulled you forward, feet pounding against the floor. Almost there. 
You both got inside.
The door slammed shut behind you.
For a moment, the world outside faded, the noise of screams muffled by the walls enclosing you both. The sheer brutality of the game had been left outside the door. Inside was silence, heavy and suffocating.
But then—a presence... A third person in the small room with you and Young-il.
A man stood against the far wall, panting, sweat forming on his forehead.
Young-il’s stomach coiled.
You weren’t safe yet.
“There’s only room for two,” he said, voice calm, controlled.
The man’s breathing hitched. His wild, panicked eyes darted between you and Young-il, looking for a way out, a way through.
“I—I was here first,” the man stammered. His voice wavered.
Young-il stepped forward, his presence looming, his voice quiet but sharp.
“Get out.”
The man flinched but held his ground. Desperation flickered in his expression, the refusal to accept his fate. “No way,” the other player tried to sound firm, his eyes flickered between the two of you again, desperate. “Please.”
Young-il exhaled sharply. There was no point in wasting words.
In a single, fluid motion, his arm shot out, wrapping around the man’s throat. The struggle was brief. Short-lived. The other player clawed at Young-il's arm, his legs kicking as they slowly slid down against the wall.
A sharp, sickening crack filled the air, final and absolute.
The body went limp against him. Dead weight.
Young-il let go of the body.
His breathing was quickened, but his eyes were steady. His heartbeat calm. He had done this before. Many times. It didn’t shake him. Didn’t bother him.
He looked up at you, and once again, you surprised him.
Because you weren’t shocked. You weren’t even remotely fazed. You stood by the door, blocking it, your eyes locking with his as if you had expected this outcome from the moment you entered and saw the other player. You hadn’t gasped, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t looked at him like he just committed some great treason.
You had simply accepted it as fast as it came.
And that—that sent something twisting inside him in a way he didn’t fully understand.
He had seen it in the way you moved, in the way you made decisions without hesitation. He had seen it in the way you had broken that man’s leg without a second thought, in the way you had looked at him after—assessing, calculating, but never afraid.
And now, in the quiet aftermath of the kill, you weren’t recoiling from him either.
No.
You were simply watching.
Like you had known all along exactly what he was capable of. And you didn’t care.
That sent a strange, sharp feeling through him. A curiosity. An understanding.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The doors locked with a click as the timer ran out, the sound of gunshots filled the air, the distant screams beyond the door fading as the game ended.
Finally, he exhaled, his fingers twitching at his side.
“We’re alive,” he said, voice steady. You just gave him a nod, turning your back to him as you looked to the chaos outside through the small space on the door.
Young-il rested against the wall, his mind processing all that had happened.
Then, his lips curled, a soft smirk that you couldn’t see.
582 notes · View notes
dollyyun · 23 hours ago
Text
BACK TO YOU ✧ L.HS
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SYNOPSIS ✧ interesting things happen ever since the guys came back from the tour that leads to you finding out a possessive side to your boyfriend, but it doesn’t bother you the way his relentless teasing does, practically edging you. yet, you know that it is only a matter of time until he caves in to his temptation, but will you be able to take everything what he promised you during your video call two nights ago?
PAIRING ✧ idol bf!heeseung x fem reader
WARNINGS ✧ dynamic between characters (with enha members), fluffs, soft and sappy moments, soft love, loverboy heeseung, reader is needy, (are we even surprised), reader whines and whimpers a lot (same), jealous-possessive!heeseung, softdom!hee, meandom!hee, sub!reader, unprotected sex(no!), rough sex, pure filth at some point (i hope), eventual love making, dirty talks, praise kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, spittings, hair pulling, making out, lots of kissing, dry humping, fingering, choking, pussy and tit slapping, oral (f&m rec.), cum eating, clit stimulations, nipple play, bondage (uses of restraint), creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, aftercare, heeseung is so fucking in love
WORD COUNT ✧ 24.9K (my bad)
A/N ✧ no actual serious plot but lots of yapping and badly written smut, idc either fw it like i do or don’t. also i fear idol bf!hee agenda is becoming a serious business for me….anyway may or may not have pt 3 with bf! heeseung and redacted.
video call (part 1)
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Your knuckles are taut with tension as you grip the paper bag tighter, waiting anxiously for the elevator to reach the correct level of their dorm. Your heart palpitates as soon as the elevator chimes open, leaving you no choice but to advance while your eyes are fixated on the familiar matte black door, but your steps remain tentative, as if you are nervous of meeting them for the very first time.
This is stupid, you think as you mentally berate yourself for this abrupt reluctance of yours. It isn’t that you didn’t wish to meet them when you were the one who zealously accepted your boyfriend’s offer earlier to have dinner with him and the guys, but you feel this odd sense of jitters all over your nerves, probably because it has been quite some time since you were in the presence of your boyfriend’s teammates. You admit that sometimes you feel intimidated by some of them, but the butterflies in your tummy are unmistakable at the thought of your very attractive boyfriend to the point where you feel the urge to throw up. 
“Woah, down girl.” You mutter to yourself, or rather, to your excited pussy that is fluttering just by the thought of him as you look down, biting back a groan at the sensation of your clit throbbing faintly.
You huff lightly, finally stopping in front of the door, but instead of pressing on the doorbell, you decide to do another check on your appearance, hoping that you look decent enough since you were in a hurry when you were making your way back home from work, adorned in a cute long-sleeved ruched lace top that complements the beige jacket hanging on your frame and a pair of flare denim jeans that accentuate your upper curves.
As it turns out, the guys finally touched down earlier today in the morning instead of nighttime, according to your boyfriend, who immediately called you to check in with you, like he always does whenever he comes back from a tour or any event. You couldn’t lie about the tiny disappointment you felt when he told you that he would be returning to his shared dorm with Jay, Sunghoon, and Riki. As for the other guys, they’re sharing another dorm, which is located below the other members’, and it is the one you are currently at.
The living arrangement with Heeseung isn’t that complicated — as your relationship progressed over the years, he began living with you at your apartment often, but during comeback season, he would stay at his shared dorm with the guys since it would be more convenient. You grew accustomed to his absence, of course, since you understood that it was part of his job and that it’s the reality of dating an idol, but each absence eventually formed a hole in your heart.
You sigh softly. shaking your head lightly at the sudden melancholia. You decide to press on to the doorbell, only to realise that the door is ajar, and so you slowly push open the door, a wave of familiarity hitting you as you enter the shared apartment of Jake, Sunoo, and Jungwon, since dinner will be held at their place instead. You bend down to remove your shoes.
Just as you take steps forward, your eyes are latched onto a passing tall figure who instantly stops in his tracks, his once-stoic face beaming with recognition and delight, which brings a smile to your lips. You can barely utter a greeting to him when he takes one long stride and engulfs you into a warm, friendly hug with his long limbs.
“You’re here!” Riki exclaims, still locking you in a bear-crushing hug that has you wheezing lightly, but nevertheless you reciprocate with equal eagerness, missing the younger one whom you’ve always seen and treating him like your brother. It takes a tap on his back from you to be conscious of his strength, causing him to release you. “Oops, sorry. I forget how tiny and fragile you actually are.”
You feign taking offence at his remark with a disbelieving gasp, your eyes shooting glares at his cheeky yet smirking countenance playfully. “I most certainly am not tiny. You’re just too tall!” You retort, huffing lightly when he sticks his tongue out at you in return. “Anyway, I bought you guys some desserts, if that’s alright.” You inform as you show the brown paper bag in your grasp.
Earlier, you decided to make a quick detour at the bakery since you didn’t want to come empty-handed despite Heeseung telling you that they would be ordering in. Plus, you know that the guys are huge foodies. 
Riki’s eyes light up like a kid receiving presents on a Christmas morning. “It’s more than alright. Thank you, shorty.” He pats your head as he grabs the paper bag from you before dodging your attack quickly just when you are about to smack him.
But your attention is soon drawn to another familiar face that greets you with a dimpled smile as he ambles towards you. “You’re right on time. The food arrived minutes ago before you came.” Jungwon tells you before he welcomes you with a hug, squeezing you lightly.
“We missed you!” Sunoo exclaims behind you before joining in the hug, eliciting a groan from you at the impact of being sandwiched between them. But you reciprocate the hug from them anyway, having grown accustomed to their clinginess to you.
“I missed you guys too. Now let me breathe.” You say breathlessly, earning mutters of ‘sorry’ from them before they release you. You look at them with a fond smile, examining the lines of exhaustion on their faces despite their smiles. “How was the tour?”
“It was fun, but we’re so glad to be back home.” Sunoo informs you, watching you as you busily remove your jacket, to which he offers to hang it at the side rack, and you give him a smile of gratitude in return.
“Hyung is in the living room.” Jungwon informs you just as you follow them to the route of their kitchen, but his words never register in your head as your attention is now directed to the three guys who you share the same age with, prompting you to halt your steps.
The amiable atmosphere is replaced by something foreign this time, your senses being on high alert for some reason, as though your instinct is able to detect potential dangers.
Jay is leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, a lazy smirk etched on his countenance. Sunghoon is next to him, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other is occupied with his phone as he stops scrolling midway, his cold demeanour unreadable. Jake is leaning against the kitchen island with a wolfish grin on his lips. Their eyes fixated on you with an enigmatic but unmistakable intent.
You offer them a smile, ignoring the sudden awkward tension that feels palpable enough for you to be cautious of your next move. Despite knowing them for three years, you still find it hard to get along with them. Not saying that there is any bad blood between you and them or that you have never gotten along with them at all. It’s just that there is a lack of a close bond compared to the bond you have with the maknae line.
However, this time, you notice how their eyes seem to be examining you with indecipherable emotions, but at the same time, looking as if they know something you don’t, and you have no idea exactly what, or maybe you are just reading into it deeply. Still, you can’t shake off the feeling as though they caught you committing a blasphemous act.
A movement of another figure, the one you had keenly anticipated, captures your attention. Your eyes easily meet his dark ones that slowly drink you in, eliciting a reaction from your pussy that flutters and your clit throbs on instinct, but you hold back from pressing your thighs together to suppress the arousal. You decide to distract yourself to quickly scan his appearance, adorned in a black leather jacket that covers his white top, and when your eyes linger on his belt, you imagine yourself pulling him to you by the belt before kissing him hard on the lips, and his hair, God, he looks so good in a mullet.
When you return to meet his gaze again, you nearly melt into a puddle just by the intensity of his dark eyes alone, a soft smirk unfurling on his pink, kissable lips as he notices the familiar hunger glinting in your dreamy eyes. Good, because he feels the same way too — the primitive need to devour you as you look deliciously gorgeous, most especially the predatory urge to claim you in front of three specific individuals who are still eyeing you like a bunch of ravenous wolves studying their innocent, bunny prey.
“Hey, baby.” Heeseung greets you with a familiar affection that makes you feel giddy on the inside, but he gives you no opportunity to return his greeting when he pulls you by the arm and engulfs you in a hug — a very much-needed hug that you eagerly reciprocate, your arms latching around his broad back.
You blink back the tears that begin to accumulate in your waterline, feeling immensely relieved and happy that your lover has returned to you. You decide to pour your pent-up emotions into the hug, your arms tightening around him with such desperation, as though you fear he would disappear again. Heeseung smiles softly, hearing the not-so-discreet sniffles from you while your body trembles in the security of his hold. 
You don’t mean to be melodramatic, but you really can’t help it. “You’re back. You’re really back.” You croak out, your hushed voice breaking in between your utterance that mirrors the way his heart breaks at the raw vulnerability you let slip between the cracks of your strong facade. You desperately cling onto him, and you can’t even bring yourself to care that you are still in the presence of his teammates, only focusing on him and his warmth that envelops you like a safety blanket.
“I’m back, sweetheart.” Heeseung affirms, his tone an addicting mellow that you want to listen to all day and night. His arms tighten around your body, being careful not to suffocate you but firm enough to ground you to this delicate moment. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry for leaving you again, sweetheart.” He continues to whisper in your ear affectionately, his voice remaining a steady lull while his hand cradles your head with his fingers massaging your scalp tenderly.
You continue to bask in his warmth with your face pressed into the nook of his neck, inhaling his familiar cologne that makes your head dizzy in a good way. Eventually, the tension in your nerves dissipates, and you begin to go lax in his arms, practically melting into him and enjoying how secure you feel being in his dependent arms. You hear him inhaling sharply when the tip of your nose grazes lightly against his skin.
“Let me take a look at your pretty face.” Heeseung murmurs, his hands go cradling your face and forcing you to meet his eyes. Your breath hitches at the closeness between your faces, being hyperaware of his teammates in your presence, but he spares no concern to them as he continues to look at you as if you’re his whole universe, completely enamoured by you. “My pretty baby. The prettiest girl ever, and she’s mine.”
You are taken aback by something dark that shadows his once soft countenance, as though he is possessed by an alter ego you have no idea existed, and the dark undertone of possessiveness in the way he speaks is not lost on you. “Hee—”
Your word is barely a whisper when Heeseung slams his lips into yours, wasting no time in claiming your lips that he had always dreamed of kissing every night on the bed alone, and he can’t even give a fuck that there are eyes watching this intimate moment between two lovers, knowing that he is doing this on purpose to let them know that he’s the one who you’re kissing so passionately as you reciprocate.
The kiss feels searing, encompassing enough to melt any worries from your mind as well as painting the background in a blur, and it hurts so good in the way his lips feel bruising as he kisses you hard, deepening the kiss that sends familiar signals to your now-throbbing clit. In the fiery exchange of your kisses, you loop your arms around his neck while he locks his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him than you already are.
“I’ve *smooch* missed *smooch* you *smooch* so *smooch* fucking *smooch* much.” He mutters in between kisses while the wet noise of his lips smacking against yours is discernible to their ears. You mewl into the kiss, your brain going mushy at the passion of his kisses as though you are his oxygen. He is ravenous, utterly insatiable, but you can feel the love and affection he’s pouring into the kiss.
Soon enough, the intensity of your passionate exchange dwindles, followed by an intervention of a grating cough that is loud enough as it slices through the air for Heeseung to grasp self-control. He sighs lowly against your lips while you can feel his annoyance before he pulls away from you, rendering you disappointed as you swallow down a needy whine.
“We’re still here, you know?” Jake’s tone of mischief prompts you to look over to the three men, who remain unmoving from their prior position. A boyish grin smears across Jake’s face as he continues to look at the two of you, but a fleeting look of something passes by his eyes before you can even decipher it.
“Go on. Reek of the living room with your disgusting lovefest.” Jay remarks snidely with sarcasm lacing his tone. Usually, you wouldn’t feel affected by his remark as he has teased you before, but this time, you feel a pang of hurt by his sharp tongue. You don’t even dare to spare a glance at him, feeling his dark gaze penetrating into you that makes you squirm lightly.
When your eyes accidentally meet Sunghoon’s icy ones, a wave of embarrassment washes over you at the realisation that they have been watching your heated lip-lock with your lover for who knows how long. Your face flushes warmly before you choose to bury your face into Heeseung’s chest, instinctively snuggling into him while he strokes the back of your hair tenderly while his other arm remains locked around your waist.
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist my girl.” Heeseung sounds anything but apologetic, and you can discern a smirk on his lips in the way he speaks. “You know how much I’ve been missing her and all.”
“Oh, we know that much.” Sunghoon speaks up this time, his icy voice sending involuntary shivers down your spine, but you are sharp enough to catch onto the double meaning of his words, or maybe you’re just reading into it deeply again. “Might want to tone the PDA down since we still have kids present.”
You can feel the sudden tension that mounts rapidly between your lover and his teammates, eliciting a confused frown from your lips. The way Heeseung’s arms tighten around you feels taut, as though he is more than pissed off by their remarks. When you slowly lift your head to see your lover, he has his focus directed to them, displaying his handsome side profile to you.
Yup, he’s mad, and you know your man rarely ever gets mad unless it’s some serious shit that is on an astronomical level. His whole facade looks disconcertingly calm, completely tamed, but lethal. You can see the anger in the way a muscle pulses in his jaw as he clenches it, rendering you aroused at the wrong time. Just how fucked up it is when you really want him to be mad at you just like that while he fucks his anger into you.
Yet, you can’t help but wonder what exactly the 02z did to piss Heeseung off when you know it yourself that they would sometimes tease him the way they did earlier. You have a strong inkling that they had done something that felt personal to him.
Before anyone can speak, Sunoo captures their attention, his voice mollifying the palpable tension in the air. “Excuse me? We’re not kids, thank you very much. Mind you that I’ve watched things that are not very kids’ friendly.” He sounds very much offended, but it is enough to draw a soft chuckle out of you.
Their heads, including your lover’s, turn to you simultaneously as soon as the heavenly sound leaves your lips, but instead of being self-conscious of their collective attention on you, the smile on your lips widens, giggling as you watch Sunoo throwing daggers at Sunghoon with his fox-like eyes before giving him his iconic dirty look.
“You’re so fucking adorable.” Heeseung can barely contain the cuteness aggression he has towards you, his fingers gripping your chin firmly to get your attention on him instead. He presses his lips into yours once more as you gasp softly into the kiss, mewling when he faintly bites down on your bottom lip yet in a playful manner. “My gorgeous girl. My angel baby.”
You nearly melt into your lover again when Jungwon intervenes this time, forcing you to break the lip lock. “Alright, lovebirds, enough of that. The food is still warm, so get your asses over to the dining table before it gets cold.”
Heeseung sighs softly in disappointment, but mischief glints in his eye before he leans in to give you a peck on the lips, eliciting another giggle from you. He begins to usher you to the dining table with his hand sliding down to tuck in the back of your jeans so casually as he has you glued to his hip, not that you minded.
“You know, this leader thing of yours doesn’t work on me.” You tell Jungwon rather sassily as you walk past him while the unfamiliarity of your bold cheekiness earns eyebrow raises from some, knowing that this side of you is only reserved for the maknaes.
“But it got you moving.” Jungwon retorts with a smirk on his face while you head towards the table. He makes a face when you stick your tongue out to him. “You act more childishly than I do. Geez, are you sure you’re older than me?”
“Nah, she’s not. She’s also a shorty, remember?” Riki adds as he makes his way to his seat next to Jake, high-fiving Jungwon along the way, his input earning a disbelieving gasp from you.
“Wait till I get my hands on you brats—” You don’t even get to finish off your sentence when Heeseung pulls you down to sit next to him, firm in the way he handles it but careful enough for you not to trip.
Amusement dances in his eye while a smirk twitches on his lips, seeing your sulky countenance with a small pout forming on your kissable lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can teach the kids a lesson or two about treating elders with respect after dinner. I’ll help you.”
“Hyung, you’re supposed to be on our team!” Riki exclaims, feigning hurt and betrayal with a dramatic gasp while you roll your eyes at his usual theatrics.
“And for the last time, we’re not kids!” Sunoo sighs exasperatedly, who is seated next to you, but his whine of disapproval is disregarded by your lover.
“You must be crazy to think that I wouldn’t be on my girlfriend’s team.” Heeseung tells him bluntly, multitasking in filling up your plate with the choices of food of your liking while his natural instinct to provide for you first has you preening silently. “Plus, my girlfriend is always right.” He ends off with an affectionate kiss on your crown, nearly eliciting a satisfied purr from you.
The guys collectively emit sounds that express their derision and disgust, which you know is meant to tease the two of you like they always do, but you can’t help but discern how genuine some specific individuals express. You decide to ignore them and focus on filling your empty stomach.
Throughout the dinner, the guys break into separate conversations while you eat silently, enjoying and savouring the delicious food, until they eventually drift to the same topic regarding the tour concert and their overall experience. Even the tension between Heeseung and 02z has dissipated, as they seem amiable with each other. They also include you in their conversation, sharing and telling you about their experiences enthusiastically, and you give reactions and your input whenever appropriate.
That is until you begin to feel distracted when Heeseung places his hand on your thigh, his fingers being dangerously close to your core that eventually pulsate with need as he occasionally squeezes your thigh. You try not to squirm as you continue to keep up with their conversation, but it gets harder when all you can think about is his fingers going knuckle-deep into your cunt right here and now.
You finally cave in when you press your thighs together, only to be surprised when he uses his hand alone to force your leg part open until the side of your thigh is glued to his. You take a glance at Heeseung, in complete disbelief at how casual he looks as he continues to converse with Jake and Riki.
You narrow your eyes at him as he ignores you, bringing out an annoyed huff from you before you shove another boneless chicken into your mouth, hoping that the delectable garlic flavour is enough to distract you from his hand that remains squeezing your thigh tantalisingly every so often. He’s definitely teasing you, knowing how easily you can get wet because of his hand on your thigh alone, or any part of your body for that matter.
After what feels like an agonising eternity, his hand finally leaves your thigh, allowing you to regulate your uneven breathing by how delirious you were going in your head. You focus on the view in front of you, watching in amusement as the guys engage in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Of course, they would do this since each of them hates doing dishes the most.
“It’s okay. I’ll do the dishes instead.” You interject with a soft chuckle as you slowly rise from your chair, giving in to the pity you have for them, as currently, Jungwon and Sunghoon managed to win against them.
“No!” “It’s fine!” “Sit your pretty ass down!” is all you receive from them in an aggressive manner that elicits another amused chuckle from you, though you don’t miss the last rather flattering remark from Jay.
Just before you can insist again, a yelp leaves your lips when an arm easily locks around your waist to pull you down, finding yourself seated on Heeseung’s lap. Your heart pounds harder in your chest at the closeness between your bodies, and this marks the third time that Heeseung is displaying such intimate affection in front of the guys when he has never shown this much affection to you in their eyes throughout your relationship years, as he is the type to reserve this much affection for you behind closed doors.
“Hee, it’s okay. I can do it.” You tell him, only to feel his arm around your waist tightening in response, depriving you of any means of escape to bestow your generosity to the rest.
“Stay put, baby. You know that you are not included in this stupid game of ours.” Heeseung chides you softly, his tone carrying an undertone of warning that has your clit throbbing. You let out a huff but obey him anyway, though a part of you wants to rebel against him, desiring to find out what would happen afterward.
Eventually, the loser has been chosen, drawing applause and cheers from the other guys while you roll your eyes at their antics, but above all, you manage to wrench yourself out of your lover’s hold and quickly put some distance away in any case he decides to snatch you again, because as much as you love the idea of Heeseung being all touchy with you, your needy pussy is unable to take the prolonged heat any longer.
“I need to use the loo.” You inform him in a rush, not bothering to wait for his response as you bolt for the bathroom in the main hall.
Once you reach inside, you close the door and lock it, making your way over to the hand basin to wash your hands that are trembling just slightly from having to suppress the heat in you. You honestly feel like an animal in heat, desperately needing him to do something to your pussy that is nearly soaked by your own arousal. You look in the mirror to adjust any untidiness in your appearance before mustering the courage to go back out there.
Maybe you can’t completely avoid your lover, but you can definitely evade any of his wits and not indulge him for the sake of your own sanity. Only you know how badly horny you are at the wrong time. Besides, you can’t just go up to him and tell him to fuck you in their dorm here.
You feel like you’re a burglar, your head peeking out of the door to scan the area, noticing the 02z lounging in the living room, whereas Sunoo and Jungwon head into their respective rooms. No sign of Heeseung, suspiciously enough.
You don’t waste time in making your way to the kitchen with the intention to lessen Riki’s burden as you feel pity for him since he must be exhausted from the flight earlier. You instantly spot the giant maknae by the sink with his back facing you. As you get closer, you can hear a string of his grumblings that makes you smile.
“Let me help.” You speak up, startling him before he turns to look at you with hopeful eyes, but at the same time, he seems hesitant.
“It’s okay. Hyung would be mad if he finds out that you’re the one washing the dishes.” He says lightly, his lips forming a small pout.
“It’s really okay, Riks. I can finish washing the dishes fast. Besides, you’re such a slowpoke.” You tease him, wanting to allay any hesitance you can see in his eyes.
Riki breaks into a grin before he quickly washes his hands and dries them off. “You’re the best, you know that?” He gives you another gratitude with a kiss on your crown and a side hug, earning a soft smile from you at the normalcy of his unexpectedly friendly affection for you.
You pull up the sleeves of your top till your forearms before proceeding to handle the leftover dishes effectively. Too focused on completing your task, you fail to heed a certain someone approaching you from behind so stealthily. Just when you finish drying your hands, strong arms snake around your waist before he pulls you to him abruptly, your back hitting his chest.
Your heart palpitates at the sensation of his warm lips pressing into your skin before he leisurely litters soft kisses on the side of your neck. “Why do I feel like you’ve been trying to avoid me?” Heeseung murmurs in between kisses.
“I’m—” You pause, going slightly breathless when his lips on your neck feel sensual, causing your clit to throb familiarly while his arms locking around your waist feel as though you are trapped in his hold, unable to free yourself off him. “I’m not.”
Heeseung smirks against your skin, chuckling softly that sends shivers down your spine. “Who’s the bad liar now, baby?” He nips at your skin gently before pressing his hard-on into your buttcheeks, allowing you to feel his prominent bulge that has you whining softly.
“You’re so mean.” You mutter, but remain lax in his arms as you melt against him, enjoying the closeness more than you intended. “You’ve been teasing me since dinner.”
Heeseung stops assaulting your neck, making you frown at the loss of his addictive lips, only to be taken aback when he turns you around to face him. Your head spins at the escalation, and you barely have time to process when he lifts you by the waist and places you on the countertop. Before you can close your legs, he slots himself in between them, forcing your eyes to meet directly at his eye level.
“How exactly have I been teasing you?” He questions, raising his eyebrow attractively with his dark eyes penetrating into yours that you can’t help but to look away, unable to handle his oozing dominance that he imposes on you. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.”
You whimper, forcing yourself to look at him again and heeding the natural instinct of being submissive to him. He leans into you, his hand placed on the counter right next to you while the other gravitates to your chin to hold it firmly with the padding of his thumb stroking your bottom lip sensually. You part your lips while your eyelids go hooded, feeling breathless at the lack of space between your bodies.
A soft smirk unfurls on his lips, his dark eyes drinking in your every nuance as he is more than aware of how much he is affecting you. “I asked you a question, baby.” His tone sounds deceptively mellow, and you fight off the urge to arch your back needily. “How has daddy been teasing you?”
Oh, fuck me. “You were teasing me with your hand on my thigh throughout dinner.” You tell him in a soft whine, your eyes glistening with unshed tears that derive from your unbearable neediness. “It was mean, daddy. You were mean.”
Heeseung clenches his jaw, biting back a groan at how sensually needy you are with your glossy eyes giving him the ‘fuck me’ look, similar to the way you looked just a few nights ago during your video call. “You have to elaborate, sweetheart. Why do you think that was mean?” He hums, his hand travelling to your waist to hold you.
“Because it got me so wet.” You confess in a whimper, watching as his eyes darken at your words. You have no idea what comes over you, but you dart your tongue out and lick the padding of his thumb before biting it down sensually, noticing how primal he looks while his hand on your waist tightens. “Wanted daddy to finger me back there.”
Heeseung doesn’t hold back a lustful groan, shocking you by how gravelly deep his timbre sounds. His thumb falls from your lips, drawing a disappointed whimper from you, only for him to pull you by the waist roughly until your core is being pressed into his bulge that you swear you can feel it growing bigger.
Before you can utter anything, Heeseung presses his lips into yours, kissing you hard while you grind your clothed cunt against his hardened bulge. His hands fall to your hips that are moving sensually under his touch, eliciting a groan from him before he deepens the kiss, pouring his desire and love for you in the way his lips move against yours with urgent passion. Your hands go winding in his hair, tugging at the strands that send him a pleasurable sensation. 
“Can’t believe how needy you are for daddy. So fucking needy.” He grunts in between the kisses, getting sensitive with each hard stroke of your clothed cunt on his cock that is raging beneath the slacks. His hand moves to your round bum, giving it a tight squeeze that has you moaning into the kiss. “Getting wet just by daddy’s touch.”
“It’s been too long, daddy.” You mutter against his hungry lips as you arch your body into him, your tits pressing into his chest. “I missed you so much.” You whimper, holding him close to you with his body warmth engulfing you.
“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He utters against your parted lips, allowing you to gasp for air from the intensity of his kisses. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, a juxtaposition to how he was kissing you hungrily. He marvels at your beauty, your lips being nearly swollen and your pretty eyes gazing at him with such desperation. “You’re so pretty, baby. Can’t believe I left my pretty baby all alone.”
Heeseung captures your lips again, swallowing your airy moans as you continue to grind on his bulge with an insatiable need. “I’m never leaving you alone again. Too fucking pretty to be left alone.” He growls in between kisses that resonate deep in your core, prompting your lips to part open for his tongue to invade your hot cavern, licking every inch and meeting your tongue in a dance of intoxicating sensuality.
You feel drunk, falling languid at his encompassing dominance over you, falling dumb despite his cock not being inside of you right now. All you know is the overwhelming desire to be consumed by his kisses, by him. The obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s, your tongues lapping each other wetly, the airy moans that escape you, and his very attractive grunts and groans amplify your need for him to take you right here and now despite his present teammates could literally walk in on you at any moment.
Heeseung slides his hands under your top, essentially lifting your top that reveals your skin. The warmth of his palms on your back sends shivers through you as he continues to travel upward, relishing the texture of your skin under his touch. Your clit is throbbing frenziedly as it is being pressured by his bulge pressing directly into it.
“I need more, daddy.” You manage to utter in between the kiss, mewling when he captures your lips in a bruising kiss that hurts so good, springing tears to your eyes. Your fingers find their way to his ears, caressing and fiddling with the metal piercings and loops adorned on his earlobes gently.
Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, rendering you turned on even more when the string of his saliva remains connected to your lips. He can’t resist the way you look, nearly ruined by his lips alone, and kisses you again, his tongue licking the residual of your saliva on your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the pillowy plumpness.
You moan softly, enjoying the prickling pain of his teeth digging into your plump lip as he tugs and pulls it away just slightly, teasing you as more needy whines and mewls escape your parted lips before he leans forward and thrusts his tongue into your mouth, completely insatiable.
“Daddy will give you more soon, pretty baby.” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away to trail his hot, open mouth kisses down your neck. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He rasps against your neck, sending you shivers when the tip of his nose grazes tantalisingly on your skin. “Daddy just wants to eat you up.”
You whimper in response, your head lolling to the back, prompting you to bare your neck to his lips that proceed to litter his kisses and bites all over your skin. Sensing how weakened you are, his palm presses on your back under your top while the other cradles the back of your head, supporting your weakened body caused by his encompassing allure and not wanting you to pull a strained muscle from the way you continue to arch your whole body into him.
Your eyelids flutter closed with mewls and soft moans leaving your lips that go straight to his raging cock as he occasionally grinds into your aching core that has you spreading your legs further apart. The sensation of his lips kissing and sucking your skin, his teeth grazing and biting down on your skin to leave a mark, has your head dizzying while you can feel your pussy now soaking with your arousal. 
But you are immediately pulled out of your lustful haze when you spot Sunghoon entering the kitchen as he makes his way to the fridge, not even sparing a glance at the two of you. Getting self-conscious, you attempt to push Heeseung by the shoulders, but he continues to assault your neck, the explicit sound being patent enough that no doubt reaches Sunghoon’s ears.
“H-Heeseung—” You whisper, attempting to push him by the shoulders again, but you receive a disapproving grunt from him before he sinks his teeth into your skin for good measure, eliciting an involuntary mewl from you. You swear you can see how Sunghoon bristles by the sound of yours just as he retrieves a bottle from the fridge.
“Hee, we should stop.” You whisper weakly, only to be silenced by his lips as he kisses you hard, uncaring that his teammate remains lingering in the kitchen as he drinks his water leisurely, or rather, teammates.
“Mine.” Heeseung grunts against your lips, his voice resounding enough that it reaches their ears as they note the unmistakable claim over you in his dark undertone while you remain oblivious to the tension that brews between him and them once more. “All fucking mine, pretty baby.”
“Yours.” You mewl into the kiss, nearly surrendering yourself to his strong allure once more until you are alarmed by a cough, prompting you to pry away from his insatiable lips successfully this time.
You turn your head to the side, feeling dreadful that the three of them are now present in the kitchen. Their demeanour differs from each other — Sunghoon being nonchalant as if he didn't walk in on your heated make-out session, Jay with an unreadable expression on his face as he leans sideways against the wall by the kitchen entryway, Jake with a wolfish grin as though he has been watching from the start. Yet, you don’t miss the way their eyes collectively fall to your swollen, parted lips as you gasp softly for air, and you finally gain full awareness of how your lower body is still being exposed to their eyes by Heeseung’s hands underneath your top.
You try to pull down your top, but his hands remain obstinate, displaying more than a sliver of your skin to his teammates on purpose for reasons beyond your comprehension. You look at Heeseung with diffidence cloaking you, earning you a smirk from him before he leans in to kiss you sensually in front of them.
“You might want to consider taking it to Jake’s room.” Jay speaks up, his tone is anything but friendly, which brings a sense of dread to you as you break the lip lock. “No one wants to see you fucking her in the kitchen.”
“Not my fucking room.” Jake scoffs at Jay in disbelief, but when his eyes flicker to yours, they darken with mischief and an unmistakable lust that sends you a wave of mixed emotions, above all, pure confusion, but maybe you are mistaken. “Oh, don’t stop on our account. We were quite enjoying the free show you put on for us.” 
Your face flushes warmly with sheer embarrassment as you quickly look away to focus on your lover, only to be baffled at how Heeseung seems unbothered by the fact that his teammates had been watching the two of you being erotically intimate once more. 
“Enough with the teasing. You’re making my girl feel flustered.” Heeseung tells them without tearing his gaze off your shyness as you look down at your hands. You slowly lift your head up when he gently grabs your hand, his features now softening with the familiar affection. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms at the word ‘home,’ but you can’t bring yourself to lift a smile on your lips as your arousal remains pooling in your core from the aftermath of your heated session that was unfortunately interfered with by them. You frown, feeling a bitter resentment in your chest, not satisfied by their interruption even as Heeseung now pulls you with him towards the door.
If Heeseung has noticed how sullen you have become ever since you left their dorm, then he is surely good at feigning indifference, now seated in the passenger seat of your car, whereas you are driving to your shared apartment with him, feeling rather uncomfortable by the slick of arousal staining your pussy folds that you can feel sticking to your panties.
You look at him from the corner of your eye, noticing his collected demeanour, completely different compared to the raw hunger contorting in his features earlier in the kitchen. You grip the steering wheel tight, suppressing the incessant need that is throbbing in your core.
“You were being different earlier.” You speak up, wanting to abate the tension only you can feel, but your tone remains soft, an addicting velvet stroking in his ears. Of course, you decide to bring up the topic that has been lingering in the back of your mind — how oddly possessive he was in front of his own teammates, who are more than aware that you are off-limits.
“How so?” Heeseung asks, and you can’t help but notice how disingenuous he sounds, as though he knows it himself and the ulterior motives he had up his sleeves earlier.
“I just felt that you were being weirdly possessive in front of them.” You mutter, speaking tentatively as if you fear that he might feel offended by your words. You see the way he is looking at you with an unreadable expression. You sigh softly. “What I’m also trying to say is that you have never done anything like that in front of them, Heeseung. Kisses and hugs, yes, but never anything like that.”
You steer the wheel, now entering the parking lot basement where your apartment is situated above it. You receive brief silence from him, leaving you to wonder what goes on in his head. “I’m sorry if my words offended you. I just want to know why—”
“I couldn’t help it. I had to show them, let them know that you’re off limits.” He interjects, his tone remaining mellow but sharp enough for you to note the dark undertone of his jealousy. “I had to remind them that you’re mine.”
Your pussy flutters on instinct, to which you cough lightly as you quickly try to find an empty lot to park your car. “I don’t understand. I’m clearly taken by you, and I thought they knew and respected that.”
You hear him sighing deeply. “They knew what happened two nights ago, when we were on a video call.” He finally reveals the truth, causing you to nearly falter just when you are about to do a reverse parking. “They heard us. They heard you.”
“Oh.” You can only utter, feeling numb by the whirlwind of complicated emotions within you. You don’t even know what to feel — dread? horrified? embarrassed? You look over to Heeseung briefly, who is studying your face carefully, before you skilfully do a reverse parking. “How did they know? I thought you had the room all to yourself?”
“Apparently, the walls were thin, and the room I got had a door that led directly into their room. They were sharing a room while I got a whole room to myself.” He explains, his fingers brushing through his hair in frustration. “I accidentally left the door ajar, and the volume was loud enough for them to hear you.”
“So you’re upset that they heard me, I get that.” You say softly, your hand reaching for his and holding it tenderly while he seeks comfort in your touch. “But I don’t understand why you’re being all jealous. It’s not like they saw me.”
“Didn’t you realise how they looked at you? They looked like they wanted you, and they were basically eye-fucking you.” He counters with a certain bite in his tone, making you falter as you slowly retract your hand from his, but he is quick enough to grasp your sensitivity as he grabs your hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He sighs before placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay.” You reassure him softly, your eyes meeting his, and for the first time, you see how insecurity swirls in his irises. A frown pulls at your lips. “You know that I would never leave you for anyone, Hee.”
“I know, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, continuing to kiss the back of your hand, which makes your heart flutter greatly. “I’m just being stupid, letting my emotions get ahead of me.”
“No, you’re not. I would be the same way if I were in your shoes.” You tell him firmly but soften again when his Bambi eyes meet yours. “I love you, Lee Heeseung. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”
“Damn right, you do.” He smirks softly, his usual confidence returning to his once-disheartened spirit. He presses another kiss to your hand. “You’re mine, and mine alone, sweetheart.” And you would love nothing more than to be his forever, to be claimed by him over and over again.
It isn’t long until you finally settle in your shared apartment, waiting for your lover, who is brushing his teeth in the bathroom while you lie on the queen-sized bed. A part of you feels keenly anticipatory for him to continue where you left off, but when he joins you in the bed, you turn pouty as you observe how sleep is taking over him quickly, his features going soft and his muscles relaxing.
You can feel your neglected pussy weeping for attention from him, but nevertheless, you proceed to spoon him, your arms cradling around him while he buries his head into your chest with his hands underneath your nightgown to feel your warmth. 
Still, sleep does not come easy the way it does with your lover, your mind reeling from the heated session that happened earlier.
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Despite experiencing some difficulty lulling yourself to sleep, you surely did sleep well enough to the point that you couldn’t even feel your lover disappearing from your arms, and for the first time, instead of worrying whether or not you are late for work, you find yourself stricken by a dreadful fear when you wake up to an empty space next to you, as though he doesn’t exist.
The whirlwind of emotions manifests in the unsteady rise and fall in your chest, and your mind is in a disarray of chaos, rendering you incapable of grasping little of the sanity left in you. Your breaths are coming out short and breathless while your chest tightens painfully from a profound anxiety. 
Tears prick in your eyes. Maybe you are being melodramatic, but you fear that whatever happened last night was your imagination and that your boyfriend is still having a tour in another country, miles apart from you. Or maybe he left you to fulfil his duty again.
Without thinking twice, you wrench the duvet from covering your legs and abandon the bed before bolting for the door and swinging it open, completely blinded by the intensity of your emotions going haywire while you feel an incoming downpour of your emotions within you.
“Hee?!” You call for him, your tone lacing with such desperation and your eyes darting everywhere as you search for him in any room, any corner. You choke back a sob as you stumble into the empty living room. “Heeseung!”
“Sweetheart?”
You have never turned around to the sound of his voice as fast as you do now, your frantic eyes meeting his sweet ones as they scan your distressed countenance, bordering on hysteria. At once, a wave of assurance washes over you, allaying your frazzled emotions, but there is a niggling fear at the back of your mind that makes you doubt whether or not your boyfriend is indeed real.
Heeseung, who has been observing you worriedly despite the confusion, takes quick strides forward, gravitating towards you as the pain contorting in your face alarms him. “Hey, hey, I’m here.” His mellow voice is carefully measured.
Shaky breaths leave your quivering lips, your chest tightening painfully with anxiety. “Oh my God, I thought that you—“ You feel out of breath, as though something is wrapped around your throat, constricting you from articulating your tangled emotions.
Heeseung places both hands on your shoulders, his warmth compelling you to meet his firm yet encouraging eyes. “I need you to breathe for me, baby.” He instructs, and you do so, trying your best to regulate your emotions that have been reigning over your breathing pace while your eyes never leave his.
Once you feel calm enough to be coherent, you finally allow the tears to spring up in your eyes, your vision blurring with each blink. “I thought you left me again.” You reveal your worst nightmare to him, your voice breaking as you lack the resolve to remain strong in his eyes. “I thought last night was a dream.”
You must sound stupid, acting as if you’re a child who had just woken up from a terrible nightmare, but you fear the possibility of him leaving you. Not only the thought of him leaving you for work abroad dreads you, but also the fact that he’s a popular rising star with many golden opportunities being offered to him, including being surrounded by very attractive people, and you fear him losing interest in you since compared to his idol-like peers, you are just an ordinary woman and have nothing special to offer him. 
Insecurity begins to creep up on you, but it vanishes as soon as Heeseung cradles your face tenderly with the warmth of his palms, offering you a familiar comfort. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m very much real.” He says so gently that it brings out a sob from you.
Alas, the tears cascade down your face like a waterfall despite trying to hold yourself back from breaking down in front of him for the second time. You try to pull away from him, not wanting him to look at your pathetic state, but he remains unyielding before embracing you with his arms and tucking your head in the nook of his neck.
Just like that, you melt against him, leaning dependently into him as you continue to pour out the emotions that imploded within you. “I’m sorry.” You manage to utter in between sobs as you hug him tighter, needing to feel his warmth deeper to ground yourself in the moment and know that he is real.
“You have nothing to apologise for, remember?” He reminds you gently as he coaxes you with his hand cradling the back of your head and his fingers massaging your scalp affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Instead of responding, you continue to weep, prompting him to embrace you tighter while kissing your crown and whispering sweet words to you. Eventually, your cries dwindle with hiccups occasionally leaving your lips, eliciting an inaudible whine of embarrassment from you as you bury your face into his shoulder.
Heeseung finds himself lifting a smile at how adorable you actually are despite the immense guilt tugging at his heartstrings. Seeing how you easily break down due to finding him missing from the bed, it worries him to a higher degree now as your attachment to him goes deeper than he thought, and he wonders how you would handle his absence the next time. Still, he is determined to figure things out on his end that may or may not involve the management for the sake of you.
“I gave you quite a scare, didn’t I? I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He says softly in your ear, receiving a feeble head nod from you before he plants a kiss on your temple. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but since you’re awake now, I guess I’ll have to surprise you some other time.”
Your ears perk up at his words, and you slowly pull your head away from his shoulder to look at him. “Since when do you do the cooking?” You ask, sniffling as you do so, earning a smile of adoration from him.
“Since I decided that I want to provide for my girl more often now.” He confesses as he cups your cheek while the other remains embracing you, his thumb wiping the tears on your cheeks tenderly. “You’re good?”
You hum in response, but you briefly look away from him when you are hit by the waves of embarrassment over the fact that you broke down again for something that is actually trivial in the others’ eyes. “This is embarrassing. And I still look like a mess.” You mutter as you are more than aware of your probably rumpled morning hair and how you can feel the puffiness on your face from all the crying.
“Nonsense. All I see right now is my beautiful girl.” Heeseung, being the ever-so-flatterer, and yet the genuine sincerity in his remark awakens butterflies in your tummy. Above all, you feel more than grateful that he doesn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed by your breaking down, and instead, he continues to provide you comfort as he holds you in his arms.
“I want to take a shower.” You tell him meekly, your fingers fiddling together as you look at him tentatively. Compared to his fresh appearance, you look like a damn mess, and you feel kind of icky.
“Go ahead. I’ll set up the table for us.” He places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, a gesture that feels more intimate than a kiss on the lips, intensifying the flutters inside you.
You hold back a whimper at the loss of his warmth and touch as he parts from you. You remain glued to the floor, your eyes watching his broad figure retreating into the kitchen, but he stops midway as he senses your presence behind. He turns around with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “Baby?”
You probably look like an idiot standing there with your puffy eyes gazing at him, but you feel the need to blurt out, “I love you, Heeseung.”
Unbeknownst to you, your declaration sends a wave of emotions over him despite his collected demeanour. Sometimes, he feels like he is undeserving of your love, how good you always are to him, and how many times he has taken you for granted, be it intentionally or unintentionally. He hides his pain behind a warm smile. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
Soon enough, time passes by like a blur as you eventually step out of the bedroom, all freshened up with dampened hair. You decide to settle with a simple white tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low below your waistline, allowing a sliver of skin that teases him.
As soon as you enter the kitchen, his eyes immediately latch on to your gorgeous figure, and he nearly chokes on his saliva at the irresistible allure emanating from you. Gorgeous is not even enough to describe you right now, because fuck, how can you pull off such a simple, homey look that strongly tempts him to pounce on you like an untamed animal.
His eyes shamelessly scan your every contour while you remain oblivious to his hunger, your attention being fixated on the food meticulously displayed on the island. The white tank top reveals your skin rather generously, particularly your luscious cleavage that makes his mouth water, and he instantly gets hard at the visual of his marks on your delicate skin in his head.
“Hey, beautiful.” He greets you, his voice cracking at the end, to which he quickly covers up with a cough. You beam with a small smile in response, easing the remnants of his worries for you as you look better than earlier. “Feel better now?”
You nod your head shyly, and it takes every strength in him to resist smooching you relentlessly with his kisses. “Thank you for making breakfast. You didn’t have to.” You utter your gratitude softly, your lips jutting into a pout as the guilt dawns on you. “You just came back from the tour, and you’re already tiring yourself out more by doing this.”
“I’m never tired when it comes to you, sweetheart.” He charms you with a boyish grin that displays his perfect pearly teeth. “Besides, seeing your beautiful face is enough to energise me.”
Your heart pounds harder, and the butterflies in your tummy are impossible to tame at the effect of his charms that are working more than effectively. “Gosh, you’re being cheesy again.” You huff, feigning annoyance, but your cheeks feel warmer in the way he gazes at you lovingly.
Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, feigning indifference. “It’s the effect of being in love with my girlfriend, I guess.” He says in a very attractive drawl, his lips curving into a smirk as he is very much amused at how easily flustered you are.
You roll your eyes at him, but your lips twitch into an involuntary smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
The smirk on his lips is replaced by a wide-stretched grin. “But you love me anyway.”
“That, I do.” You say, finding yourself softened up again as you gaze at him with unadulterated adoration. “I love you, Hee.”
The way you gaze at him feels as though he is your whole world, and it doesn't help with his emotions that are in disarray, torn between wanting to kiss the fuck out of you or simply make love to you. “Don’t look at me like that, baby.” 
You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, and he swears he can hear his cock groaning beneath his briefs. “Like what?”
“Come here, you.” He grunts, taking long strides forward before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, his fingers tingling from making contact with your skin. His other hand goes cradling your face, tilting your head up until his nose brushes lightly against yours. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
Your soft chuckles sound melodious to his ears. “And you’re so handsome.” You purr, smiling lazily as though you are drunk on whatever spell he is casting on you. Your eyes drink in his every feature, marvelling at how he has been perfectly sculpted. Your finger absentmindedly traces along his jawline, sending shivers through him. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”
He so badly wants to hear those words from you again, needing you to claim what is rightfully yours. “That’s right, pretty baby. I’m yours.” His voice is a low rumble that resonates deep in your core, and you recognise the familiar possessiveness glinting in his eye.
You smile at him before tilting your head to a perfect angle and pressing your lips into his, kissing him sweetly while he eagerly reciprocates. The kiss starts off soft and slow, your lips moving in perfect tandem, but eventually, a familiar hunger rouses within you as you deepen the kiss with your hands sliding beneath his black top, feeling up the prominent ridges of his abdominal muscles as they faintly flex beneath your touch.
Heeseung can feel his cock hardening with each passing second, and it feels nearly impossible to resist your allure that calls for him as you continue to ravage him with your lips and hands. He groans against your lips when you teasingly slide your fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs, moving lower and lower.
Heeseung forces himself to pull away from your addicting lips, his breathing ragged due to suppressing his own desires. “We should stop, sweetheart, or else I might get tempted to take you right here and now.” He tells you honestly, but his tone carries an underlying warning that tempts you to go against it.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” You counter cheekily, gazing at him sensually as you slowly turn around, only for a startled squeal to leave your lips when he slaps your ass with a resounding smack. “Heeseung! That hurts.” You tell him, pouting your lips as you rub the spot where he smacked you.
“Eat, or you’ll get more spanking.” He says firmly, his tone and his eyes feel intimidating enough for you to rethink your choices just when the second option resonates with you more.
“Fine, daddy.” You decide to be mischievously petulant, huffing and showing him attitude as you walk away from him with a purposeful sway of your hips, feeling his eyes fixated on you.
His eyes watching you with dark intent, groaning quietly as his cock gets excited at the mere word of ‘daddy’ leaving your kissable lips. He sighs softly and shakes his head. By you, he is forever undone.
“So, what is your schedule for today?” You ask as you settle across from him on the island, seated on the high stool. You preen when he pours the syrup on your French toast but instantly falters when you realise that he might head over to the company after this. “Do you have anything on at work?”
“I’m free for today, and I might also be free for a whole week.” He informs, chuckling softly as he sees the way your eyes light up like fireworks. “So I’m all yours, sweetheart.”
“Really?” You ask again, receiving a confirmation from him as he nods his head. An idea pops into your mind, an idea that is definitely more than suggestive. A sly smile spreads across your lips. “So we can do whatever we want?”
The familiar hunger and lust swirling in your irises is not lost on him as he smirks lightly, feeling greatly amused at how awfully needy you are, but it won’t hurt for him to tease and edge you for a little longer. “Whatever my gorgeous girl wants.”
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It isn’t that you are being ungrateful for the opportunity that was given to you that allows you to spend more time with your lover. Sure, the day is spent with cosy domesticity — heading over to the supermarket to buy some groceries, baking brownies together, and he even entertained you by joining you to colour your colouring book. But something is missing, and you know that it has to do with the fact that he is playing dumb to your overt display of need.
Oh, you know that he’s teasing you, edging you. You tried to seduce him under such pretences, hoping that he would get the damn hint that you wanted him to fuck you, but he didn’t indulge you, simply overlooking your patent desire and being nonchalant about it. You even enticed him with the way your hands roamed around his muscles and how you poured your need into the kisses you shared with him in between those moments. Yet, he never went beyond those kisses and touches, impressively enough, because you know that your boyfriend has an interesting level of sexual drive.
It is more than obvious that he’s playing around at something with you, and it’s fucking infuriating because you need him after he left you high and dry last night, after being apart from him for more than a week. Hence, you remain pouting with your arms folded below your chest, curling yourself in the corner of the sofa, and being all sulky towards your boyfriend, who is comfortably settled just a few spaces away from you.
Little do you know that Heeseung has been taking great delight in the way you are getting antsy and restless, completely deprived of the type of intimacy you desperately crave. Still, he knows that he eventually needs to give in to the pity since his girl can get quite sensitive, even if it’s merely a harmless teasing.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, finally breaking the ice that formed ever since you turned sullen. He looks away from the animated television, his eyes settling on your face.
You want to ignore him, but one look at his handsome face is enough for your resolve to crumble. “I’m bored, and this show is boring me.” You tell him in a grumble, and technically, it isn’t entirely a lie, but there is no way you would let him know the exact truth. “Can we do something else?” Your eyes sparkle with hope as you look at him.
“What exactly do you want to do?” He asks slyly, wearing a mask of genuine curiosity that elicits a disbelieving scoff from you.
You narrow your eyes at him in suspicion at the way he bats his eyes at you innocently. “You know what, Hee.” You deadpan, running out of patience.
His mask fades at the moment a smirk unfurls on his lips. “I really have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” He drawls, and that’s all it takes for you to crawl towards him, his eyes darting down at the teasing visual of your luscious cleavage.
You lack any shame as you throw your folded leg on the other side of his thigh, now straddling him with your hands gripping his shoulders. “Heeseung, please.” You whine softly, your bravado slipping and revealing unadulterated neediness, and yet he can see how shy you are with your face flushing with diffidence.
Heeseung is enjoying this view more than he intended, his eyes practically fucking you, which makes your pussy flutter and your clit throb, impelling you to grind on him slowly. “Use your big girl words, baby.” He demands huskily, fighting off the urge to touch any part of your curves as his hands remain lax to his sides.
“I want daddy to fuck me with his cock. I need daddy to fulfil his promises to me from two nights ago.” You keen as you continue to hump on his very prominent bulge that you can distinctly feel the shape protruding in his sweatpants. You return your needy gaze to him, tears glistening in your eyes that he can’t help but soften at. “I missed daddy so much.”
“I know, baby.” He says so gently, but the intensity of his primal hunger that shadows his countenance remains unyielding. He finally caves in as he reaches for your face, his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately. “My pretty baby has been feeling lonely for more than a week.”
“Want daddy to be close to me.” You sob softly, your eyes remain glistening with unshed tears as you allow your emotions to take over you, which has you faltering in your momentum of humping on him. “Want you to never let go of me.”
“Daddy’s here, baby. I’m here.” He reassures you in a soft lull, now leaning his body slightly forward with one hand pressing on your back to prevent you from falling backward while the other remains stroking your cheek as he continues to whisper sweet, assuring words that elicit a mewl from you. “You won’t feel lonely anymore.”
Soon enough, you become distracted by the intimate contact between your warm bodies and how mesmerised you are by his handsomeness up close, your eyes gazing at him with both desire and adoration before you slowly find yourself grinding your clothed cunt into his hardened bulge that feels rock solid.
“That’s it, pretty baby. Grind on my cock just like that.” He whispers amorously, his dark eyes drinking in your delicate features that slowly contort into pleasure as your clit begins to feel stimulated. His eyes fall to your luscious lips that go parted with whines and silent moans. “Wanna give daddy a kiss?”
You nod your head feebly before leaning in with your head tilted to an angle for your lips to mould perfectly with his. He kisses you softly and delicately, as if you are made out of glass, a juxtaposition to the way his hips buck up to meet your every move as you grind on him with such desperation.
But your hunger for your lover is insatiable, propelling you to deepen the kiss as you press your lips into his hard while your hips stutter against him, losing the momentum as you lose yourself in the passion of your shared kisses, your hands cupping his cheeks while his arms lock around your waist.
“You don’t have to rush, baby. We can take our time.” He manages to mumble in between the kisses, and you force yourself to control your insatiable need, whimpering against his parted lips when his hands grip your hips to guide your movements. “Nice and slow, just as daddy likes it.”
Heeseung is completely enamoured by you and the sheer pleasure contorting in your face, your lips going parted with a dulcet tone of your needy whines and airy moans while you arch your body into him as you rock against him. His eyes fall to your exposed chest that your tank top can barely cover up, compelling him to pepper feathery kisses on the expanse of your chest.
Your head is going delirious just by grinding on his cock alone, going back and forth in a continuous motion that rouses your cunt to sensitivity, allowing you to distinctly feel the shape and girth of his cock hidden under the material of his sweatpants. 
“You feel so big.” You moan out softly in his ear, your breath tickling his earlobe while the sound alone is enough for him to cease his feathery assault on your chest. “Can’t wait for daddy to fuck me and be mean to me.”
Heeseung groans lowly at the lewd words coming out of your pretty mouth, his hands on your hips tightening from the sheer restraint of the ravenous beast within him. “My pretty baby is so fucking desperate, yeah?” He rasps against the column of your throat before nipping at it with his teeth.
You whimper at the prickling sensation of his teeth sinking into your delicate skin, but it only impels you to rock against him harder. “Only for you, daddy.” You whisper in his ear, such innocence in the way you speak but dripping with sensuality.
Something inside of him snaps, and all inhibitions are thrown out of the window, allowing his inner demons to consume you wholly now. “Fuck, come here.” He nearly growls out his words, shocking you at the gravelly timbre in his voice, barely giving you the time to process when he captures your lips in a searing kiss.
Heeseung kisses you roughly, even more so with an avid passion that intensifies the familiar heat in your core, drawing languid moans from you as you part your lips for him to thrust his tongue into you, exchanging saliva with you and licking every inch of your wet cavern. His hands manoeuvre underneath your tank top, feeling your skin underneath his touch before he deftly unclasps your strapless bra with one hand.
Heeseung masters such adroitness when he successfully removes your bra and tosses it aside without breaking the heated lip lock. A whine leaves you when he pulls away from your chasing lips; the string of saliva remaining connected between your lips and his is a testament to your co-equal desires.
Your cunt clenches as soon as he leans down and envelops your nipple with his lips, sucking on it despite the material of your tank top remaining a barrier. You arch your back at the sensational pleasure in your nipple as he continues to suck it while his other hand is occupied in palming your once-neglected tit.
“Hee—” You moan out, and you swear you are about to come undone just by getting your tits manipulated by his mouth and hand. You look down, only to feel more turned on at the sight of him now licking your nipple languidly, staining your tank top with his saliva before he bites it down gently and does the same to the other nipple. But you can’t take the unbearable heat in your core anymore. “I need you now.”
Heeseung decides to give in to your needy request as he catches on to the palpable tremor in your voice, but not before giving your perky nipple a hard lick with his tongue as well as squeezing your other tit for good measure.
“Hold on tight to me, baby.” He demands as his hand moves under your ass cheek to support you while you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He proceeds to rise from the sofa and makes his way to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with ease.
Lacking self-control, you decide to cave in to the temptation and press your lips into his skin, sending shivers down his spine at the sensation of your warm, wet lips. He clenches his jaw as you continue to distract him with kitten kisses all over his neck, knowing how sensitive he actually is, particularly when you lick his Adam's apple sensually.
“Fuck, sweetheart, if you keep doing that—” He groans deeply when you nip at his Adam’s apple hard, his cock twitching because of it. He squeezes your ass tight while his steps become disconcertingly stringent. “You’re so gonna get it.”
You continue to lick and kiss his neck, even as he finally enters your shared bedroom. He stops by the vanity table to retrieve something he had prepared earlier without your knowledge while the other hand continues to carry you with ease before taking long strides to your bed.
In a blink of an eye, Heeseung manoeuvres you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress that springs up and down from the impact, but you quickly recover as you raise your upper body with the support of your elbows pressing down on the bedding. Your eyes feast shamelessly on how attractive he looks in a simple black top with the silver necklace adding to his allure, and his bulge is prominent against his sweatpants, but what highly intrigues you is the pink silk restraints in his grasp. 
You meet his eyes, only to bite down your lip in an attempt to suppress your arousal as you notice how pissed off he looks, reminding you of those concert clips of him that you practically get off to. You squeeze your thighs together.
“You naughty little minx.” His husky voice is laden with lust despite the anger dripping from his tone, and that alone excites you unlike any other. His dark eyes penetrate into you condescendingly. “Is this what you want? You really want daddy to be pissed off at you so he could teach you a lesson?”
“Want it so much.” You purr, arching your back purposely to make your perky nipples prominent against the thin material more than they already are while your gaze remains sultry. “Want daddy to fuck me mean.”
His dark eyes drink you greedily, how sinfully divine you look so pliant on the bed with your white tank top being wetly tainted by his saliva and how your nipples get perkier, your chest heaving up and down from the tension dawning in your bedroom. “Take off your top, baby.” He orders gruffly, taking steps forward towards you.
You do as he says so, raising your upper body to balance yourself as you remain in a sitting position before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it over your head. The cool air immediately causes your nipples to harden.
Just as you toss aside your top, your heart lurches in your chest when he slams your body back onto the mattress, his fingers curling around your neck firmly while he has you pinned underneath him helplessly. You gasp softly from the sudden impact before flickering your eyes to his dark ones, rendering you awed and tense by the sheer intensity in his eyes.
“What? Scared of daddy now?” He asks mockingly, his knee pressing into the mattress that is situated in between your legs, and it takes every strength for you to avoid grinding your clothed cunt on his thigh as you can feel him pressing into you.
“N-No.” You stutter, feeling both nervous and excited at the unknown of his plans as well as the unpredictability of his behaviour that you have always found incredibly hot.
He scoffs with the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk, and fuck, he’s so hot that it makes your pussy weep. “Daddy wants to do many things to you; you have no idea.” He says lowly, his fingers curling around your neck, loosening just a fraction. “But first, what’s the safe word, sweetheart?”
As much as he wants to ruin you till you’re a sobbing mess, he needs another reassurance from you, an additional consent sort of, as he worries that he might go too far on you. “Pink.” You tell him softly.
Heeseung scans your face, searching for any hesitation, but all he sees is the unadulterated need of your salacious craving for him, drawing a smirk on his lips. “You’ve done it, sweetheart. You get mean Heeseung now.”
You gasp into his mouth when he captures your lips in a breathtaking kiss, stealing your every breath, which leaves you panting into his mouth, but he uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue into you, licking and tasting you, never getting enough of you. Your hands fist at his shirt, panting and mewling against him, but he captures your hands and raises them above your head.
Heeseung bites down on your bottom lip so hard that you swear it is bruising enough to draw blood, eliciting a whimper from you, but you feel highly aroused at his roughness. He pulls away from your lips, allowing you to gasp for air. You attempt to gain control of your hands, but he grips them tight, prompting you to look at him with confusion, only to watch as he deftly binds your wrists together with the pink silk restraint.
Heeseung is unsparing as he proceeds to trace an ardent path with his lips on your skin, kissing you down your neck until he reaches the expanse of your bare chest. You whimper as he roughly palms your tits before taking one nipple in his hot mouth.
You moan at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling and licking your nipple before he does the same to the other nipple while multitasking in palming and squeezing the flesh of your tits. You grind your throbbing cunt on his thigh. “Nngh! Hee—“ Your lips part open in a silent scream at the stinging pain in your tit that is smacked by his palm.
“Fucking missed these tits. Made to be sucked.” He groans as he pushes your tits together hard with his thumbs pressing down on your nipples before sucking them again, loving how the pearls hardened in his mouth. Your cunt clenches uncontrollably at your tits getting manipulated by his relentless hands and mouth.
But he releases them, only to slap one tit as he watches it jiggle, eliciting a painful cry from you, but you arch your body with your tits pushed out. “You love getting your tits slapped? Nasty slut.” He does it again, each slap to your tits amplifying your pleasure and sensitivity that has you moving your hips to rub your clothed cunt on his thigh. “That turns you on, yeah?”
If anything, his degradation turns you on more than anything, finding it incredibly hot that your sweet, gentle boyfriend is uttering such degrading words to you. He slaps your tit hard once more, drawing a sob from you before he leans down to lick your abused nipples and peppers kisses on the spots where he slapped you.
By the time he’s done, your nipples are glistening with his saliva, a barrier that provides you warmth against the cold temperature of the room. He trails open-mouth kisses down the plane of your stomach with his fingers tucking underneath the waistband of your sweatpants before swiftly pulling it down, now revealing your baby pink underwear that bears a noticeable spot of your arousal.
“Dirty, naughty girl. Getting wet from getting your tits slapped and played with?” He teases you, causing your face to flush warmly. He proceeds to pull down your underwear, only to press it into his nose as he smells it. “Fuck, baby. You smell so good.” He nearly moans out his words while you are left flabbergasted.
“Heeseung!” You blurt out, feeling embarrassed that he continues to smell your stained underwear as though it is his salvation. At the exclamation of his name from you, he stops smelling your underwear and directs his glare to your face.
“Wrong.” He says coldly, and before you know it, your thigh stings painfully at the impact of his palm. You whine in response and try to close your legs, but he forcefully slots himself in between your legs and lands a smack on your other thigh, harder this time. “What should you address me as?”
You sob out softly, your eyes glistening with unshed tears that bring a smirk to his lips, because he’s not even done with you and yet you’re already on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry, daddy.” You whimper out your apology, earning yourself a kiss from him on your waxed mount.
Heeseung brings himself to the eye level of your pussy while his hands press on your inner thighs, forcing your legs to spread. “Daddy’s home, princess.” He coos, reminding you of the video call where he spoke to your pussy as if it were a person. Your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his fingers to spread your wet folds apart lewdly. “Look at you, princess. Already dripping wet because of me?”
You can feel your pussy preening under his attention and the way the padding of his fingers is stroking along your folds absentmindedly. “Missed you so fucking much, princess.” He places a wet kiss on your swollen clit that throbs intensely, prompting you to buck up your hips at the sensitivity. “Daddy thought of you every night, got me imagining how good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”
A concoction of lust and yearning laces in his tone, and when you look down at him, his eyes are heavily fixated on your preening pussy before he leans in to place another sensual kiss on your clit. “Seungie—“ You clamp your lips shut as soon as his dark eyes flicker to yours with a disapproving glare.
He sighs against your pussy, his hot breath fanning on your folds. “But as much as daddy missed you, you need to be taught a lesson.” He brings his palm down to your pussy, tearing a cry from you at the painful impact, but he spares you no mercy as he does it again, causing your hips to buck up to meet his slaps instinctively despite the pain. “My princess has been missing so much that she easily gets wet even when daddy is slapping her.”
Another slap to your pussy sounds lewdly wet with your arousal as it echoes in your room, causing your hips to buck up again, and you lose track of how long he goes on until you can’t handle the fiery sensitivity. “Daddy, please.” You whimper, your lips quivering with need while a single tear rolls down your cheek.
This time, the padding of his fingers lands on your clit hard, eliciting another cry from you, but he leans down and silences you with a chaste kiss. “Shhh, shhh, baby.” He shushes you, his lips grazing your parted ones with his breath mingling with yours. He is being deceptively soft, his features softening as he gazes into your glossy eyes, but his fingers around your neck remain unabating. “Take what daddy gives you like a good fucking slut you are.”
You whimper as you bare your neck to him with your head tilted up, feeling the instinctive need to submit to him, which earns you a pleased smirk from him before you find yourself being rewarded with a rub on your clit, only for a moment until he lands a sharp slap on your pussy again. You hold back from letting out another cry as he does it again, his dark eyes locking with yours as though challenging you to look away. 
Tears accumulating in your waterline at how merciless your lover is being, giving you both pleasure and pain, but mostly denying you the pleasure. You give him a doe-eyed look that you know he would never be able to resist, and the effect seems to be working when he falters before wrapping it up with one hard smack to your pussy.
You release the waterfall as they flow freely, your eyelids fluttering close when he presses a kiss on your forehead, nearly purring at the affection. “There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says as you look at him, butterflies swarming in your tummy at the smirk on his handsome face. “Now daddy will reward his princess.”
Your heart races in anticipation when he brings his thumb to lips and licks it, his eyes never leaving yours as he does so, before finding your clit and rubbing it slowly yet effectively as you feel the bundle of nerves being stimulated. 
His dark eyes watch you intently in the way pleasure contorts in your features as you flutter your eyes closed with soft moans leaving your lips. “Daddy loves how sensitive you are just by getting your clit played.” He remarks, chuckling darkly as your hips begin to move back and forth sensually as though you are being fucked by his cock. “You’re that desperate, it’s so pathetic, princess.”
Heeseung knows that you revel in the degradation he bestows on you, and that itself makes him harder than he already was. “Feels good. Missed your fingers so much.” You utter breathlessly, feeling your abdomen flexing at the building pleasure.
“Princess wants my fingers in her?” He hums, his fingers sliding along your wet folds teasingly while his question earns a needy whine from you.
Before you know it, his two long fingers slide into your wet hole, relentlessly plunging deeper, which has you gasping brokenly at the resistance of your walls being stretched just by his fingers alone, and yet you need his fingers to boost your pleasure to a higher degree.
“More.” You tell him needily as he begins to fuck your tight hole with his fingers, delving rhythmically without losing momentum in the way he rubs your clit unrelentingly. “Please, daddy. I need more.” 
He lets out a condescending scoff, his eyes leering at you. “Greedy baby. I never taught you to be greedy.” He admonishes, but he increases the intensity in his deft fingers, fucking you to the point you can hear your own wetness that sounds obnoxious. “I’ll give you more, alright. I’ll fucking ruin your pretty pussy. Wanna see if I can make you squirt.”
You are not confident that you can since you have never squirted before, but with the way his fingers are fucking into you skilfully while each thrust hits harder than the previous, maybe you might be proven wrong. You close your eyes, nearly choking when he squeezes your neck while your hips meet every thrust avidly. You can feel the knot in your tummy forming tighter and tighter while something feels different this time.
“Right there!” You moan out as soon as his fingers hit that spot before he curls them, drawing out something more impactful from you as he becomes dangerously relentless. Your arms twitch while your hips stutter midway from meeting his thrust, feeling the inevitable release. “Daddy—”
“Come on, squirt for me, princess. Make a fucking mess over my fingers.” He grits his teeth, sheer determination painting his handsome face as he drives you closer to the edge of pleasure that feels intense, and before you know it, the knot in your tummy unravels as you explode with clear fluid gushing out of your cunt while your thighs quiver.
Though you have come undone, he doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you, overstimulating your every sense that has you whimpering for reprieve, only to earn a wet slap on your pussy that makes your hips twitch from the impact. You try to close your legs, unable to handle the sensitivity as he rubs your clit with maddening precision, but he smacks you in the ass.
“Who said you could close your legs?” He nearly growls out, now positioning himself where he is on the same eye level as the explicit view of your pussy. His arms go hooking around your thighs, preventing you from closing your legs again. “Daddy hasn't even gotten a taste of his slutty princess yet.”
You open your mouth to retort, but a breathy moan comes out instead when his tongue licks a broad stripe of your pussy. He presses his tongue into your clit, feeling it throb faintly before licking it like it’s a lollipop. He stops and rears back, only to spit out a glob of his saliva as it lands on your clit, causing you to roll your eyes in sheer pleasure. You arch your back, moaning as his tongue goes lathering his saliva on your clit messily before skilfully stimulating it.
“Princess tastes so fucking delicious. I could never get enough of you.” He mumbles against your pussy before flattening his tongue to drag it in an up-and-down motion in between your wet folds while the tip of his nose hits your clit that is aching tremendously. “Been hungry for this sweet pussy for too long..”
You want to grab onto his hair, but the restraint binding your wrists is a hindrance. You feel his long tongue now fucking into your wet hole, moaning at the taste of you while it sends a vibration through your sensitive cunt. Your body writhes under his firm hold as he eats you out vigorously like a madman, and your abdomen trembles with the familiar knot coiling tighter. 
“Daddy, please! I can’t!” You sob out, lacking the endurance of your sensitivity as tears spring in your eyes, but he continues to eat you out, his tongue delving deeper that allows you to feel the wet muscle grazing your walls.
You can only produce pleasurable moans and whines of protest as you struggle in his vice-like grip. He must’ve felt bad hearing the occasional sobs leaving your lips as his hand finds home to your tit, palming it softly and twiddling with your nipple, but the action only intensifies your pleasure.
“Give me one more, baby.” He speaks to you from below, his voice sounding attractively husky before his tongue goes attached to your budding clit while his fingers plunge into your sopping cunt.
The dual sensation overstimulates you unlike anything else, eliciting higher-pitched moans from you as you arch your back in pure ecstasy while your thighs quiver from the sensitivity. Your lower abdomen feels tight with tension, and you know it won’t be long till you come undone again. With a hard flick of his tongue on your clit, your body convulses as your orgasm comes crashing down on you like tidal waves.
“Heeseung—” You utter his name weakly as he laps up your nectar with his tongue before finding strength to correct yourself again. “Daddy, I need a break, please.” Your voice trembles the same way your thighs do, shivering when his tongue licks a long stripe along your soaked pussy.
Heeseung finally halts before hovering on top of you with his eyes darkening with something predatory. He grips your chin firmly while his thumb presses down on your bottom lip, forcing you to open your mouth, and you do so without question, only to be highly aroused when he spits a glob of his saliva and your cum into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself.
A crazed lust glints in his eyes as he watches you swallow with delight, finishing it off with a moan before he smashes his lips into yours in a frenzied hunger, kissing you messily that involves tongues and teeth clashing, nothing like the way your kisses with him were.
Heeseung breaks the messy lip lock and leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily while his eyes search for yours, seeing how adorably dazed you are. “Hope you’re still with me, baby. Daddy needs your mouth to satisfy his cock.”
You know that your oral fixation for his cock is avid when you find yourself salivating at the vivid image of his cock that you and your pussy have dearly missed. You watch as he leans away from you before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up with ease. You attempt to make a move to get out of the bed, eager to kneel for him, but he stops you before your foot can touch the floor.
“No, baby. I won’t have you hurting yourself by kneeling for me on the floor.” He tells you firmly, and for a moment, confusion flickers in your gaze. “Just stay on the bed and sit on your knees.”
Your heart swells with love at his thoughtfulness amidst the prevalent lustful haze in the room. With your slightly aching thighs, you unsteadily change your position, but his hand remains gripping your arm firmly to support you. Once you are seated on your knees politely with your restrained wrists pressed to your chest, he releases you.
Realising that you are directly at the eye level of his cock, your face flushes warmly while you notice how his bulge becomes more prominent before slowly lifting your head to look at him. The fact that he is towering over you right now makes your pussy flutter, and it isn’t helping that he is smirking down at you while he lazily unties the string with one hand to loosen his sweatpants before pulling them down until they fall to the floor.
“Hope you’re hungry, baby, because daddy needs your mouth to take his cock for as long as he wants.” He says darkly, his hand pulling his grey boxers down until his cock manages to spring free, going completely erect as it is pointing towards you.
You nearly purr in satisfaction at the delicious visual of his cock that you had dreamed of on nights without him. He steps closer, enjoying the way your eyes are hungrily staring at his cock.
“Wanna be good for you, daddy.” You say softly, leaning into his touch as he cradles your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. His heart palpitates when you look up at him with the prettiest doe-eyed look on your face, such innocence despite kneeling for him in sheer nudity. “Wanna be your good girl.”
“You’re already my good girl, baby.” He hums softly, his other hand grabbing the base to guide it to your face, only for him to slap his heavy cock to the side of your face a few times that arouses you before teasing himself in the way he slides the swollen tip on your cheek while you wait in anticipation. He grabs your chin firmly. “Open your mouth for me, sweet girl.”
You open your mouth wide open, taking the initiative to stick your tongue out that allows him to slide his cock on your wet muscle back and forth, allowing you a taste of his arousal that leaks from the tip, before he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth. You envelop your lips around his girth and proceed to take him with your head bobbing while your tongue manipulates around his tip that feels engorged.
“Fuck, baby. You’re taking my cock good.” He moans breathily, feeling his pleasure mounting from your skilful mouth and tongue. His hand reaches for your hair and grabs it in a makeshift ponytail to assert control over you. “But need you to take daddy’s cock deeper.”
You nearly gag when he lodges his cock deeper until the head is pressed into the back of your throat, and you display your struggle as his girth constricts your airways, prompting you to nudge your bound wrists to his abdomen while your breathing goes erratic.
Heeseung tilts your head to meet your glossy eyes, his face remaining stringent, but there is a softness of concern in his eye. “Don’t panic. You’ll only make it worse. I need you to regulate your breathing for me. I know you can, baby.” He instructs, his tone encouraging enough for you to gain determination. “Breathe through your nose.”
You do so, now breathing normally through your nose while the panic in your chest dissipates. He slowly releases your hair, allowing you to set the pace as you proceed to fuck him with your hungry mouth. The salty taste of his arousal leaking from his tip makes you moan while he can feel the vibration of your muffled moan from the back of your throat, intensifying his sensitivity as he throws his head back, letting out a low, guttural moan that goes straight into your cunt.
“My eager cockslut.” His husky voice is laden with lust and a familiar derogatory that elicits a needy whine from you, but it is muffled by his cock that is lodged deeper in your throat. “You missed daddy’s cock so much, hm? Look at how eagerly you’re taking me with that slutty mouth.”
You hum in response, your eyes tearing up from the way his cock brutally breaches your throat that hurts so good. The sound is utterly lewd in the way you take the entirety of him into your mouth as it echoes off the walls of your shared bedroom while the corners of your lips are dripping with your drool.
You love the way his handsome face contorts into pure gratification when your tongue swirls and licks his engorging tip that you fear will explode. You daringly use your teeth to graze his thrusting cock, earning yourself a glaring hunger in his eyes when he looks down at you, but you know that he’s into it when he makes no remarks, only emitting attractive sounds of his groans and breathy moans.
Eventually, Heeseung reaches the heights of his pleasure, blood rushing and pumping in his cock while he is on the verge of release. He grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail again, but this time, with roughness that elicits another moan from you despite the pain in your scalp. “I’m gonna come, baby, and you’re gonna swallow every drop like a good cockslut you are for me.”
You choke and gag on his cock, but he doesn’t spare you any concern as he gets lost in the sea of pleasure, using your mouth as his cocksleeve and driving himself to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel his rhythm going erratic and how his bulbous tip is practically pulsating on your tongue. In just a few seconds, he lodges his cock deeper in your throat and goes still as he releases viscous streams of his heavy, sticky release that you are forced to swallow.
“That’s a good girl, taking every drop.” He praises you in a low rumble that has you preening before you eagerly swallow for more with your tongue circling around his girth, your mouth now painted white with his cum.
Heeseung finally pulls his cock from your mouth, allowing you to gasp for air while your jaw aches from the exertion. He grabs you by the chin firmly, asserting dominance again that has you meeting his eyes in pure submission. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby. Let daddy see the mess he made in your mouth.”
Your cunt clenches at his words while you stick your tongue out with your mouth wide open again, showing him the remnants of his white sticky release on your wet muscle. Heat pools in your core once more when he throws a wad of spit into your mouth before he closes your mouth for you, forcing you to swallow, and you do so, enjoying the union of his spit and cum trickling down your throat.
Heeseung proceeds to untie the pink silk restraint around your wrists, giving you the impression of regaining your freedom until he quickly proves you wrong when he deftly manoeuvres you into a position where your face is pressed into the mattress.
“D-Daddy?” You stutter nervously as he forcefully takes both your arms and folds them together, pressing them into your back before tying the same pink silk restraint around your arms in a firm knot.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. I’m gonna break you since that’s what you wanted, yeah?” His voice sounds raw with a primal hunger while his breathing sounds heavier, and you can only visualise in your head how hot he looks as you are unable to look over your shoulder. He has you on your knees still as they are pressed into the mattress, leaving your back to arch for him and the explicit visual of your two holes displayed in his eyes. “Daddy’s been missing his princess a little too much.”
“Need you so bad, daddy.” You whimper when he taps the bulbous head of his cock on your wet folds, impelling you to spread your knees further apart and your back arching deeper. 
“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll be fucking all night.” He says smugly as he eyes down at your gaping hole that has been assaulted by him earlier. With one last tap of his cock to your pussy, his powerful hips surge forward as he thrusts his cock into your awaiting cunt, gritting his teeth at the resistance of your walls around his girth. “Damn, baby. No matter how many times I fuck you, you’ll always feel tight around me.”
You can only moan, instantly going dumb just by another push of his cock as he begins to fuck you in slow, deeper strokes, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein in his sheer girth that has your head going delirious.
“I fucking missed this sweet pussy. Princess was made to take my cock. Gonna ruin your pussy for anyone else.” He lets out a guttural moan as he thrusts into you roughly, his muscular hips snapping against your buttcheeks with resounding smacks. “Pretty baby being a good cocksleeve for me. So fucking good to me. Need to be buried in you all night.”
Your clit feels neglected despite your pussy being fucked good by his cock. You whimper, turning your head to the other side with your cheeks pressing into the mattress. “Daddy.” You whine needily, earning yourself a sharp smack on your ass that springs tears to your eyes.
Heeseung grabs you by the hair and pulls you up just slightly while the other hand grips your waist to support your upper body from falling forward. “What more does my greedy baby want?”
“Want your finger to rub my clit.” You keen, desperation dripping from your tone. You moan out when he slams into you unforgivingly, causing your whole body to shake from the impact.
“Greedy fucking slut. Just my cock alone is not enough for you.” He growls out, his tone is absent of any usual loving or softness, just rough with relentless degradation that is driven by his primitive hunger for you.
Still, Heeseung caves in to your request, but he pulls you up until your body is upraised while you remain standing on your knees. He releases your hair and wraps his arm around your chest while the other travels down to your aching clit. He rubs it hard and fast with maddening precision, stimulating your clit effectively with the pleasurable knot forming in your tummy.
With the dual sensation of his cock ruthlessly bullying in your cunt and his fingers rubbing your clit relentlessly, your eyes nearly go white as you throw your head back in pure ecstasy, your mouth gaping with pornographic moans that spur him further.
“Keep making those pretty fucking sounds, baby. Want to hear how good I’m making you feel.” He growls in your ear, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He places a chaste kiss on your earlobe while he never falters in his momentum of fucking you deliriously. “You’re making daddy very happy.”
“Daddy.” You whine, your voice lacing with pure need for his affection. You turn your head to meet his glaring eyes. “Please kiss me.” You request softly, to which he grants it, dipping his head down and capturing your lips in a kiss that sates your need.
You moan against his parted lips, your cunt clenching hard around him as the knot in your tummy tightens at an alarming rate. “I’m gonna come, daddy.” You whisper sweetly, your tongue darting out to lick the seams of his lips. “Want you to come with me.”
“Whatever my gorgeous girl wants.” He kisses you once more before pulling away from you while you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, completely surrendering yourself to the imminent release as the knot in your tummy threatens to snap. “Here it comes, baby.”
You moan and whine uncontrollably at the intense stimulation of his fingers rubbing your clit hard and rapid while your tits jiggle from the way he slams his hips into you, his cock battering your cunt and delving deeper that you swear you can feel him in your tummy.
With another guttural moan from him, his orgasm crashes down on him in a torrent of ecstasy at the same time your orgasmic release hits you, and his hips go still against yours as he dumps his cum into your cunt. He groans as he bites down on your shoulder, feeling your cunt milking him greedily, as though it has been eager to be filled by his cum.
Your body feels weak as you remain leaning into him dependently, but he gently lowers your body till you go lax on the mattress. Your mushy brain can barely process anything when he turns you around and pins both of your wrists above your head to tie the pink silk restraint around them once more.
“No, Hee—” You protest weakly as he rears back, towering over your pliant figure. Your pussy flutters as you watch him pulling his black top off his body and tossing it aside, revealing his lean body with toned muscles that entice you to feel them under your touch. “Untie me, please?”
But Heeseung disregards your polite request as he simply casts you a smirk, now moving on the bed and pulling you close to him by the legs. “You’re the one who said that you wanted to be tied down while I fucked you, so I’m giving you what you want.”
You watch in lustful anticipation as he grabs the base of his cock and aims it at your pussy. He taps the red tip on your clit repeatedly with such intensity that it stimulates your bundle of nerves once more, eliciting whines from you as you squirm at the high sensitivity.
“I’m still sensitive!” You whine loudly as your hips stutter, trying your best to avoid him, but he pins you by the waist and continues to tap the tip angrily on your clit before sliding it up and down in between your folds. “No more!”
“Don’t be ungrateful. Daddy is giving you more than what you asked for.” He admonishes, his husky voice sounding rough. His eyes flicker to your glossy ones, and he adorns a taunting smirk on his lips. “Like I said before, it’s daddy’s job to spoil his princess, and I’m spoiling you with my cock since you’ve been busy fucking around with that damn dildo.”
Heeseung groans as he tilts his head up, feeling his own sensitivity as his tip feels good pressing into your clit while you marvel at his attractiveness, particularly the way his Adam’s apple is bobbing. “It’s about time I remind you that only my cock can satisfy your needy pussy the way you want.”
You are about to counterattack with the reminder of him who bought that dildo for you as a gift of an apology before he went for another tour, only to gasp at the sheer girth of his cock breaching your pussy without any warning.
His chest rumbles as he lets out a growl that sounds borderline animalistic, relishing the way your walls stretch divinely around him. “Fuck, feels just as good as the first time.” He remarks gruffly, now hovering above you with both hands pressing down into the sheets on the sides of your head. “This pussy is mine, and you’re mine.” He snarls possessively, sending pleasurable shockwaves to your body.
With another thrust into you, Heeseung proceeds to fuck you in hard, deep strokes that have you nearly seeing stars in your vision. His hands fist the sheets, watching in both amusement and desire as your mouth is gaping with airy moans while your glossy eyes look dazed as they zoom into his. His cock practically twitches at the way you look adorably dumb just by his cock bullying your insides the second time.
“Don’t look at me like that, baby. Can’t have you going dumb on my cock too soon.” He chuckles breathily above you, the sound itself sending flutters to your heart. You blink your eyes, watching as his pendant necklace dangles in the air right above you, getting even more turned on at the mere sight that causes your cunt to clench around him hard.
“Fuck, baby. You’re trying to vacuum my cock or something?” He groans loudly, nearly faltering in his steady momentum as your walls hug him tighter. He forces himself to push his cock deeper into you, eliciting another pretty moan from you.
“You’re so hot, daddy.” You utter in a drunk slur, smiling lazily at him despite the intensity of his dark gaze making your insides purr loudly. “Want you to fuck me angrily like how you looked in those concert clips I watched.” You babble, your mind knowing nothing but him and his cock alone.
Deja vu hits him like whiplash before he recalls the same words you spoke two nights ago during that video call. He scoffs, smirking meanly at you, and has your walls fluttering around his cock in excitement. “You’re such a dirty, horny slut, princess.”
You hum in agreement, mewling when his fingers caress your face that feels deceptive. “I’m your slut.” You state proudly, moaning when he hits the spot that has you throwing your head back, his cock angling deeper that hits your g-spot.
“Yeah, you are.” He growls as he fucks his cock into you with an unyielding force that causes your tits to jiggle, enticing him to grab a handful of it while the other remains supporting his weight from pressing down on you. “You’re daddy’s slut only. My gorgeous slut with the perfect pussy.”
You preen under him, almost forgetting that your wrists are bound by the restraint just when you are about to run your fingers through his hair. His hand goes gripping on the bed frame behind you, allowing you the delicious view of his bicep muscle flexing with every forceful thrust he delivers to your sopping cunt.
“H-Harder.” You utter shakily, finding yourself slipping into the heady mix of lust as each thrust of his cock into you rouses the building pleasure to greater heights.
Heeseung complies, thrusting into you harder with a profound impact that knocks the breath out of you. Sweats begin to glisten on his skin as you spot trails of sweat dripping down his sideburns while his jaw is taut with tension and his dark eyes are full of concentration, wanting to bestow sheer pleasure on you.
You have no idea how long he has been fucking into you harder and rougher, but long enough for you to discern the sound of your bed creaking from the impact, and your mind is reduced into nothing, with only moans, gasps, and whines being coherent. You feel your cheeks wet before realising that they’re your own tears.
“You look so pretty when you cry, baby.” He comments, his voice ladening with raw hunger and lust as he drinks in the pain and pleasure twisting in your delicate features while you remain helpless with your wrists bound. “Daddy's gonna make you cry more.”
Heeseung hoists both legs up till your kneecaps are pressed into your shoulders, shocking you with your flexibility that you have no idea you are capable of. In this position, his cock feels deeper in you to the point where you feel overstimulated despite the knot in your tummy having yet to unravel.
“Heeseung!” You scream, unable to handle the intensity of his momentum as he fucks you with reckless abandon, battering your walls ruthlessly while depriving you of the ability to writhe or squirm. It hurts so good to the point where you are torn between enjoying the painful pleasure that feels addictive or uttering the safe word that hangs at the tip of your tongue.
“Take it, baby. Fucking take it all!” He growls, his face contorting into pure madness that you can’t help but to find him unbearably hot, causing your nearly battered pussy to flutter. “I’m going to dump my cum in your cunt. I’m gonna breed you with my seeds, knock you up with my baby. You’d look so hot with a pregnant belly.”
A broken moan leaves your lips as your mind is reeling at his words, but soon enough, the knot in your tummy is close to snapping. “I’m close, daddy!” You announce in a cry as tears continue to spill from your eyes.
“Come for me, baby.” On his demand, you are slammed by a shuddering release that has your body convulsing beneath him while he encircles his hand around your ankle and places a soft kiss above your ankle as you continue to bathe his relentless cock with your sticky essence.
Heeseung drags on your orgasm a little longer before his own imminent climax hits him as he tumbles over the edge of ecstasy, spilling his cum into your cunt and filling you to the brim as this time, his cum feels more loaded than the previous. He groans, feeling your cunt spasming around him as he lodges his cock deep, ensuring that your hole is taking all of it.
But when he looks down at your conjoined sexes, he spots the union of his cum with yours leaking from your hole. He clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction before withdrawing his cock from your battered pussy and allowing your weary legs to settle down.
Just when you think he is done, your once-heavy eyelids snap wide open at the sensation of his tongue lapping up your pussy lips. “Heeseung!” You whine, squirming away from him, but he releases a grunt and holds your inner thighs down firmly, depriving you of any means of escape until he’s done with you.
“I can’t! It’s too much!” You sob out, feeling overstimulated to the point where your emotions are going haywire, but the way your hips buck up to meet his tongue betrays you.
Heeseung continues to lick your messy pussy and pushes the leaking cum into your hole despite your body attempting to thrash around in his vice-like hold. His tongue scoops the remnants of your cum before he hovers above you and grabs you by the throat, forcing you to open your mouth.
You watch with glossy eyes as he transfers a wad of your cum with his into your mouth, moaning involuntarily when it hits the back of your throat. He leans in to kiss you hard, bruising your lips again with how ravenous he is. He pulls away from you while the string of your saliva is prevalent until he cuts it off with a lick along the seam of his lip.
Your lips quiver with a soft whine of protest when the bulbous head of his cock slides between your wet pussy lips, your glossy eyes meeting your lover’s face as he looks down at your nearly conjoined sexes. “No more, daddy, please.” You protest weakly, finding the strength to look down at his erection going hard for you once more.
“One more, baby. You can give me one more, yeah?” He rasps, pressing his lips into your cheek as he enters your weeping hole with an obscene squelch, your walls accommodating to the familiarity of his sheer girth and feeling as though they have been moulded to the shape of his cock.
“You said that earlier too.” You whimper shakily as he begins to thrust into you slowly, taking his time to relish the way your walls envelop around him like they never want to let go.
“I know, baby, but I can’t get enough of you and your sweet pussy.” He murmurs, his tone a familiar mellow, while his mean demeanour melts into the sweet and gentle lover. His thumb strokes your clit tenderly, eliciting a mewl from you. “I promise I’ll try to be gentle this time.”
“Can you untie me, please? I wanna hold you.” You plead tearfully, feeling utterly desperate to hold your lover and seek comfort in his warmth.
He kisses your cheek in response before planting his hand next to your head while the other skilfully unties the restraint without faltering in his thrusts. Once your wrists are freed from the restraint, you are quick to lower your aching arms and run your fingers through his tousled hair while your lips manage to find him, kissing him faintly.
“Still sensitive, daddy.” You cry softly, your indecisive hips squirming and meeting his thrusts while he amplifies your sensitivity by rubbing your clit in measured precision. You mewl at his overflowing affection as he peppers kisses all over your face with one arm snaking around your arched back.
“You’ll feel better with daddy’s cock soon.” He says so gently despite his austere demeanour, which remains unyielding enough for you to surrender to him. He presses his lips on the corner of your lips, biting back a groan when your walls vacuum his girth. “Thought you wanna be my good girl.”
“I do.” You keen as you attempt to meet his slow yet powerful thrusts, but his hips keep pressing down on you, making you feel his cock at deeper heights. “I love being your good girl.”
Heeseung kisses you as a reward before rearing back just slightly for him to look down at your tummy. “Look, baby. My cock is deep inside of you.” He says smugly with a soft smirk on his lips, prompting you to glance down, only to moan at the sight of your lower tummy bulging with each thrust of his cock. He presses down his palm on your bulging tummy, adding more pressure. “Feel that?”
You nod your head numbly, getting lost in the abyss of pure pleasure. “M-more.” You manage to enunciate your words despite your mind being reduced to nothing coherent except the sheer need of him and his cock. “Want you to breed me again, daddy.”
“I love you.” His sweet declaration strikes a chord deep in you amidst the heady mix of lust, and his eyes gazing into yours are a reflection of the sentiments that your heart harbours for him. “You’re so perfect for me, like you’re made just for me. My perfect girl.”
You moan softly, your cunt squeezing him at his praise. The overstimulation is slowly replaced by an incandescent pleasure that feels searing and all-consuming as you meet his thrusts with a renewed vigour. His thumb remains stroking and rubbing your clit, which amplifies the familiar knot in your tummy.
“Feels so good.” Your eyes go white as you throw your head back in pure ecstasy while the hypnotising arch of your back entices him to take a nipple in his mouth in the way your tits are being pushed out.
“Yeah, you do.” He rasps against your tit, giving it another sloppy kiss before hovering his face above yours and positioning his lips to your parted ones, your bated breaths mingling together.
Your heart flutters at the mere gesture of his fingers intertwined with yours in a loving yet tight grip before pinning your entwined fingers next to your head. You squeeze his hand as soon as you feel the familiar yet profound release that you know will be a messy gushing release.
“I’m close, Hee.” You inform him in a weak moan as the intensity of his thumb rubbing your clit sends you hurtling to the edge and his thrusts become unyielding and forceful, bordering on intoxication, making you arch your body into him.
He can feel his own pleasure teetering as he squeezes your hand. “Let it go for me anytime, baby. Daddy’s got you.” He whispers affectionately in your ear, his hips snapping into yours as his cock lodges deeper to the hilt.
You hook one arm around his neck, needing him close to you as you are teetering on the edge of sheer pleasure. The sounds of your whiny moans and mewls go straight to his cock as it twitches inside of you, on the verge of release. With one last push, his own orgasm washes over him violently at the same time your release gushes out in an uncontrollable fluid while your body convulses beneath him, soaking him and the sheets entirely, finally attaining the pinnacle of your pleasures.
Still rubbing your slick clit to prolong your delicious orgasm, he looks at you, feeling the insatiable beast within him growling for more of you as he watches your delicate features twisting in pure pleasure with silent moans leaving your parted lips while you continue to bathe him with your essence.
Heeseung can’t resist capturing your swollen lips, his hips faltering while his cock remains inside of your cunt that is brimmed with the union of your releases. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue roaming around your hot cavern lazily and licking the seams of your lips before devouring you again.
You remain rocking your hips despite him pressing his hips into yours. Your fingers go tangled in his hair, tugging on the strands that bring him pleasure as he groans lowly into your mouth. You continue to make out with him, basking in the post-orgasmic release while the exertion begins to dawn in your limbs.
“I missed you so much.” You mewl into the kiss, tears welling behind your closed eyelids as he kisses you sweetly yet softly that flutters your heart. You pull his body closer to you with your legs wrapped around his thigh, craving this much-needed intimacy that you have been craving for ever since his long absence.
“I missed you more, baby.” He murmurs against your parted lips, allowing you to gasp for air. He begins to litter his kisses down on your neck. “I love you.” He utters, his voice laced with affection that feels profound, while his chest blooms at the realisation that he is finally back in your arms, back to you.
You cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I love you more.” You tell him, your voice trembling with emotions as you gaze at him tearfully, unbelieving at the fact that someone like him is your lover.
His eyes soften at the tears rolling down your stained cheeks freely once more. “Not more than I do.” He whispers, dipping his head down and kissing you deeply on the lips, pouring every bit of his emotions into the way he kisses you.
Heeseung pulls away from you while you whimper at the loss of his warmth on your body, only to find yourself being lifted by him as he rolls you on top of him, your lower abdomen pressing into his cock that slowly renews with vigour.
“Heeseung.” You whine, feeling both amazement and shock at the fact that he manages to get hard again in a short span of time. You force yourself to raise your upper body with your palms on his pectoral muscles for support.
“I can’t get enough of you.” He grunts as soon as your walls envelop him, his hands pressing you down by the hips while you slowly sink onto his cock with a broken moan. “Want you to ride my cock.”
Just like that, the two of you succumb to the abyss of sheer pleasure once more, losing yourselves in the heady mix of sweat, lust, and love. You even lose track of time for the hours ever since he started fucking you, and he fucks you in every position that is accessible for him to seek your lips in a kiss occasionally. 
By the time Heeseung decides to fuck you for the last time, your pussy is leaking with the union of your insatiable release so much that it stains your sheet to the point where it practically collects a pool of white sticky cum.
You begin to feel the need to let go again for the last time as your legs are shaking tremendously from the unrelenting overstimulation, finding yourself in a position that is similar to a mating press with your knees being folded and your legs spread widely for him. You feel more exposed compared to any position, your battered pussy being spread open by his thrusting cock. 
“I need to come.” You hope you sound coherent enough after the incapability of enunciating anything other than a litany of moans, whines, and whimpers. Your glossy eyes scan his face again, admiring how he manages to maintain his hotness in the way his dark eyes penetrate into yours with the strands of his hair falling over his forehead that are soaked with his sweat.
“Me too, baby.” He says, his voice sounding rough at the edges as he delivers one impactful thrust that triggers both of your orgasms that have been teetering on the same edge, his cum filling your used, battered cunt to the brim.
As the last echoes of ecstasy wane in the air, you allow your spent body to fall limp with your terribly aching legs remaining trembling from the countless orgasms he coaxed from you. Though your need is fully sated, you feel an overwhelming need to break down with the whirlpool of emotions unabating within you.
Before you know it, a loud cry escapes you while your chest feels oddly tightened. The waterfalls come down uncontrollably despite your efforts to curb this unexplainable feeling inside of you. All you know is the need to let out those tears.
But Heeseung shows no sign of panic, as if he knows that this would happen. Instead, he positions himself next to you and cradles your trembling body close to him. He tucks your face in the nook of his neck while you continue to sob out profusely, your hands blindly seeking his warmth and skin as they roam around his torso before hugging him tight.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” He whispers in your ear with an overflowing affection that only seems to bring out more sobs from you. With one arm around the expanse of your shoulders, he places the other on your lower back and draws soothing circles on your skin, grounding you to the moment as he pulls you closer to him. “You did amazing, my sweet girl. Daddy is so proud of you.”
Amidst the relentless downpour of your emotions, you silently preen at his praise. He continues to whisper sweet words softly in your ear, his arms holding you like you’re his prized possession, never letting you go. He presses butterfly kisses all over your face as soon as your cries and sobs abate, leaving only occasional hiccups from you that sound adorable to his ears.
A soft whine emits from the back of your throat as the pain, the aches, and the overall exertion dawn on your wrecked body profoundly while your eyes burn from the aftermath of shedding incessant tears. “I know, I know.” He says in a soft hush, his lips pressing on your hairline as he continues to coax you. “Let me take care of you now.”
Something inside of you snaps painfully when your lover pulls away from you, leaving your still-trembling body alone on the bed as he stands on his feet further from you. “Don’t leave me.” You whimper in pain, your chest heaving erratically as you can feel sobs coming up to your throat.
Heeseung looks at you with the softest and gentlest gaze that provides you a minuscule bit of comfort for your distressed mind. “I won’t. I’m just going to fill up the bathtub, but I’ll come back to you soon.” He tells you assuringly before turning his back on you and making his way to the bathroom quickly, because seeing your heartbroken eyes seems to hurt his heart.
His hands work methodically as he prepares everything that is needed while waiting for the bathtub to be filled up with the right temperature, but his mind is not in the present as it drifts to you, needing to be by your side as soon as possible. Once he’s done, he wastes no time in returning to you, finding you all curled up on your side with sniffles leaving you.
Heeseung bends down next to the bed until he meets your glossy eyes. “We’re going to take a bath together, alright, baby?” He says as he strokes your wet cheek tenderly.
“Okay.” You utter weakly, sniffling for another time before you attempt to raise your body, only for him to slide his arms underneath you and lift you up with ease. You want to let him know that you can walk on your own since you know that he must feel exhausted too, but even uttering a word feels like a heavy chore.
So you lean into him with your head resting on his shoulder, your eyelids feeling heavier by each passing second. You squirm lightly in his hold when he submerges into the filled bathtub with you before he positions you carefully where you find yourself seated in between his legs with your back pressing into his chest. Eventually, your body goes completely lax as you allow the warm temperature of the water to seep into your aching muscles.
The low groan of relief rumbling from his chest behind you sends you the shivers as the bath soothes his spent body, but you relax again as you lean into him with his arms around your waist. Comfortable silence wraps around the two of you as you bask in this much-needed intimacy while he occasionally gives you kisses on your crown and forehead.
Seeing how languid you are, Heeseung is determined to take extra care of your well-being — washing your hair and massaging your scalp, lathering soap on your body while you mindlessly follow his gentle instruction for him to rinse every part of you. He is being expertly careful with practiced patience, knowing that you are still sensitive from the aftermath.
And you notice it; even the little actions he does, you really do. It makes your heart swell with emotions as you can feel his love in the way he takes care of you. You want to reciprocate, but you are not in the right headspace just yet.
“How are you feeling right now, baby?” Heeseung murmurs against your hair while he strokes your bare arm tenderly, now holding you close to him with his arm around your waist.
“Sore.” You mumble numbly as you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes before snuggling into his solid, dependent body. “Want you to hold me close like this.” You whine, curling your body into him as you position his arms a little higher and closer to you.
His breathy chuckles awaken the butterflies in your tummy. “I would like nothing more.”
Time eventually passes by where you are now seated on the edge of your stained and ruined bed, adorned in Heeseung’s oversized shirt and underwear, not bothering to put on any pants. The sound of his footsteps draws your attention as you slowly lift your head, watching him put on a white shirt that sadly conceals his toned physique.
Heeseung stares at the ruined bed with a frown, his eyes narrowing in slight disgust at the sight of the soaked bed sheets, some parts of which are pooled with white sticky cum, but there is a sense of pride at the fact that he managed to make that much of a mess out of you. He exhales through his nose as he runs his fingers through his damp hair. It looks like he’ll do the laundry tomorrow instead, or rather later since the time has struck five in the morning.
When his eyes search for yours, his frown deepens as your cheeks shine with crystalline tears that cascade down silently. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, his mellow tone lacing with a sense of urgency.
Heeseung already expected you to cry from the intensity of your shared passion earlier, but seeing you crying silently right now hits him in the guts, rendering him panicked at the thought of his action or word hurting your feelings.
“I’m fine. I just need—“ You pause, allowing yourself to release a soft sob while you languidly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. “I just need some time to calm down properly.”
But Heeseung is not convinced, prompting him to kneel in front of you. Despite your blurry vision, you can see the pain contorting in his handsome features. His jaw clenches as you continue to cry silently. “Shit. Was I too rough on you?” He asks, anger rousing within him at himself, but the devastation is prominent in the way he speaks to you. “Was I too much? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby—“
“No, you didn’t.” You cut him off quickly, but the dubiety in his eyes remains. You sniffle and look away from him, your face flushing warmly. “You could even go rougher on me next time.” You mutter shakily.
Heeseung feels genuine confusion, uncertain whether or not to believe your declaration when tears continue to cascade down your beautiful face. “If so, then why are you still crying?”
“I have no idea, but I just feel the need to let it out.” You tell him honestly, sniffling for the last time before feeling the warmth of his palm on your cheek. You lean into his touch as he wipes your tears away. “It’s probably because the sex was too good.”
For a moment, there is silence, but it is shattered by his melodious chuckles. Your heart pounds harder when he embraces you into a comforting hug as you bask in his scent. “Baby, you got me so worried because I thought I did hurt you.” He says, his fingers stroking the back of your head.
“You could never hurt me, Hee.” You utter as you slowly pull away from the hug, and you are hit by a familiar melancholia that derives from the reflection and sentiment you kept hidden for a long time. “You’re a good man, and you’re too good for someone like me.”
Heeseung feels his face drop the same way his heart slowly sinks as he notices the raw vulnerability in your glistening eyes and how there is a palpable tremor in your voice. “No, baby, we don’t do that kind of talking, alright?” He doesn’t mean to sound so stern, but he fears to hear the next words that come out of your mouth.
“I’ve been feeling insecure, Hee.” You finally reveal your deepest insecurity, whimpering as you hug yourself. You continue to pour out your feelings without looking at him because you know that you’d only break down again. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been going on tours more often for months, but there were moments where I questioned myself: what did I have to offer to someone like you?”
You hear him sighing softly, but you don’t grant him any opportunity to intervene. “You’re a popular rising k-idol, and you’re incredibly extraordinary with talents other than your handsomeness.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips, but then comes the heart-wrenching feeling that twists painfully inside you. “But I realised that I’m not in the same league as you.”
“Baby—“
“Your line of work often requires you to be surrounded by attractive people in the same league as you, and they have more to offer than I ever will.” Your voice breaks at the thought of him losing interest in you, and of course he might since you’re bland compared to someone like him. You recoil from him, as though he’s hurting you. “I don’t deserve you, Heeseung.”
“Sweetheart, stop.” He forces himself to sound assertively stern, eliciting a whimper from you. He rises from the floor, only to take a seat next to you without any space in between. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up to meet his sorrowful eyes. “If these things have been constantly plaguing your mind, then I have failed as your boyfriend.”
“What? No, you have not, and you have never!” You exclaim with vehemence, surprised at how strong your voice comes out, but the words that leave from your sweet, loving boyfriend’s mouth ignite something akin to anger. Your eyes reflect your self-resentment and bitterness as you look at him. “I’m the one who failed as your girlfriend! I let my emotions and insecurities get the best of me, and I’m bothering you with such trivial matters.”
“Listen to me, please?” He pleads softly as he cups your cheeks, and you clamp your quivering lips shut, your eyes searching for his, noticing the raw vulnerability that reflects your own. “You may find it hard to believe me, but I’ve been having similar thoughts to yours. I've been feeling the same insecurity too.”
“What do you mean?” You ask, frowning, because why would your confident boyfriend, who is a popular rising star and who also happens to be very attractive, be insecure?
“Sometimes I feel like I’m undeserving of you and your love. I often wondered if I was the right man for you because honestly, sweetheart, you deserve so much better.” He confesses, his voice trembling with emotions despite his collected demeanour. He leans his forehead against yours without letting go of your face. “I took you for granted, be it intentionally or unintentionally.”
You shake your head lightly. “But you have never—“
“You told me that I’m too good for you, but it’s actually the opposite.” He smiles weakly as he strokes your soft cheek with his thumbs, gazing into your eyes. “I relied on you a lot for emotional support despite you having to deal with your own emotional baggage, but you’re always so good to me, and you always made it look so easy. It is one of the reasons why I fell for you. Your resilience and compassion. It’s truly admirable — you are admirable.”
You want to spill the tears teetering in your waterline, but your chest blooms delightfully at his kind, genuine words that move you so deeply, and so you continue to listen to him while offering comfort as you place your palms on top of his hands.
“And whenever I had to leave for tours, where I’d be miles apart from you, my heart broke each time at the reality of being apart from the woman I would always need.” The yearning in his deliverance tears a soft sob from you. A warm smile spreads across his lips before he leans in to kiss your wet cheek. “You’re the pillar of my strength, sweetheart, and I would want to spend the rest of my life with someone as beautiful and amazing as you."
Heeseung drops his hands and leans away from you while you watch him with curiosity as he seems to be retrieving something from the pocket of his pants. “Which is why I bought you this.”
There is an emotional lump in your throat when he opens the small blue velvety box that contains two similar platinum rings. “Heeseung.” You utter his name weakly, uncertain which emotions you want to express.
Heeseung adorns a boyish grin that makes you fall in love with him all over again. “I did promise you during that video call that I’d be buying you a ring.” He says as he grabs one of the rings and holds your hand before sliding it onto your ringless finger with ease as it fits around you perfectly.
“Now your turn.” He encourages you to take the ring from the box before you do the same to his ring finger while your insides remain a jittering mess.
“You even got my size perfectly.” You murmur as you examine the ring on your finger with sparkling eyes, feeling incredibly touched despite wondering how he even managed to.
“Well, I might or might not have stolen one of your rings and carry it with me wherever I go.” He confesses, smirking at you mischievously, and that earns him a playful scowl from you, but in all honesty, there is nothing more romantic than him confessing that he carries your ring wherever he goes.
Instead of admiring his own ring, Heeseung watches you with pure adoration as you keep examining yours like it is now the most meaningful thing to you. “Technically, we could be engaged now. Plus, I did say that I intend on marrying you someday.” 
Your heart flutters while he wipes the leftover tear stains on your cheeks. You look at him with a smile that hits Cupid's arrow to his heart. “So is this like a promise ring?” You ask shyly.
“Something like that, but the most important thing about our rings is that it will serve as a reminder to us.” He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Your heart pounds harder when he places a kiss on the ring itself. His eyes soften when he looks at you again. “A reminder that we would always go back to each other when we’re apart.”
You can’t seem to articulate your feelings, but your eyes speak volumes of the love you have for him, an unconditional kind of love. “I still have to figure things out on how to make you stay by my side even when I need to attend to my idol-work responsibilities.” He sighs softly, but the firm determination in his eyes provides more than just an assurance to you, dispelling any insecurities you once had. “But for now, if I ever have to leave you again, I hope that when you look at this ring, you’ll remember that I’ll go back to you, like I always have.”
“I love you, Lee Heeseung.” You utter, your voice softening as you cradle his face tenderly. “I love you so, so much.”
He smiles softly before grabbing your hand and placing a deep kiss on your palm. “I love you more than you love me.” He declares in between the kisses while his eyes remain gazing at you with pure love and affection. “No one could ever come close to my heart that belongs to you since day one.”
“Since the day you had a crush on me?” You ask cheekily while you gaze at him like a lovesick fool, a lazy smile stretching across your lips.
“Damn right.” He smirks at you before leaning forward to lift you up, eliciting a playful squeal from you as he settles you on top of him, sitting sideways. His nose brushes against yours delicately, tenderly. “You had my heart first back then, even before I realised it.”
With that you close the distance as you lean into him, your lips colliding with his in a shared tenderness, kissing him sweetly while the world fades into insignificance.
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The room is cold, but his body provides the warmth you need as you are spooned by him, and the bed the two of you chose to sleep in is situated in the guest room, considering that the bed in your shared room with him is ruined. 
Your leg is thrown over his, hugging him as though he’s your bolster. Your arms are wrapped around his torso, and your head is tucked against his chest, allowing you to hear his steady heartbeat that has become your lullaby. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are already staring into yours, awakening butterflies in your tummy.
“Why are you not asleep?” You ask in a hushed tone, your lips turning down into a frown.
He raises his eyebrow at you, and you can see mischief in the way his lips twitch into a smirk. “Because I couldn’t sleep?”
You roll your eyes at him and huff. “Isn’t that the obvious.”
“Can I ask you something?” He speaks up after contemplating ever since he tucked you into bed with him.
“What is it?” You ask as you adjust your position where your chin is resting on his chest, your eyes sparkling with interest that brings out a chuckle from him.
“Do you really get turned on whenever you watch me perform?” He runs his fingers along your bare thigh absentmindedly. Oh, he has been thinking about this for a while now, ever since your confession during that video call.
“I do, but just certain songs that you perform.” You reaffirm with a sheepish smile, ignoring the goosebumps on your skin at the sensation of his fingers caressing your thigh. “Besides, who wouldn’t get turned on to see her hot boyfriend going wild on stage?”
He raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “I go wild on stage?” The question itself elicits a scoff from you because there is no way he doesn’t realise it.
“Yeah, you do. Not that I’m complaining. Got your fans going crazy most of the time.” You chuckle but pout instantly at the familiar bitterness in your chest. “But it got me feeling quite jealous too with how you were so into it, showing all that to other people.”
“Sweetheart, you know I only have eyes on you.” He says softly, distracting you when he squeezes the flesh of your thigh that has your breath hitching. “And you’re the only woman I get turned on over for.”
“Heeseung.” Your face flushes warmer than it did before. 
He grins deviously as he sees how flustered you look. “Did you forget that I also promised that we’d be fucking every day once I came back?”
You scoff out a chuckle. “Good luck with that, because I’m sore everywhere right now, and I’d probably wake up late.” You say, attempting to retract your limbs from your dangerous lover, who looks like he is about to pounce on you anytime now.
But he has you in a firm grip. His hand moves to your round bum and squeezes it. “But baby….”
Shaky breaths leave your lips as you struggle to compose yourself. “Gosh, your sex drive is insane.” You mutter breathlessly, but your heart pounds harder while your clit tingles familiarly.
“Can’t help it when you’re the woman I’m in love with.” He smirks lazily as he dips his head down to kiss you on the lips, and you find yourself reciprocating eagerly. He pulls away, his breath mingling with yours. “Plus, I get turned on by you even when you breathe.”
You roll your eyes at him. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And hot.” He adds while the smirk on his lips never falters.
You can practically hear your pussy purring in agreement. You hum, adorning a lazy smile on your kissable lips that he can’t help but to kiss again. “The hottest ever.” You mumble against his lips.
The comfortable silence returns, but it doesn’t last long when he calls for you again. “Sweetheart?” You hum sleepily in response as the weight in your eyelids gets heavier.
A couple beats of silence. “Do you ever want to ride your pretty pussy on my face? Because I’m into that.” He blurts out rather bluntly, and just like that, you are rendered fully awake in disbelief.
“Baby, no.” You tell him with a frown, but a part of you feels enticed by the idea.
“Come on. It’d be hot with you sitting on top of me and making a mess all over my face.” He reasons with you that you find ridiculous, and yet your mind proceeds to produce such lewd images that faintly ignite a desire in you. “Maybe I’d get you to rub your clit on my throat since I know you have a thing for my Adam's apple.”
You groan into his chest. “Heeseung, sleep.”
But your lover is relentless, even when he’s teasing, or perhaps he’s not at the moment. “I’m definitely making you ride my face.” He says confidently with a smirk when you shoot him a glare, now raising your upper body to look at his face better.
“I’ll shut you up with my pussy if you don’t stop talking.” You say the words that come to your mind instantly without realising they seem to spur him further.
In a blink of an eye, he flips you over, pinning you on the bed with one hand planted next to your head. You can feel your chest purring as he tilts your chin with his fingers while his thumb goes stroking along your jawline.
His eyes darken dangerously, but you know that he still has control over his desire. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”
Maybe you should threaten him with a good time more often now.
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loafysainz · 2 days ago
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DONT GO DADDY | LN 4
lando norris!dad x reader!mom
no warn
hope you guys enjoy it!!
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Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.
The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.
Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.
Like right now.
Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.
“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”
Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”
Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”
Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”
And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.
“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”
Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”
Lando blinked. “Go where?”
Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”
Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”
Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.
And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.
“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.
Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”
They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.
“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”
Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”
Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”
Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”
Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”
After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.
That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.
She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.
Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.
She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.
Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.
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gracieheartspedro · 3 days ago
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Cherry Stems
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 3.1k
description: eddie rejects your advances because his friends are around. so you use them to your advantage. piss eddie off and maybe you'll get what you want. maybe.
warnings: MDNI! 18+ only pls, age not specified but i imagine eddie/reader are 20+, porn without much plot, major teasing, reader is a brat, mentions of eating food, reader has no food aversions, nicknames, reader is flirting with eddie's bandmates, jealousy, possessiveness, name calling, face grabbing, eddie is lowkey a dom, unprotected p in v, fingering (vaginal), oral fixation, eddie puts his fingers in your mouth a lot, reader gets off on being bullied, orgasm denial, cum play, cum eating.... think that's it.
author’s note: hi i wrote this in one night. i am a whore for eddie, what else can i say. i'm also down to take requests, so if you see this, hey, send me an ask. maybe i'll cave and do some. as always, thanks bestie girl @amanitacowboy for helping me with this. let's never forget how much of a whore we are for this man. it keeps me (in)sane <3
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Eddie had been teasing you all night and it was really starting to get to you. 
After a pretty electric performance at The Hideout, Eddie and his friends decided that they were hungry for some burgers from the empty Shiny Diner nearby. You had already had enough of Eddie’s shit at this point, so as soon as you sat next to him in the big half moon shaped booth, you knew it was game on. 
From eyeing you while he sang filthy lyrics from the stage, to the way he was working his hand up the hem of your dress when you sat at the bar, Eddie was truly being a menace. When the band got loud in the car on the way to the diner, you decided to make your move. You had rested your hand on Eddie’s crotch while sitting in the bucket seat next to him. While Eddie loved giving a good show, he was not keen on letting his friends see you in such a way. So he brushed your hand away and gave you the ‘not now’ eyes. 
You were for him and him only.
It aggravated you to no end, watching him rejoin the conversation with the guys, while you crossed your arms in disappointment.
But you were going to push some buttons tonight. You were going to get him back.
Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were all very sweet boys. Each of them have never been nothing but respectful of you. Gareth had known you longer than Eddie and he was actually the one who introduced you two. Jeff was usually a know-it-all, but he never dared question anything you said. And Grant… he was just quiet. Always following along with the antics and very well mannered. 
While you respected all the boys back, you also knew they found you attractive and that you could take advantage of that. After one specific smoke session together a couple months back, Eddie asked them all if they had a crush on you. He only ever said things like that to make them squirm. Teasing each other was the way they showed their love for one another. He also liked to remind people that they never stood a chance with you. And they all said that of course they found you pretty, but they would not dare go after you. 
Well, for one night only, you would give them believe they had a chance. Just to piss off Eddie. 
You had done this before. A year into your relationship, you had unintentionally made him jealous and it led to the most mind blowing sex of your life. The sex was so memorable that you do not even remember how you made him jealous. 
You needed that just about now. 
You were the only group there along with the waitress and line cook, so you were not worried about making a scene. You game plan how you were going to achieve such a feat as you scan the diner menu. You already knew what you wanted, but spotting the milkshakes on the list of drinks, a light bulb went off in your brain. 
The older waitress took down the boy’s order while you sat quietly staring at the menu. When it came down to you, you look up at the white haired woman and smiled. 
“One chocolate shake, extra whip cream and cherries, please.” You hand her the menu and glance over at a confused Eddie. You usually got a Dr. Pepper and a cheeseburger value meal, hold the lettuce. 
“Not hungry, baby?” He asks, reaching out for your black painted nails. You slide your hand away, acting like you are reaching for something in your purse. 
“Just wanna try something new.”
You pull your lipgloss out, still not looking over at Eddie. You twist off the top, placing the applicator on the middle of your bottom lip as your eyes flicker over to Grant’s. He is not paying much mind to anything, his eyes looking towards the window behind you. When he takes note of your gaze, he finally looks at you. 
You swipe the gloss across your lips, smirking devilishly. 
“What did you get, Grant?”
He thinks for a beat, realizing even he forgot what he ordered. “Uh… BLT with onion rings.”
You smack your lips together, rubbing your top lip on the bottom one painfully slow. 
“You gonna share your onion rings?”
He was not expecting the question, his lips curling upward before he chuckles. You can feel Eddie’s body stiffen as you ask the question. 
Grant nods, though, “Of course. You can have some-” “Baby, you’re not gonna eat his food.” You shoot a glare at Eddie, tossing your gloss back in your pocketbook. “Grant said I could, so… yeah I am.”
Eddie’s eyes search yours, trying to figure out what you are trying to do. You disguise your pleasure at his curiosity, rolling your eyes and pointing your attention at Jeff. He’s positioned right next to Grant, fiddling with his fingers. Before you can press him with a question, the waitress comes and puts down your drinks. She’s missing your milkshake. 
“That’ll be out in just a moment,” She says, grabbing her tray as she returns behind the counter, seemingly preparing your shake. You watch Jeff fiddle with his straw wrapper and you finally decide to bother him next. 
“Is that Dr. Pepper?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Jeff always got Dr. Pepper, just like you. It’s something you two bonded over often. He just nods, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage. You look over at the waitress quickly, seeing she’s still fiddling with the milkshake blender. 
You grab Jeff’s ice cold glass, your eyes glistening with innocence, “You mind if I have a sip? I’m parched.” And of course he’s too confused to say no. You pull the drink over and once it crosses to your side of the table, Eddie’s hand presses into your bare thigh. You do not react, taking Jeff’s straw into your mouth and sucking in a big sip, your eyes never leaving his. Once you pull the plastic away, you smirk. 
“Thanks, hun.” You push the drink back to him slowly. His cheeks heat up instantly when he notices your lipgloss on the tip of the straw. Eddie’s hand only squeezes more, trying to get you to look over at him. 
He wanted your attention so bad, his body curving closer to you. You can feel his gaze stuck onto the side of your face. 
Before anyone says anything else, the white haired lady returns with your chocolate shake. You giddedly grab the glass and stuff a straw into the frozen drink. 
You use your tongue to toy with the end of the straw, pulling it into your open mouth. Your eyes flicker away from Jeff and take aim at Gareth, who’s seated right across from you. Since he’s known you so long, you can already read on his face that he knows what you are up to. He may be a nice guy, but he too loves to fuck with Eddie. 
He was going to help you in whatever way possible. Instead of you initiating conversation, he speaks up. 
“Chocolate, huh? Thought you’d like vanilla.” Your eyebrow quirks up. You know Eddie’s face is bright red next to you. The heat radiating from him is pressing into your shoulder and thigh. 
“You got me pegged as a vanilla girl? That’s a bit offensive, Gare,” You smile, calculating your next move. You look down at the pile of whipped cream on the top of the shake. You drag your pointer finger across the top, gathering the cream all around it. 
You hear Eddie whispering beside you. “You better fuckin’ not.”
You smile, bringing your finger to your lips, not peeling your eyes from Gareth. You know the tension is palpable because Gareth’s smile is only widening when you lick the cream off your finger. 
The other guys are gawking at you at this point. You were putting on a show and they could not even fathom that it was happening before their very eyes. 
Gareth finally says something, nodding at the milkshake. “And extra cherries?”
“Gareth-,” Eddie’s voice fades over yours. 
“Oh yeah! You know I can tie the stems with my tongue?”
Eddie’s rings are going to be imprinted on your leg with how tightly he’s gripping onto you. You grab one of the cherries, getting your fingers covered in more whipped cream. You lean your head back a bit, your nose facing the old tile ceiling. You drop the cherry in your mouth, stem up. Tilting your head back, facing Gareth, you pull the cherry off the stem between your teeth. It’s unbelievably sensual the way you chew the red fruit. 
You show each of the boys the stem, even Eddie. When you glance over at him, you do not believe you have ever seen him so annoyed. He’s not hiding it well. You drop the stem on your tongue, returning your gaze over to Gareth. 
You roll the stem around, using your teeth slightly to do the stupid party trick you learned in 10th grade to impress a boy. It’s not impressive when every hot girl in school could do it, too. But nonetheless, it was something you could do to layer on the eroticism of the moment. 
When it’s tied, you contemplate taking it out of your mouth and showing it off. Maybe even drop it in Eddie’s hand. Instead, you decide to just extend your tongue out and show the stem on the very tip of your tongue. 
The color drains from Eddie’s face. It’s the end of the show for him. 
He grabs your forearm, ripping you out of the booth. You look back at Gareth, who’s still smiling, all the while Jeff and Grant look even more confused.  
When the fresh air hits you when he slams the glass door open, you flick your head to the side and spit out the stem in the gravel. His grip is so tight around your arm as he drags you to the van. It’s parked on the far side of the lot, occupying a spot that’s backed up to some woods. 
“What is wrong?”
Asking such a question only pisses him off further. Once you reach the van, his left hand flings the side door open. He practically tosses you onto the shag rug that lines the very back of the vehicle. 
“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” His voice is intimidatingly deep.
Your legs hang out while Eddie stands over you, his hand resting on the top of the van. The back of your knees feel the sting of the frayed metal that hinges the door shut. You swallow, contemplating if you should continue messing with him. With the way he’s looking at you, you felt that this was not going to lead to the jealous sex you two had before. He’s actually angry. 
“You pushed my hand away when I wanted you earlier.”
Your voice is so small and unsure. His eyes narrow at you, his mouth slightly ajar in complete disbelief. The silence hanging in the air makes your heart rate increase. 
His mouth closes and you watch his jaw clench, “So you flirt with my friends right in front of me? Even when I explicitly said you better not.”
With his free hand, he swats your bare leg as you squeeze your thighs together. “Answer me.”
You watch the red mark appear on your flesh and decide to keep playing into the game. You had nothing to lose. If he’s actually angry, you could always have amazing make up sex instead. Eddie could not stay mad at you for too long. 
You shake your head, lifting your chin up in defiance. “All I did was tie a cherry stem.”
He does not accept that answer, slapping your thigh harder this time. 
You knew then that you had him where you wanted him. His eyes were giving him away. His pupils dilated as soon as he realized that you did not yelp at him slapping you around. 
Your eyes widen, watching him jump into the van beside you and dragging you back further. He slams the door, rattling the hunk of metal. The only light being let in is from the front windshield. A hazy warm lit streetlight only lights up Eddie’s face as he’s pining you to the ground. 
He positions himself between your legs, pushing the back of your thighs up with his knees. The skirt you chose for the occasion was pretty flowy, so it slid up your hips as soon as he props you up. “You want to act like a whore in front of my friends? All ‘cause I slapped your hand away earlier?”
His voice does not even sound like his. You hear the jiggling of his belt as he asks you the question. But the more twisted Eddie was, the more aroused you felt. You were drawn to him the first moment he teased you and bullied you a bit. You got off on him being callous. 
“Words. Now.”
You look down between your legs and see his cock springing free from his boxers as he shoves them down his thighs. You groan, the pulsating at your core coinciding with your heart rate. “Wanted to get your attention.”
He smacks your inner thigh, painfully close to your pantyline. You moan at the action, propping yourself up a bit more on your elbows. You watch as he carefully drags his pointer and middle finger under the hem of your lace. He smirks to himself, “That’s not what I fuckin’ asked.”
His fingers dip under your underwear, gathering the slick between your folds. You throw your head back, unable to hold back the sob as he spreads you open. You were putty in his hands, always bending to him. “Yes, Eddie.”
Your response leads to him sliding his fingers inside your cunt, a wet squelching noise filling both your ears. Your back thuds against the rug as your muscles give out under his touch. He fucks you with his fingers, the look on his face unreadable. He usually takes his time with foreplay, but this was different. He was testing how far he could take you in a limited amount of time. You were in a parking lot with his friends less than 500 feet inside, he could not take his time torturing you. 
His fingers retract from your pussy, gripping onto the lace of your panties and tearing them down your legs. When he sits back on his heels, you watch his long cock bounce with his movements. It sends a smile across your face. When he zeros in on you again, he tilts his head to the side. 
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.”
It makes you giggle at first, unsure if he’s really being serious. But when his face does not twist up into a smirk like it usually did, you realize you were in trouble. He takes ahold of his dick, leaning forward onto you. Your mouth falls open as you study Eddie dragging his tip between your slit, gathering as much of your wetness as he could. 
He sinks into you, raising your hips a bit to meet him straight on. The stretch is always overwhelming for you at first. You and Eddie fucked at least three times a week, but he always made you cum before shoving his cock deep inside you. Stretching you out for a couple minutes with two fingers is not enough for you. He hisses when he pulls back, his hands grasping onto you for dear life. 
He wastes no time setting a bruising pace. There’s no build up, he is simply taking his annoyance out on you. You are reaching out to anything around you, trying to find something to hold onto as he rams into you. You find a sweatshirt nearby, squeezing it as tight as you can as you breathe out to relax your pelvic muscles.
“Eddie, please-” You try to say, throwing your head forward. He shifts your hips a bit more, opening you up wider. As he does that, he rakes his hands upward, pushing your skirt up higher to your belly button. He shakes your head to your pleas. 
“Eddie, please.” He mocks, relocating his hand to squeeze your cheeks together. When your jaw unhinges, Eddie inspects your tongue as he drills into you. “Put my fingers in your mouth.”
“Ed-”
He sandwiches your face harder, cutting you off from being able to say anything. He fills your mouth with the two fingers that were plunging inside of you earlier. The taste of your own arousal is still present on his fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits. You mewl as he grinds his pelvis into your clit. “Shut up,” he orders, his face centimeters from yours, “Now suck them while I fuck you.”
You have no way to talk back, so you do what he says. You hallow your cheeks out, lathering all your saliva around his fingers. The build up in the pit of your stomach only gets more intense when Eddie hoists your leg up over his shoulder. You clench around him, tears pricking your eyes as you vibrate his fingers with your moans. 
“Do not fuckin’ cum yet,” He warns, pulling his fingers in and out of your mouth. His hips are faltering as he chases his own climax. Your body feels like every nerve ending is about to implode under the pressure of you holding back your orgasm, and Eddie can sense that. He drags his fingers out from your lips, rubbing your own spit into your lips. He grabs your jaw with the same hand, pulling your face closer to his.
“Say you’re mine. You’re only gonna be mine.”
You nod, knocking his forehead slightly. “I’m only ever gonna be yours, Eddie.”
With your foreheads touching, you watch as he falls apart inside you. 
And with three vicious snaps of his hips, he spills his seed deep inside you. He does not let out a sound. His mouth is agape as deep heaves fan your face. 
When he finishes, he slides his cock out of you and sits back on his knees again. Him exiting your body is so frustrating, you want to scream.  
He uses one arm to hold your one leg back as spit covered fingers swipe up your cunt. His spend is leaking out of you and you know if he works his usual magic, you will cum in 30 seconds. 
“Please, Eddie. Please let me cum.”
He smirks villainously, “Why should I let you, hm?” He spreads your pussy lips, getting a good look as his cum dribbles down to your asshole.
You are getting desperate. You never had to beg Eddie to cum, ever. He was always so generous. 
“I promise I’ll be good. Please, please.” He chuckles dryly before sinking his fingers back into you. “Fine. Since you asked so pretty and promised to behave yourself.”
His fingers scissor into you, that familiar burn in the pit of your stomach returning. As his two fingers make work at your entrance, his thumb swipes your clit in meticulous circles. His bottom lip is tucked under his top teeth, watching you fall apart on his fingers. You are practically chanting his name as he brings you to your peak. 
When your chest heaves, finally relaxing from your orgasm, Eddie slides his digits out of you and brings them up to his plump pink lips. He licks them clean, just like you did with the whipped cream earlier. 
“Hm… Don’t see how Gareth thought you were a vanilla girl,” He states, smiling sinfully at you. “You, my dear, are a fuckin’ vixen.”
-
tags of friends who may like this idk (if you wanna be tagged in the future, just lemme know <3):
@hockeyhughes @pedgito @mediocredreams @the-unforgivenn
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amfstargirl · 2 days ago
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Yandere batfam x neglected reader
Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid, the house is white and the lawn is dead ⋆·˚ ༘ *
You stood firm on the ground, eyes stern and unwavering. In front of you was a place all too familiar—the "shelter" where you grew up, the house that had been your home for five years of your childhood. As you stood there, memories flooded your mind, both the happy ones and the melancholy ones. Your eyes roamed around the place, taking in every detail before you finally decided to enter, lest anyone mistake you for some kind of lunatic loitering outside someone's house.
As your feet mindlessly carried you into the room, a heavy, shaky sigh escaped your quivering lips. It hadn't even been five seconds since you entered, yet you already felt the urge to cry. Oh well, that's what memories do to you. You gently caressed the dirty white wall adorned with your old, fading doodles. Most of them were pink—your favorite color then and even now as an adult. You smiled sadly as the memories of your time in the house flooded back, making you nostalgic. You scoffed sarcastically at the irony that you missed this place more than the manor where you'd spent a longer time.
Perhaps it was because the old you—the innocent, sweet, and pure one—was still within these thin walls that had sheltered them through all the bad times. You could feel their giggles and laughter lingering in the air. Tears streamed down your face as you stared at every sticker, doodle, and writing spread across the walls. Somehow, you cried out of joy, relishing the fact that the child you left behind in this house was still here in some way. Still innocent, still unaware of the harm the world could do.
In the manor, all the love you ever knew came from the man who introduced himself as the family butler but whom you soon came to know as your father. He was the love you craved and begged for at Bruce's feet. He fed you, took care of you, and taught you the things you needed to know. He attended family days, PTA meetings, and other events that your biological father should have been at. Under Alfred's shelter, you did everything you could to try to level with your siblings' talents—learning acrobatics, martial arts, drawing, baking, and more.
Yet it was Alfred who, in the dead of night, under the whispers of the cold wind whipping past your teary face, assured you that you would never need any of those skills to truly earn your family's love. All you needed was to be yourself. You allowed yourself to believe his words and lived them as your truth for a short time, but soon gave up on the idea, accepting that they wouldn't truly see you.
Now, dwelling on your lingering past and memories outside the manor, you remembered those you knew before coming to live with them. You reminisced on the thought of your mother. You remembered her.
You remembered how poverty ate your mother away and that she couldn't provide necessary needs for you but you, sweet, beautiful, angel you never complained.
You remembered how much you loved those barbie shows and movies but couldn't afford the dvds and even a proper functioning television so you sometimes watched it from your window across your neighbors, and while watching you saw a glimpse of their life. Their happy, perfect family life. How they cuddled their daughter and watched those silly barbie movies together. Your eyes softened as you thought "I wanted that" the little you hoped that maybe one day momma will get better and finally love me. Your tears poured from your eyes at the thought.
You remembered while you were doing your homework alone, you heard a whimper outside your window near the alley. As you peeked your tiny head outside, your braids flowing with the cold, harsh wind, your eyes searching for the source of noise. As you let your gaze travel through every corner of the alley, you saw a dirty, poor puppy whimpering, alone, calling out for its mother, its father, anyone. You ran hastily outside and collected its tiny and fragile form gently in your arms. "I'm here, I'm okay, you're safe," you whispered softly to the creature. And from. That very day you fed it and kept it sheltered secretly from your mother. You named her Amara. It suited her. You didn't have much play mates so you sometimes play with her by the yard where you and her would either run together or lay down. You never really got to say goodbye to her. From "that" moment on, you never got to go back to your house. You wondered how she was. Was she well fed? Did she think you abandoned her? Does she miss you? The guilt of living her ate you up the longer you dwelt on the past. You shook your head and sighed, trying to forget about all of it. You mourned every version of you. And this was your most treasured one. Thinking back on all the memories you had of the old you, of her. You thanked them for being so forgiving, for being so brave, for being so content with what she had, and for never trading anything for it.
They Were such a kind soul. And you're glad that they gets to stay where they were the happiest despite the nightmare they endured those days. You will always look up to them. They were and will always be a part of you. You took one last look at the house, the drawings, the dirty corners of the room, and released a breath as you closed your eyes. This was it. You'll finally get to say goodbye-
Whimper
You froze as you heard a familiar whimper. You turned around and slowly walked towards the opened door, and you saw her. Amara, your friend. You can't help but let the tears fall as her once brown fluffy appearance is now old and grey. You wondered how even in the light of old age she somehow still seems so youthful. She was still your baby. With a shaky voice, you tested the name. "Amara...?" she wags her tail in delight as a response to the familiar name she's been waiting to be called for so many years. You kneeled down and gently caressed her. "Oh, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she whimpered as if answering you. You noticed her trying to catch her breath and her body growing weaker. You glance at her tail and see its wagging has become more frail and slow. You glance at your eyes, and you know. You smiled at her and whispered, "It's okay, baby. You can rest now." Her face weakly lit up, and she slowly closed her eyes, calm and loved, finally in your embrace.
After some time, you tenderly wrapped her body in a blanket. You carried her to the yard where you both used to play together as kids, a place where you ran freely without a care in the world. Borrowing a shovel from a tenant in the apartment, you buried her there, in the spot where you both were the happiest.
You whispered silent prayers for your companion and left with the memories. This was it. You've made your peace with the old you. Almost. There was one more thing you have to do.
You used believed that your mother could have been so much more. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, even if other would beg to disagree. But, you knew that she knew how to play her cards right to get what she desired for. She would have been so powerful if she used her sharp mind to something much more.. Productive. Yet she chose to sleep with men, abandon her daughter, and let herself be eaten by poverty and lust. Well, you didn't really mind if she abandoned you. You've always felt like you were the burden, the barrier to her way of succeeding and the chain locked onto her feet, keeping her from truly running away to what she has become. You've seen it in her eyes, the thought of running away and living a new life, but when she looks at you.. She saw a mistake she could never be freed of. A mistake. If only you weren't born, she would have been so happy.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink. "Ma'am?" the nurse asked. Suddenly, you were back to reality. You blinked again, processing her words. You glanced at her expectant expression and blurted out, "Y-yes, yes, uhm. Yeah. I'm ready." She smiled and said, "Great. Let's go this way, ma'am." You followed her hurriedly, not wanting to test her patience. As you walked, dissociating and thinking of all the possible outcomes, the nurse suddenly stopped in front of a room and said, "We're here. You can enter now." You nodded and thanked her silently.
Facing the door, you chanted in your mind, "You can do this," with a mix of determination and uncertainty. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and opened the door. There she was—your mother, in all her glory. Bare-faced and vulnerable in her comfy hospital gown. You almost choked on your saliva, seeing her this... bare. You had always seen her so filtered, her face adorned with colors, her clothes tight and bright. Awkwardly, you shifted in your place and slowly sat beside her bed as her gaze followed your every move. You cleared your throat, preparing to speak, but she beat you to it.
“I know you.” you widen your eyes at her as she continues “you're my child.” you weren't shocked at the fact that she acknowledged you but the fact that she called you Her child, and the softness in her eyes. You were starting to think that maybe this isn't your mother, because she never looked at you like that. Never in years of living together has she even glance at you.
She chuckled at the sight of your confused and shocked state, bringing you out of your thoughts. "What? Shocked? Of course, I still remember you, Y/n," she weakly said, her voice small and quite different from the harsh tone she used to yell at you with. You inhaled sharply, trying to stop your tears from falling. What the heck? Were you about to cry again?
"I thought with how much resentment you harbor for me, you would have forgotten about me by now," you smiled sadly at her, watching her face drop slightly but still smiling weakly.
"Oh, Y/n," you almost crumbled right then and there. Oh, how much you had longed to be called so sweetly by your mother's voice. "I never hated you... that much," she said bitterly, and you stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I just wasn't born to be a mother, no—at least not in this life. I'm a mess and I always will be. And I'm sorry I couldn't change for you because nothing can and nothing will change me anymore."
Your lips frowned at her words. "I always thought that maybe you could have been better without me," you said. You miss her, and you will always miss her. She was your whole world, but now seeing her and talking to her made you realize her world was clearly much different from yours. Her world was something one could not escape. You knew you couldn't live like that, and it seems that she cannot live any other way. They said that a mother and children exist as wretched mirrors of each other. You were all she could have been and she was all you might have been.
She closed the distance between you and embraced you for the first time. "You never were. It was me. I was the problem. You were just a child. In another life, I would've been able to care for you." You didn't question her on why she couldn't do it in this life because you knew. You knew she didn't have the capability to be a good mother and a morally good person now, and that was okay. You couldn't live with The fact that she will never truly care for you and will always hold secret animosity towards you if you force her to be a mother to you. You closed your eyes for a minute and silently took in the feeling of a mother's embrace for the first and last time.
"This is the last time you're ever gonna see me again," you said. Your mother chuckled bitterly and replied, "I know. Good for you, kid. Leave everything behind and start anew. You deserve it."
You soon moved out of her arms and held her hands tightly, looking into her eyes. With a deep exhale, you walked out of the hospital. This was it—you were finally free from your past. You had made your peace with it, and now it was time for you to move forward. You knew that if you didn't confront the horrors of your past, they would haunt you for the rest of your life. You had made a good choice.
As you stepped outside, the cool breeze greeted you, and you felt a sense of liberation wash over you. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was as if the universe itself was acknowledging your newfound freedom. You took a moment to breathe in the fresh air, savoring the feeling of lightness that now enveloped you. Walking down the street, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city seemed different somehow—brighter, more alive. You noticed the little things that you had overlooked before: the vibrant colors of the flowers in the park, the laughter of children playing, the distant hum of traffic. It was as if you were seeing the world with fresh eyes, unburdened by the weight of your past.
For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace. The past no longer held you captive. You were free to live your life, to pursue your passions, and to surround yourself with people who truly cared for you. It was the beginning of a new chapter. You get home to your apartment and sit at your couch grabbing some blankets and making hot cocoa. You thought to yourself that this is what you exactly needed. Watching barbie movies in your new cozy apartment without any burden past onto your shoulders, the little you would have been so proud, making you smile at the thought. This was it. Nothing was going to stop you now.
That's what you thought.
It has been 2 weeks since you've moved in your apartment and you're getting ready for your ballet rehearsal. You were especially excited about this as you were going to perform swan lake when you got to enact one of the most important and famous characters, how cool was that? As you were about to grab your pink bowed pointe shoes a sudden “ping!” notification was heard from your phone. You turned your head and went to grab it expecting a message from one of your close friends or even your ballet mates but all you were met with was a message from a person you least wanted a one from.
Dick. Your supposed older brother is asking you to hang out with him. At this very moment. You dropped your phone and stared at nothing while breathing heavily. You feel your heartbeat rapidly breathing, the knot in your stomach growing more tighter and tighter each minute you let the thought sink into your brain. You almost tripped at your foot as a result of your vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. This wasn't right, this wasn't supposed to happen. When-how?-why?! Why was this happening now? You were only starting to feel like everything in your life was finally starting to go your way. Why did this have to happen? It was as if the universe was mocking you. You bit your lips until it bled but you couldn't care less. You were numb. You hadn't even realized that you were nowate for today's rehearsals. With trembling hands you reached for your phone and shakily pressed the button “block” as you silently prayed that he-they would never come in contact with you ever again.
Of Course that wouldn't happen though. The universe was never really on your side.
Dick? What's happening here?
A sudden deep voice spoke, bringing Dick out of his deep trance. He turned around and saw his father standing outside the door, looking suspiciously at him. He stared at his father and saw the look on his face—full of confusion and unfamiliarity, not towards him but the room he was in. "I-it's Y/n," he stuttered, the name tasting so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to roll around in the scent of you. Was that weird? No—he just missed you, that's all.
"What about them?" Bruce's voice carried a nonchalance that almost made Dick angry. How could he be so indifferent about his precious sibling? With a hard voice, Dick replied, "They're gone." Bruce's eyes widened slightly at the response. What did he mean you were gone? You were just here when... Wait, when? He worriedly glanced at Dick, and as if understanding, Dick answered, "I know."
Bruce inhaled sharply and stepped inside the room, your lingering scent greeting him. Your trophies adorned the walls. This was your room? No, it couldn't be. This was too little. This was just... not it. The difference between his other childrens bedrooms and yours was so noticeable. You didn't have any fancy chandelier decorating yours. You didn't have your own bathroom.
Bruce's eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail. The neatly arranged trophies, the faded posters on the walls, and the small bed that seemed too empty now. He walked over to the desk and picked up a framed photo of you, when was this? You look so.. Grown? How old were you? Were you old enough to live alone? How come he didn't know? Did you have a job-were you even allowed to have one? he clenches his fist as he stares at the sight of your image and sees your bright smile. His heart ached at the sight. How had he missed this? How had he not noticed the signs?
Dick watched his father, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to scream, to demand why Bruce hadn't paid more attention, why he hadn't been there for you. But he knew he wasn't any better than his adoptive father was. Besides, it wouldn't change anything. The damage was done.
Bruce set the photo back down and turned to Dick, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He saw the tiny diary and other papers scattered across the floor and picked them up, reading them one by one as he slowly spiraled into regret and guilt. Dick watched as he knew this was going to make him understand. Today made it all clear to him. Why there was a nagging feeling inside of him saying that there was something missing in the manor. It was why the sweet muffled music of the orchestra haunted the manor, the same kind of music haunting their bedroom. Like it was a reminder, a warning. That something special was lost. The soothing sound of humming, light footsteps around the manor now gone. The pink bows tied around the handles of the stairs, the love that the plants receive now nowhere to be found. It was because you took that love with you.
"We need to find them," Bruce spoke, his voice steady but filled with urgency. His knees bounce as his Jaws tighten anxiously.
Dick nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "We'll find them," he replied, his voice firm. "And we'll make things right."
As they left the room, Bruce carrying the framed image of you tightly, almost as if he was paranoid that something would take it from him, and dick gently running his thumb through the texture of your pink, bowed, bright diary, the weight of their mission settled on their shoulders. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but they were determined to bring you back. The silence of the manor was a stark reminder of what they had lost, and they were ready to do whatever it took to make amends.
Bruce was anxious. He didn't have a plan. Ironic, because Batman always had a plan. It was an unspoken rule—Batman was always prepared. But now, he found himself at a loss, his mind racing with uncertainty. Perhaps it was because he knew every single person in Gotham. As the guardian of Lady Gotham, he prided himself on understanding the intricate web of connections and motives that defined the city's inhabitants. He calculated every person's actions, paid attention to every detail, and watched from the heart of Gotham.
He paid extensive attention to everyone... except you.
It wasn't intentional. He had always been consumed by the weight of his responsibilities, the never-ending battle against crime, and the need to protect the city. But now, standing in your room, surrounded by the remnants of your presence, he realized his failure. The irony of it all struck him—Batman, the meticulous planner, had overlooked the most important person in his life.
Now he was desperate, he may not have a plan but he was desperate. He'll do anything to get you back. Any possible way to get back all the times he failed you, when he failed to be a father to you. He swore to protect you and never let you out of his sight ever again.
Dick wasn't any better. As he walked, his thoughts played tricks on him, but in a way he almost relished. His mind insisted that you must be so scared without him, without your older brother to protect you. He didn't even consider the possibility that you could be an independent, fully functioning individual on your own, or the fact that you had grown and most likely abandoned the thought of "bonding" with him. In this moment, his mind was consumed by the image of you and the curiosity of what more you had within yourself that he had neglected. His anxiousness grew, causing him to bite his nails and run his hands through his hair in frustration. His breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was as if he had turned feral, his bloodshot blue eyes itching to be blessed with a vision of your face.
The more he thought about it, the more his mind played tricks on him. He imagined you scared and alone, wondering why your older brother wasn't there to protect you. He couldn't bear the thought of you suffering because of his neglect. His thoughts raced, each one more frantic than the last. What if you were hurt? What if you were in danger? What if you had given up on ever reconnecting with him?
The guilt gnawed at him, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had missed so many opportunities to be there for you. His heart ached at the thought of all the moments you had spent alone, craving the attention and love that he hadn't given.
As he continued to walk, his thoughts became more erratic. He imagined you thriving without him, having found your own path and your own sense of independence. The possibility that you no longer needed him stung, but it also filled him with a strange sense of pride. You had grown, despite everything, and that was something to be admired.
Still, his mind couldn't rest. He needed to see you, to know that you were okay. The uncertainty was driving him to the brink of madness. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists, determined to find you and make amends.
he wouldn't rest until he saw you again.
Both Bruce and Dick disregarded everything around them, unaware of the curious look Tim gave them. He followed quietly behind their backs, raising an eyebrow as he wondered why they hadn't noticed his presence yet. Normally, these two were incredibly guarded, so Tim was shocked by their lack of awareness. What could have made them so unfocused?
Bruce—the Batman—and Dick—the first Robin and now Nightwing—were both engrossed in a particular object. They seemed to be completely absorbed, their usual vigilance overshadowed by their intense fixation. Tim watched as Bruce's eyes remained glued to a framed photo on the desk, his expression a mix of regret and determination. Meanwhile, Dick's gaze was fixed on the pink notebook in his hands, his fingers gently tracing the glittery cover.
Tim couldn't help but wonder what was so important about these items that it made two of the most vigilant people he knew drop their guard. The framed photo of you, smiling brightly, seemed to hold Bruce in a trance, while the pink notebook, adorned with bows and glitters, seemed to capture all of Dick's attention. They were so consumed by these objects that they had let down the walls they had built through years of vigilantism.
It had to be something incredibly significant—something better yet, special.
“What are you two doing?” asked Tim, suddenly breaking the silence between the three of them as he watched the father and son duo flinch, obviously flabbergasted at his sudden interruption at their deep trance. He observed as their face turned from shock to going back to their frowning faces making him mirror the same expression. Dick clenches his jaw and exhales sharply preparing himself to speak when he is suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice he would always recognize.
"What is going on here?" a figure with deep forest-green eyes asked, standing tall in the shadows, his cold demeanor unwavering. Dick's eyes met his, and he said his name. "Damian. Wha—"
"You have deliberately abandoned your promise to train with me today. Why?" Damian's voice was sharp, full of accusation. Shoot. That was right. Dick had forgotten to train with his younger brother today. But it didn't matter now; his other sibling needed him, and it was about time they knew about them too. He glanced at Bruce's unfocused state, feral and restless.
"It's about Y/n," Dick said firmly.
Tim stood still for a moment, trying to figure out who "Y/n" was, while Damian immediately sneered at the mention of his "rival." He couldn't pinpoint why your presence angered him so much. Maybe it was because he had to share the title of being the Wayne heir with someone so... normal, someone so far below his level. You both were so different. Perhaps he was jealous of you for being so normal, for not having to worry about tainting your hands with blood and painting others black and blue. What did you even do? He didn't know, but he bet it was something a normal civilian would.
Meanwhile, his peripheral vision caught Tim standing still, deep in thought. Damian saw him processing quickly, his mind running fast as he tried to figure out who you were and why you were so relevant at the moment. Then suddenly—aha! Tim remembered now! You were the kid who had pestered him non-stop about some game.
Tim's eyes widened as he recalled the memory. The realization hit him like a wave. He had been so dismissive back then, but now he understood the significance. Guilt washed over him, mixing with curiosity and concern. What had happened to you? Why were you so important now?
Damian's sneer softened slightly, replaced with a look of contemplation. “What about them?” asked damian. While Tim wondered the same. Suddenly Bruce's cold and deep voice said “they're gone.” Damian raising an eyebrow of his response, and Tim answering “gone? Gone how?” switching his gaze from dick and Bruce's form awaiting for one of them to answer his question as the tension in the room thickens. “I mean that they're gone. All their things not found in their room, no trace of them not in the mansion, and not even a goodbye.” Tim and Damian frowned at the same time. Damian scoffed and thought you were probably just making a big scene so the attention would be on you. Bruce said “we need to find them. Now.” his voice left no choice for them to abide by his command.
Now alone in the CCTV room, Tim let his bored gaze wander over the footage from a long time ago, his palm supporting his head. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He watched as you sat, his fingers tapping the keyboard to increase the volume. You hummed lightly at the footage, a simple gesture but not to him. Your voice was so familiar to him. His eyes dilated as you continued humming, your voice sweet as honey, as light as a mother's touch trying to lull her baby to sleep.
He zoomed the footage closer and closer, almost as if he wanted to go through the screen just to hear your sweet, angelic, melancholic voice. Your voice was like a soft fur blanket to him. He didn't know if he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he swore you were covered by a soft light, hugging your form and kissing your skin gently.
Tim sat in your "presence" for a bit, soaking in your voice. As he listened, memories flooded back. He recalled distant muffled sounds within the thin walls, lulling him to sleep, chasing away the demons that kept him awake at night. He had so desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, and he remembered thinking maybe it was just a voice in his head, or maybe a real-life angel offering him salvation from suffering and the sweet pleasure of sleep. Now he knew, the angel was called "Y/n."
His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk as he leaned in closer, his breathing steadying as he watched the footage. The realization hit him hard. How had he missed this before? How had he not recognized that comforting voice? The gentle humming, the presence that had brought him solace on sleepless nights—it was all you.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch, his heart aching with a mix of regret and longing. He remembered the nights he had spent tormented by nightmares, the countless times he had struggled to find peace. Your voice had been his lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. How had he been so blind? How had he not seen the importance of your presence in the manor? Tim's thoughts spiraled as he recalled the moments he had dismissed you, the times he had been too wrapped up in his own world to notice you reaching out. He needed to see you. To hear your voice, to take you back, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness as his forehead kisses the cold, dirty floor, or to maybe steal you back without a word. He didn't know, he just had to see you.
The footage continued to play, your voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind. He sat there, never unwavering, always in awe of your voice and never taking his attention off you. He sat there,Unaware that he had been playing the same footage for hours and hours. His dilated eyes worshipping you as if you were a god.
He felt a deep sense of loss, realizing that you were gone, and he hadn't even had the chance to thank you for all the nights you had unknowingly saved him. Determined, he knew he had to find you. He had to make things right.
After some time, finally. Tim's resolve hardened as he stood up, his eyes never leaving the screen. He would find you, and he would make sure you knew how much you meant to him. With renewed purpose, he left the CCTV room, ready to join Bruce and Dick in their search. Together, they would bring you back and rebuild the bond that had been neglected for far too long.
With much focus on the object of his obsession attention, he failed to notice a tall figure in the shadows, watchin. Thinking after all these years they have finally come to their senses, realizing the greatest gift of all was right under their noses.
Damian was a dangerous person. To be fair, he was raised to be an assassin and an heir to the throne from the moment he was born. Not even a moment out of the womb did he catch a glimpse of the normal life he so desperately wanted. He trained day and night, month after month, year after year, to become the perfect product of the world's greatest detective and the daughter of the king of assassins. Imagine the inner turmoil within him when he didn't meet the expectations set upon his shoulders. All his life, all he knew was to fight. In any situation, his first instinct was to fight and guard himself for his life.
Sometimes, he wondered how they expected a child to lead thousands of assassins to create a bloodbath. Behind his pride and arrogance was a deep-seated anger towards those in charge of his fate. He was furious that his innocence had been stripped away, clawing its way back to him, but ultimately, they succeeded in giving him a future burdened with the weight of guilt for painting the young and innocent red.
Damian's upbringing left him with a constant battle within himself. The expectations placed upon him were immense, and he often felt like he was suffocating under the pressure. The relentless training, the unyielding discipline, and the need to prove himself consumed his every waking moment. The anger he felt was not just directed at those who shaped his fate but also at himself for not being able to escape it. Many didn't know of it but he found it hard to be Robin. The conflict between leaning to your instincts or “your- now- morals” was hard. To kill and to save was wrong and somehow to save and to forgive was right.
Despite his impressive skills and abilities, there was a part of him that longed for something more—something normal. He envied those who lived ordinary lives, free from the burden of bloodshed and violence. He wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood filled with laughter and innocence rather than combat and survival. As to why he wonders what more could you possibly want? He was so sure that you had so much wonderful time living such a luxurious life in the manor and never having to prove yourself to be worthy of something in being able to get the object of your desire. How could you run away from this life? From your life? You were so unfair, so selfish.
As he continued to grapple with these conflicting emotions, Damian's exterior remained cold and guarded. He rarely allowed anyone to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that yearned for a different life. But deep down, the scars of his past lingered, a constant reminder of the life he was forced into and the innocence that was stolen from him.
He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and released a heavy sigh. What a bother. Making his way to every corner of the manor to "inspect" and see if you had left any trace of yourself there. As he walked down the path, letting his bored state guide him, he glanced at the thick walls and noticed some unfamiliar works of art. His gaze roamed around the room, settling on various paintings he had never noticed before. It was as if the paintings spoke for themselves, screaming out for anyone to notice and appreciate them. The different textures, colors, shapes, and stories behind the art captivated him.
Damian liked to think that he noticed everything and had the ability to be highly aware of his surroundings, whether he was familiar with them or not. But at this moment, he paused, questioning himself. If he was truly aware, how had he managed to overlook these breathtaking canvases filled with bright colors that made him... feel things? He took a step forward and saw a tiny signature on the left side of one of the canvases. He brought his hand up to softly caress the painting, gently and carefully, as if he were afraid that a mere touch could destroy it.
Engrossed in admiring the paintings, he failed to notice the tall figure beside him. It was only when the man spoke, "Master Damian," addressing him, that he flinched slightly.
"Ah, Alfred. My apologies, I was a bit distracted by the art adorning the walls, which seems to be... unfamiliar to me. Would you mind telling me where my father keeps buying these paintings? I must say I'm quite... impressed."
Alfred frowned and smiled sadly at the youngest Wayne. "Well, Master Damian, these paintings are actually not your father's doing. Rather, they are Master Y/n's work of art."
Damian's eyes widened in surprise. He turned back to the paintings and said "Y/n did these?" he asked, almost incredulous. The realization that you had created such beautiful and meaningful art struck him deeply. He didn't even know that you could draw much less create such.. Beautiful art. While he was thinking about it he realize that he had complimented you, you!
"Indeed, Master Damian," Alfred confirmed. "Y/n spent countless hours creating these pieces. Each one holds a story, a piece of their heart."
Damian felt a pang of emotion through his chest, he couldn't pinpoint what it was but it was somehow nagging him about something, or rather someone. His fingers traced the brushstrokes with a newfound reverence, as if trying to understand the emotions you had captured on canvas.
"I never knew..." Damian whispered, more to himself than to Alfred. The layers of vibrant colors, the delicate details, and the raw emotions conveyed through your art were all a testament to the depth of your soul. He felt a connection to you that he hadn't realized before, a sense of camaraderie and understanding. And he was totally not dissing you just minutes ago.
Alfred placed a comforting hand on Damian's shoulder. "Art has a way of speaking to us, Master Damian. It reveals truths that words often cannot. Y/n's art is a reflection of their experiences, their joys, and their sorrows. It is a part of them that they have shared with the world."
Damian nodded, taking a step back to fully appreciate the entirety of your work. Your art had opened a door to a deeper connection, and he was willing to walk through it. He didn't know why but in a way this was proof that you had always had some kind of connection to him.
As Damian and Alfred stood there, surrounded by the masterpieces you had created, a sense of resolve settled over Damian. He frowns and takes a look around all the work of your art. His style doesn't differ much from yours. the caress of brush ever so slightly seen, and the emotions behind the soul of your paintings, like his. What made you so similar to him? And that, he will not know until he finds you.
He knew that finding you and bringing you back was not just about making amends—it was about recognizing and celebrating the unique and irreplaceable person you were.
Y/n considered themselves a keen observer, attuned to the delicate nuances of the world around them. They noticed the gentle yet sometimes harsh swaying of the wind as it danced with the leaves, creating a symphony of nature's whispers. They noticed the lady sitting on the park bench, quietly absorbing the view of the home she once grew up in, her memories interwoven with the present. They noticed the ducks by the pond, gracefully gliding through the water alongside their mother, a portrait of serene tranquility.
Y/n noticed everything, yet no one noticed them. And it was fine. They had long accepted this reality, enduring the loneliness of being invisible in a world where they saw so much. The weight of being unnoticed had become a familiar companion, a constant presence that shaped their existence. In the silent spaces between moments, Y/n found solace in their observations, finding beauty in the overlooked and meaning in the mundane.
So why were they just noticing you just now? Why? When you have just started to accept and move on. Why must they bring the horrors of the past when your current life is filled with hope arraying a new journey, now destroyed.
Why couldn’t Dick just let you be, drifting away in the silence you’d crafted? Why couldn’t he leave you to fade quietly, just as you had promised yourself you would, a ghost of your former self, untouched and unbothered? Yet there he was, an ever-present weight, his hands—rough, calloused, scarred by years of untold burdens—forcing your face into the past, as if his touch could rewrite history. His fingers dug into your skin, twisted into the soft contours of your face, tearing through the years of numbness, of denial, dragging you back to a place you had sworn you’d never return.
And then, Tim. Oh, Tim. The boy who once didn’t even see you, who barely even remembered your name when it lingered in the air of the manor. Now, he’s relentless, his fingers tapping into your phone with the same quiet insistence that his presence once had in the dark halls of that place you used to call home. You want to scream, to rip the silence apart, to do anything but feel what you’re feeling now—this suffocating pull to return to them, to face them, even when you know you never should have to again.
The ache swells, the lump in your throat is a tangible thing now, a choking presence you can’t swallow down. It’s the same searing pain that’s lingered, festering, hidden beneath layers of what you pretended was healing. How cruel it is, to have spent so much time trying to break free, only to find that some things, some people, are never quite done with you.
The ghost of them lingers, burrows deeper, with every unanswered message. They still haunt you, even from afar. You hate them for it, for still holding the power to break you open, to make you bleed from places you thought had long scarred over. It feels like a thousand wounds opening up again—slow, deliberate, bleeding you dry in a way you don’t know how to stop.
You stared blankly into the emptiness, feeling numb, when suddenly a hand rested on your shoulder. You flinched instinctively and turned to see who it was. Your eyes widened as you recognized your ballet teacher standing behind you. "Miss Kavinsky! I-I... Hi! I’m—" you stammered, but she quickly cut you off with a smile.
"Y/N L/N-Wayne, I know," she said with a warm tone. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."
You winced slightly, the sound barely audible, but Miss Kavinsky didn’t seem to notice. "Come on, let’s meet the other dancers. I’m sure they’re eager to meet you."
The surprise hit you hard, and you stuttered, "M-me?" You couldn’t help but feel like an idiot.
She grinned, a playful mix of amusement and mild disbelief on her face. "Yes, you. You're kind of a celebrity here, Wayne. Not surprised with a talent like yours."
Her words lingered in the air, but you went quiet, caught off guard by the compliment. You couldn’t fully process it, the idea of anyone looking up to you seemed so foreign, so distant. And somewhere in the haze, you barely registered the way she had called you "Wayne.”
As you and the other dancers gathered at the stage, a wave of anxiety washed over you. The weight of thoughts about Tim and Dick pressed heavily on your mind, and the pressure of the moment only made it worse. Just as your mind started to spiral, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Hey! You're Y/N, right? I'm Desiree, but you can just call me Des."
You forced a smile, barely hearing Miss Kavinsky as her voice faded into the background, announcing something about attendance. Your attention was now solely focused on Des, who had just broken the ice. You shook her hand and smiled more genuinely, the tension in your body loosening up a bit.
"Hi, Des. Yeah, you already know who I am. Nice to meet you."
You both exchanged a quiet laugh, and the chatter around you faded as you continued talking. For a moment, you felt like you could breathe again. You asked the usual questions: "How old are you?" "What's your favorite ballet?" The conversation flowed easily, but when your name was suddenly called for attendance, you were snapped back to reality.
"Here!" you called out, your voice getting lost in the sea of dancers.
But then Des said something that made you freeze.
"So, are you excited that both of you are here?" she asked with a playful giggle, her smile sweet and innocent.
You blinked, confused, but smiled through it. "Both of us...?" you repeated, trying to follow along.
Des chuckled softly at your puzzled expression. "You and your sister, silly! It must be so nice to perform together. My brother wouldn't even try to get into ballet, you know?"
Her words, lighthearted as they were, suddenly made your world feel like it was crashing down around you. You felt a cold panic begin to rise. Your fingers instinctively dug into your palms, almost drawing blood. Your smile wavered, barely holding on, while your eyes fluttered, teetering on the edge of tears. Des’s voice became distant, her words fading into a muffled blur as your thoughts spiraled out of control, bloodshot eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your heart raced, and the chaos inside you was too much to contain.
In that very moment, her name echoed through the air, sharp and clear. Without thinking, your gaze shifted, and you locked eyes with her. Her wide, unblinking stare pierced through the noise, anchoring you in place. For a fleeting second, you wondered if she had been watching you all along—since the instant your name was called, or perhaps even before. You couldn't be sure.
What you did know, however, was that the weight of her gaze felt like a force, pulling you into a quiet abyss. It made you feel small, fragile—as if you were prey beneath the steady, unyielding gaze of a predator. A shiver ran through you, and suddenly, all you wanted was to escape, to flee from the suffocating intensity of her eyes, which seemed to strip away every layer of protection you had left.
The fates were clearly playing with you now.
Cassandra was an exceptionally gifted individual, much like her siblings, each of whom possessed their own unique abilities. From the moment she first pursued ballet, her family showered her with unwavering love and support. She had access to training that most could only dream of—privileges afforded to her not because of her wealth, but because she was no ordinary person. She was Batgirl, the daughter of Batman by choice, a mantle she wore with pride. So, when an invitation arrived for her to join the prestigious Swan Lake performance alongside other top-tier dancers, it hardly came as a surprise. After all, excellence was something she had always embraced, both on the stage and off.
As she gets ready for her first rehearsal she can't help but notice that some of her siblings are missing. She shook it off and ate her food but also not abandoning the thought of asking about the absence of her siblings and father, to a familiar companion of their family:Alfred. As where Alfred only replies with them being busy about.. Something, yet said to her to fret not and just worry her mind about her ballet play, quickly chasing away her concerns for her family with a smile that made her feel lighthearted. With a chuckle she got up and made her way to the location of where the dancers were told to meet.
Cass had always believed she was the only one in her family who truly appreciated the delicate artistry of ballet. Her passion for the graceful movements, the precision of each step, and the beauty of the performances had always felt like a private world to her, a world she inhabited alone. She couldn’t recall a single moment where anyone in her family shared even the slightest interest in it. So, when she entered the crowded theater that evening, expecting to be surrounded only by fellow ballet enthusiasts, she was taken aback by something unexpected.
Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, she spotted you. For a fleeting moment, her heart skipped a beat, not from the rush of seeing someone in the crowd, but from an overwhelming sense of familiarity that washed over her. There you were, standing like a ghost from a forgotten past, an unexplainable connection sparking between you both. Cass couldn’t place it, but it was as though she had known you forever, even though your paths had never crossed before.
Her mind wandered, replaying the memories that had been buried deep within her. A distant image flashed across her thoughts: she was standing in a room filled with soft, pastel-colored fabrics, the scent of leather and polish hanging in the air. Two pairs of pointe shoes rested beside one another on the floor—one was familiar, worn and well-loved, the other brand new, the laces still fresh and untangled. The second pair, the one that felt entirely foreign, immediately piqued her curiosity. She was certain it wasn’t hers, yet the connection to it lingered, something so subtle but undeniable.
The realization hit her like a wave. She didn’t know you, not consciously, but somehow she felt bound to you, as if fate had woven your lives together in some strange, invisible thread long before either of you had even been aware of it.
The entire day she watched and observed you. She paid extra attention to every detail of your expressions, body language, and posture. She didn't know why but you seemed to be very clear–in her case, in distress, like you were panicking over something. And she didn't know why she somehow hated seeing you that way. As the minutes passed, she found herself simply just staring at you. Not even for a fleeting moment had she taken her gaze of you. She watched and observed tensely at every person who looks at you, who talks to you, who breathes near you. Almost as if she was guarding you. As they were told to gather she followed silently after the crowd and placed herself purposely in front of the other side from you. She scoffs in amusement as you barely notice her, too focused on your own little world. As minutes continued to pass, suddenly a girl broke you out of her thoughts with her voice making you flinch. Her breath hitched as irritation started to crawl their way through her chest. Why couldn't the girl be more gentle with you? Can't she see that you were clearly stressed? She frowns slightly at the girl, surprising herself by the sudden change of mood. She holds her breath and watches you like a hawk would at its prey. Her vision was filled with your now loosen frame, giggling with the girl who approached you earlier. A new feeling started to claw its way through her chest, now bigger and stronger. The green monster eating her up when suddenly the call of her voice brought her out of her thoughts as she, for a moment took her eyes off of you to answer quietly to her name and as she bring back her gaze to you, quickly to not miss anything she might take the pleasure in seeing, suddenly your eyes are on her too. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of your gaze who held such horror in them, as if seeing her was too much for you. As she was your living nightmare sitting right in front of you.
The remaining time the dancers practiced, you avoided her gaze and her presence. The more you avoided her, the more she itched to be in your presence alone, to be near you. The whole time at the practice she was, for the first time, distracted. Her thoughts are consumed by you. Her thoughts came up with every question she could ask about her and your current situation. What were you doing here? Why didn't she know? Were you at the manor? No, if you were she would've known.. Right? Okay if you weren't, then why weren't you? Those questions alone made her uneasy and frustrated. As it was time to go home, she watched as you hurriedly got out and quickly went home to wherever your home was. The nagging feeling screamed at her to follow you but decided against it and thought that going home and bringing the news to her family might help more. After all, they were stronger together.
She stormed into the manor, urgency in her every step, and sought out Alfred with a single, breathless demand: "Boys. Where?" Without hesitation, he led her to them. Her gaze fell upon them, intense and unyielding, her pupils trembling with an unspoken storm. She whispered a single name, a breathless, haunting utterance: "Y/N." The boys, in unison, responded, "We know."
A deep breath escaped her, the weight of their actions—venturing after you without so much as a word—forgotten for the moment. She snatched a laptop, her fingers flying over the keys in a frantic dance of their own. The screen flickered to life, revealing a video that stole the breath from the room. There you were, dancing—each movement a testament to grace, each step more captivating than the last.
The world had already fallen under your spell. The internet buzzed with adoration, praising the way your every turn, every leap, every pause held the audience in thrall. Under the stage lights, you seemed more than human—a celestial being, your form bathed in soft light, glowing like an ethereal angel, kissed by the very air around you. The boys stood frozen, their gaze fixed upon you, entranced.
Your presence was no illusion. You were a goddess of their own making, and in that moment, they knew: they were already devoted, bound by the silent understanding that they would worship you, body and soul.
As the video played, the room fell into a hushed reverence. The boys, once brimming with urgency and tension, now stood motionless, their eyes locked onto the screen, as if spellbound. Every fluid movement you made seemed to breathe life into the very air around them. They couldn’t look away; they didn’t want to. Your every step, every pirouette, was poetry in motion, a delicate balance of strength and grace that made their hearts race.
The way you arched your back mid-spin, the soft brush of your fingertips against your skin, the quiet breath you took before every leap—it all drew them in, slowly, methodically, as though they were witnessing something far beyond the ordinary. Each turn of your body mirrored the very rhythm of their own hearts, synchronized with the ethereal pulse of the music, and they couldn’t help but feel as if the entire world had narrowed down to this one sacred moment.
Your eyes, though focused on the stage, seemed to flicker with a spark of something far deeper, something they couldn't quite place but could almost taste. It was like watching a dream unfold, where every movement became a metaphor—each glide across the stage spoke to something eternal, something untouchable. They found themselves lost in the elegance of your form, the way your body seemed to move with a natural fluidity that defied the laws of physics.
The lights above you softened, caressing your silhouette, painting you in a divine glow. And in that moment, they felt small, insignificant even, as if you had been carved out of stardust itself, too perfect to comprehend, yet impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just the skill of your dance—it was your presence, your essence that held them captive.
They felt an almost primal pull, as though your every movement was speaking directly to their souls. The way your body spoke without words—your elegance and power blending seamlessly—rendered them speechless. They were entranced by the aura you carried, intoxicated by your beauty and the mystery you exuded, a beauty that wasn’t merely skin-deep but radiated from within, a force of nature.
For a fleeting moment, they could almost believe that you were more than human, that you were something higher, something divine. They stood there, wide-eyed and breathless, as if they had been granted a glimpse of something sacred—something that no one else could understand. And in that moment, they knew that they would follow you, worship you, in a devotion that transcended mere admiration. You weren’t just captivating; you were everything. They couldn't believe that someone like you had been overlooked by then.
Bruce now understands that with no plan in mind he would still follow you till the end of the earth. Oh his little baby. He would do anything to earn your love and affection for him. To see you and to bask under the ray of sunshine your smile brings. To feel your presence alone.
Dick now understands that he owes you more than a few dinners or dates as siblings. No. He owes you the world. As guilt eats his flesh up one by one, mourning all the versions of you that he could have witnessed right before his eyes are now long gone. But that's okay, he'll make it up to you.
Tim now understands that you were surely his angel. His savior. His form of salvation. He could watch you all day and never get bored. He could listen to you all day until his ears bled but never say a word.
Damian now understands that the disbelief he felt when looking at your paintings full of emotions overflowing with a sense of overwhelming feel, was now long gone because he knew that only such being like you, almost like a supernatural being, could be the only one who has the ability to capture such deep emotions in one painting, to be able to create such beautiful, breathtaking object.
Cassandra now understands why she felt like she somehow had a connection to you and that was because she was your sister. And as she was a daughter to batman by choice, that she will also be a sister by choice to you. She was an observer, someone who guards-and she will guard you with her life for all eternity.
As the overwhelming tension fills the room Alfred stands at the corner with a small smile. “apologies master y/n had I done this sooner, you would have not slipped through my grasp dear child. Do not fret for your family is coming to get you.”
Ah, Alfred, the mastermind. He knew this would happen. He just needed to intertwine a little. He did not worry because he knew. He knew that leaving your bedroom door open the moment he knew Dick was coming over to the manor while the others were busy, and knowing Dick's tendency to wander off in the vast expanse of Wayne Manor, the chances of him finding your room were high. He knew that rearranging your trophies inside your room (which you had told him to get rid of) would pique the interest of your family even more. He knew that decorating your hidden paintings around the minimalist and empty walls of the house would catch the attention of the youngest Wayne. He knew that playing those soft melodies of your voice through the small TV in the kitchen would enchant a certain sleep-deprived boy, making him miss the sweet sound of your voice.
Alfred knew that when Cassandra was called for the big ballet play, you would be at the same play too, as you had told him over the phone, giggling and excited with a high-pitched voice. He didn't bother to tell you about your sister's similar invitation, nor did he inform your sister about yours. He knew every single detail, every thread that needed to be woven together to create this intricate tapestry of reconnection.
Alfred's wisdom was like a silent symphony, orchestrating events with a delicate touch. He understood the nuances of each family member, their strengths, their weaknesses, and their desires. He knew that Dick's curiosity would lead him to your room, where the trophies would spark memories and questions. He knew that Damian's keen eye for detail would be drawn to the vibrant paintings, each brushstroke a testament to your hidden talents. He knew that Tim, in his sleep-deprived state, would be captivated by the melodies of your voice, a soothing balm to his restless mind.
Alfred's heart ached with the knowledge of your absence, but he also held hope. Hope that these carefully placed breadcrumbs would lead your family back to you, to the realization of what they had lost and the determination to make amends. He knew that the path to reconciliation was not an easy one, but it was a journey worth taking.
As the days passed, Alfred watched with a knowing smile as the pieces began to fall into place. He saw the flicker of recognition in Dick's eyes, the softening of Damian's demeanor, and the spark of determination in Tim's gaze. He knew that the seeds he had planted were beginning to grow, and soon, the family would be whole again.
Alfred was getting old and he couldn't bare the vision of his children Bruce and you, drifting away from each other, and you from him. Maybe it was his own selfish reason but he couldn't help it. He raised you from the moment you got to the manor. Teached you everything he knew and gave you all the love he could. He watched you grew up and maybe it was a moment of rush that he allowed himself to be selfish and turn the tables around.
In the quiet moments, Alfred allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought of you, the child who had brought so much light into his life. He knew that you deserved to be seen, to be cherished, and to be loved. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that you found your way back to the family that needed you just as much as you needed them.
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Authors note: I'm sorry I took so long in writing this! I hope yall enjoy the 10k+ words I wrote. One tip tho is to read and observe the details very carefully! Dw I'm gonna explain it soon tho. Hope yall enjoy this cuz imma take a break after this.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 day ago
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What if They were Dads?
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SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?
CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)
TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)
WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.
COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.
Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.
I hope you enjoy 🩵
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CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.
By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)
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Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father
Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.
In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.
He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.
Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.
He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.
Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.
Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.
Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.
Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.
Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.
Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.
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Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad
Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.
Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.
No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.
Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.
Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.
You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.
He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.
He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.
If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.
He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.
Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.
They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.
Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.
Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.
Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.
Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.
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Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.
Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)
Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.
He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.
He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.
And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.
You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.
From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.
Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.
Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.
If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.
Azul loves cooking for you and your child, and they love their father's cooking.
You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.
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Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)
Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.
The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.
There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.
He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.
He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.
During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.
His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”
Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.
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Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father 
Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.
With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.
He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.
Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.
If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.
His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.
Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."
Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.
When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.
Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.
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Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)
Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.
In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.
Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No” if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.
If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.
Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.
Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.
Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.
Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.
Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.
Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.
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Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)
The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!
Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.
The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.
What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!
In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.
Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”
Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.
Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”
Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.
This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.
Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.
Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.
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covenofagatha · 3 days ago
Text
Practice makes perfect
Agatha makes you build up your stamina until she actually lets you fuck her
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: g!p reader, virgin!reader, sex, age gap, fleshlight, degradation, humiliation kink, Agatha is MEAN and reader very much gets off on it, premature ejaculation, masturbation, reader is a walking HR violation, cumming in pants
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When Agatha Harkness finds out you’re a virgin, she actually laughs. 
You’re a junior in college interning at your dad’s multi-billion dollar company over the summer, a nepo-baby at its finest, and so what if you have the hots for the general counsel? So what if you get hard every single time she even looks in your direction? 
You try to flirt with her, you’re as bold as you can be without her going straight to HR, and yet she barely even gives you the time of day. Deep down, you can tell she likes you though. She humors you and doesn’t tell you to shut up whenever you start to talk, so that must mean something. The two of you have formed quite the relationship since the summer started, with you saying the filthiest things to her and her brushing them off as if they were casual anecdotes. 
“I’d make you feel so good, Agatha,” you tell her one day. “I’ll fill you up so nicely.”
It might be pushing the limits — it’s your third pathetic attempt this day at getting her to reciprocate, but she’s used to it by now; it hardly even fazes her. Everyone in the office knows that their boss’s daughter has a cock, and they also know that their boss’s daughter has a filthy mouth, always saying something vulgar and sarcastic. No one takes anything that comes from your lips as serious. You’ve been called a spoiled, entitled, rich bitch, told that you’re heartless for not giving a damn about anything, expelled from three high schools for the explicit jokes that you make.
But your “jokes” to Agatha are the only thing you’re serious about. 
She scoffs and rolls her eyes; at twenty-five years your senior, she has had plenty of experience with girls that promise her the world and barely deliver on any said promises made. “I’m not some quick college lay that lets you rub my upper thigh and pretends that you’ve found my clit, you know.” 
It’s your turn to scowl. “Who do you think I am?” you ask and she fixes you with a pointed glare from behind her desk. “I know where the clit is.” 
“How many women have you actually satisfied?” she asks and your cheeks heat up. You figured it would come up eventually, but now you don’t actually want to answer. You duck your head and Agatha makes a noise, not exactly surprised, but almost disappointed. “You think I’m going to let a virgin fuck me? You probably wouldn’t even last two seconds inside me.”
“Hey, I’d last longer than that,” you snap, your head shooting back up to look at her incredulously. You can feel a slight stirring in your lower stomach at the thought of blowing your load the instant she gets inside you and how she would most definitely mock you for it. 
Agatha raises an eyebrow and chuckles cruelly. “Honey, please. Go back to your desk and get your work done. I’m definitely not having sex with someone who can’t finish reading over a simple contract.” 
“Ha ha,” you deadpan, and she makes a face at you before you get up out of the chair in front of her desk you were lounging in. “Might have to go to the bathroom real quick and jerk one off though.” 
She crinkles her nose and waves her hand at you dismissively and you think that you’ve just blown all your chances with her. She’s definitely not going to want to fuck you now. There is some speculation floating around about your lack of experience and that’s why you overcompensate with the explicit things you say — libel you tell them, but deep down it’s accurate — and if Agatha, who has certainly had her fair share of partners, knows it’s real, then she for sure won’t waste her time with you. 
So you go back to your desk and begrudgingly get all your work done, emailing Agatha your thoughts about the contracts when you’re all done. She sends back a Very good job, y/n and you hate to admit that it gets you hard. You’d like nothing more than to go fuck yourself in the restroom but you stay at your cubicle until Agatha walks by so you can see her before she leaves for the day. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you call after her as she breezes by your desk without saying a word. It’s the last day of the third fiscal quarter today, and as a reward, tomorrow your dad is bringing his executive staff to your beach house in The Hamptons for a week. Because you’re part of the family, you get to attend, but none of the other interns do. 
It’s been this way since you were little, but only recently did you start to notice how attractive Agatha was. The way she takes absolutely no shit from anyone, even from your dad. The way she coolly holds her ground in the face of IRS audits, FBI raids, and anything else that got thrown at her. The way she raises an eyebrow at you when you say something stupid and it makes your cock hard in seconds. Everything about her drives you fucking wild. 
Agatha lifts a hand up in response, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at you, and your pants tighten almost uncomfortably. 
The second you get back to your apartment, you undo your belt and unzip your pants, reaching inside to take out your hard and leaking cock. Your hips thrust forward at the warmth from your hand and you gasp, the pleasure already dizzying. You think about Agatha on her knees in front of you, looking up at you through her glasses, telling you that you’re just a pathetic slut who will never be able to make her feel good. 
It takes three strokes of your hand before you grunt and your cock pumps out three long spurts of cum all over the kitchen counter. You grab a paper towel, dampen it, and then wipe up your mess before going to take a shower. 
You might have a serious problem. 
And it’s only going to get worse this week. An entire seven days where you’re going to be around her. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’re going to be hard for most of it. Is there a record for the most times a person has cum in a day? Because you think you might break it. 
That night, you have a dream about Agatha, as many of your dreams are. She’s sitting in a chair right by the bed, legs outstretched and open and her feet are resting on the duvet. You’re laying stomach-down, cock hard between your body and the covers, mouth watering. Agatha is completely naked, her cunt glistening, and the dream is so realistic that you can smell her. She laughs when you groan pitifully. 
Then she buries two fingers inside her and your hips lurch against the bed, gasping at the stimulation on your cock. 
“Look at you, humping the bed like a bitch in heat,” she snarls and your rhythm stutters. You garble out something incoherently and she laughs before rubbing her clit with her other hand. “Can’t even fuck me right, so I have to do it myself.” 
You moan loudly, grinding against the bed furiously, and she picks up her thrusts to match your face. “I can, please, I want to,” you beg before she cums all over her fingers. She pulls them out of her and then slides them into your mouth and you cum all over the bed and your stomach. 
When you jerk awake right after that, the first thing you notice is how sticky you are. You must have cum in your underwear from just your dream and it’s just further evidence of how completely fucked you are for the next week. 
There will certainly be no swimming for you because you don’t need the entire executive board and your father knowing that you’re getting hard for the forty-six year old general counsel. 
But fuck, Agatha in a swim suit — 
You cut yourself off from the thought because you don’t have enough time to get worked up again. 
Good thing too, because by the time you do get yourself all cleaned up from your little nighttime accident, you have to leave to get to the helicopters. 
There’s no sign of Agatha yet so you make awkward small talk with Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, because you have nothing better to do. She’s new and attractive, but no one gets your cock stirring like Agatha. You wonder if it’s the fact that she’s older and it taps into your mommy issues, or the fact that she can cut you down with a simple sentence and you’ve found that you have a huge thing for degradation, or the fact that she’s never going to let you touch her no matter how hard you beg. 
She drives you crazy and you fucking need her. 
Finally, Agatha pulls up in a company car and gets out, wearing a gray pantsuit, and you already feel your face heating up. She gets into one of the two helicopters without even looking at you and you make a beeline for it before your dad stops you and pulls you into the other one. You can’t exactly tell him that you want to be next to his general counsel, so you grumble to yourself before agreeing. 
It takes only about forty-five minutes to get to the house and the next hour is full of unpacking and the wait staff running around, trying to get everyone everything they need. 
Lunch is served and everyone gathers in the dining room except for Agatha, so you excuse yourself and try to go find her. 
You’re just “happening” to be walking by her room when she opens the door to step out, almost bumping into you. 
“Your quick solo session take a bit too long?” you ask crassly, delighting in the way her eyes roll exasperatedly. “Next time, give me a call and I’ll get you there quickly.”
She starts walking to the dining room, leaving you behind so you have to speed to catch up. “If I ever want someone to cum after three pumps inside me and leave me even more unsatisfied than I was before, I’ll make sure to let you know.”
“Hey, I’d lay you badly, but I’d lay you gladly,” you say as seductively as possible and she snorts. “Come on, you gotta admit you’ve at least thought about it.” 
Agatha spares you a glance. “When I’m trying not to cum. It’s a real turn-off for me personally.”
You also love how she gives as good as she gets. “Please?” you ask, whine, beg. “I’ll be so good for you — I’ll make you feel so good.”
She sniffs and rakes her eyes over your body, pausing at the outline of your cock through your pants. Before you even realize what’s happening, she’s pushed you against the wall and her hand cups your cock and you gasp while bucking into her touch. 
“Really?” Agatha chuckles. You make a muffled sound and try to grind up and she rubs her palm against you, making you throb. “You think you could make me feel good with your cock that’s already about to cum for me?” 
“Yes,” you choke out and she squeezes harder. You’re panting open-mouthed now, trying so hard to hold back from your release. 
She is completely unaffected as she leans in to whisper, “You’re so fucking pathetic,” into your ear and you whimper, your stomach twists, and your cock pulses before pumping loads of cum into your pants. You chant swears under your breath while you cling to her arms for dear life and she watches amusedly as a stain spreads on your pants. 
You’ve never been more of a mess in your life and she just smirks smugly before giving your cock a patronizing pat. 
“I’ll tell your dad you’ll be a little late to lunch.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely agape against the wall, cock still twitching in your pants. 
It’s hard to make eye contact with her the rest of the day without heat flushing through your cheeks and the memory of what she did to you making your cock stir. 
The second you can escape after dinner, you do. You fully intend on spending the rest of the night fucking yourself silly and trying to rid your brain of Agatha.
But around ten, there’s a knock on your door and you swing it open to find Agatha standing there in silk, navy pajamas and black glasses. Your jaw drops open and she brushes right past you to walk into your room and tosses something on the bed. 
A fleshlight. 
“What—” you start to say, but you can’t even finish your question because all the blood in your brain has rushed down to your cock in record time. 
Agatha turns to face you, hands on her hips, lips pursed. “Show me that you can last five minutes with it—” nods at the toy, “—and we’ll see about me letting your cock anywhere close to me.” 
Your breaths come out staggered and you stumble over to the bed, head spinning. There’s no way this is actually happening. You shove down your sweatpants and boxers and your cock bobs up, rigid and hard and leaking copious amounts of precum. 
“God, already?” she snorts and your cock twitches. “You’re so fucking desperate, aren’t you?” 
A muffled whimper escapes your lips and you give yourself a quick stroke. “Fuck.” You reach for the fleshlight, heat completely overwhelming your body, but she stops you first. 
“Spit on yourself,” she orders and you watch her with wide and pleading eyes as a strand of saliva drops from your mouth onto your cock. You feel like you’re in a trance as you spread it out along your length, the wetness of your spit and precum coating your cock and making it glisten in no time. “Fucking pathetic.” 
Her jeers only make you harder and this time, she doesn’t object when you grab the toy. You think you can hear her sharply inhale when you drag your cock against the fake pussy lips and you already know there’s no fucking way you’re going to last one minute, let alone five. 
“Wanna fuck you like this,” you babble before pushing your tip in and instantly freezing at the silicone ridges squeezing around you. You sigh heavily before your breathing quickens and you’re practically panting by the time you get your entire cock inside the fleshlight. 
Agatha’s face is unreadable. “I’m impressed you made it in,” she says, coldly and completely dry, and it makes you thrust into it. It feels so good, even though it’s just a cold, plastic toy and you can only imagine how the real thing would feel. “Well, get on with it. Chop chop, honey. I haven’t got all night to watch your sorry attempt at proving you can fuck me.” 
You grunt and start moving your cock in and out of the toy, whines falling out of you, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on not cumming too soon. You want to last — you need to last for her, because she might actually let you touch her if you. 
“Ah ah,” she tuts and your cock throbs. “Open your eyes.” 
You obey, and the moment you see her, see the slight redness of her cheeks, you know you fucked up. 
With a loud grunt, you cum in the toy, filling it with so much of your seed that it spills out of the fake cunt and drips onto the floor as you continue snapping your hips up. 
Agatha laughs and walks straight to the door. “Not even thirty seconds. Maybe next time.” 
You are absolutely fucked. 
The next night, you’re almost to two minutes while desperately trying to think of anything else other than Agatha standing right there. She’s watching intently, like she’s studying your technique and critiquing it in her head, and you’re doing really well — you think you might actually have a chance to get to five. The secret is thinking about all the boring contracts you had to read this summer to keep your mind off the overwhelming pleasure you’re getting from the toy.
But then Agatha steps closer to you, runs a finger over your lips and down to cup your breast, and says, “God, you really are just a baby, aren’t you?” so sickly sweet. 
It makes you curse before filling the toy up again, your body completely betraying you. 
“That wasn’t fucking fair,” you try to argue. 
She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, honey,” she coos and it’s so fucking condescending. Your cock twitches inside the toy. “It’s not my fault you’re so pathetic you can’t control yourself.”
“Yes, it is,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. 
“We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe you should cum before I get here so you might have a chance at lasting for five minutes,” she taunts and you’re too embarrassed to tell her that you already got off before she came tonight. Clearly it did not work. 
You figure that maybe you just need to cum more throughout the day to build up some stamina. You fuck yourself with the fleshlight in the morning after you wake up with morning wood because surprise, surprise: you had another dream about Agatha. When she takes a sip of her orange juice at breakfast, eyes flicking up to meet yours as she sucks on the straw, you have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and it only takes you about six strokes before you’re cumming all over your hand. It’s a long day of lounging around the pool and hushed conversations, and the moment Agatha steps out onto the desk in a sensible one-piece, you have to wrap a towel around your waist so no one sees your erection through your swim trunks to run back to your room, hastily saying that you forgot sunscreen. You cum into the fleshlight in about three minutes. 
And about thirty minutes before she shows up to your room at 10 pm on the dot, you have another quick session with your hand. 
You are absolutely determined tonight. 
When she strolls in through the door, the air is different. She’s carrying a glass of Scotch and you snatch it as she walks past you, downing the rest in one sip. 
“Are you even old enough to drink?” she asks, eyebrow raised and giving you a once over. 
You laugh sarcastically before setting the cup down on the nightstand and tearing your shirt off over your head, not missing the way her gaze flicks down to your nipples. Usually, you just take your boxers off, but tonight, you want her to see all of you. 
“A little arrogant, hm?” 
Nodding your head, you spit onto your cock and stroke it to full hardness. This is also the first time you haven’t had a raging erection the second she arrived. Before she can say anything, you’ve grabbed the fleshlight and started thrusting your cock into it. It feels good, but you’ve become so desensitized to it, just from today, that you’re feeling more confident than ever. 
Agatha realizes this, sees it on your face. “Wow, look at my slut,” she croones. “She finally learned how to fuck herself. Doesn’t mean you can fuck someone else though. I bet the moment you get inside me, you’ll cum because you’re too fucking pathetic to actually make me feel good.” 
The degradation goes straight to your cock and you grunt, pausing for a second before resuming. The smirk on her face is as frustrating as it is hot and only makes it harder to think clearly. 
“You’re just a worthless little whore, aren’t you?” she snarls and your breaths become shallow and your thrusts become more like quick ruts into the toy. 
“Yes, fuck,” you moan quietly, tightly, and god she’s not playing fair at all. The toy is squeezing you so hard and it’s becoming tougher to keep fucking it, but the prize of getting to be inside Agatha is so close if you can just hang on. 
She scoffs sharply but you can see the heat on her face. Fuck. She likes this. “How are you not absolutely humiliated by yourself and how desperate you are?” she says, getting meaner, and precum is leaking out of the toy each time you drive your cock back into the toy. If you weren’t actively using all of your effort to keep from cumming, you think you would’ve filled up the fleshlight at least three times by now. Agatha is trying so hard to break you, but you refuse. 
The most excruciating five minutes of your life finally end, and you are so fucking triumphant. “We had a deal,” you remind her hoarsely. 
“Stop acting like lasting five minutes is an accomplishment,” she scorns and you have to pull the toy off your aching erection or you actually might cum. Your cock bobs up and down, trails of precum dripping onto the floor and down your length. You’ve made such a mess. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and your heart stops. 
You lay on the duvet, resting your back against the pillows, and watch with bated breath as Agatha slowly unbuttons her pajama shirt. You whine when you can see her tits, round and perky, and you need to get her rosy nipples in your mouth immediately. She takes off her shorts and you can’t help but hump the air, your cock engorged and neglected. 
“Please,” you sob. “It hurts so fucking bad.”
She mockingly coos and then climbs onto the bed with her underwear still on, straddles your hips, and she slowly grinds against your cock. A loud, high-pitched keen tears itself out of your mouth and you buck up into her, but she tsks and hovers above you. “Patience, pet,” she says and there are literal tears in your eyes from how hard you are. 
Agatha reaches down and pulls her panties to the side and rubs her clit for a moment. 
“Can I—”
“—touch me? No. There’s no way you’d make it inside me then,” she sneers and you hate to admit that she’s right. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your cock jumping when she slides two fingers in herself. Your head is spinning, completely drunk with need for her. 
She takes pity on you and grabs your cock, angling it at her entrance. “It’s okay, honey. You’re just a little baby. My little, pathetic, desperate baby.” 
And then she slides down on your cock in one slick motion and your hands scramble to dig into the bedsheets and a loud, strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and you cum instantly, the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you too much to bear. 
To her credit, she doesn’t laugh as you rut into her frantically. She just waits for you to finally calm down before squeezing her cunt around you. It makes you gasp. “I knew you couldn’t last,” she says, slowly starting to bounce up and down your cock. 
“Too sensitive,” you whine and she clucks her tongue. 
“Well, you promised that you were going to fuck me, didn’t you?” 
Your cock has softened inside her, your cum starting to leak out of her pussy, and she collects it with her fingers and starts to rub her clit. Her walls spasm around you and you twitch. You nod your head and bite your lip — she is everything you’ve ever wanted. 
It takes a few minutes of Agatha clenching around you to bring you back to full hardness, a speedy recovery even by your standards, and she starts to ride you for real. 
“Good thing you’re the poster child for instant gratification,” she grunts, lifting herself up and then back down. There’s such a mess between the two of you that there’s squelching sounds each time she moves on you. You’re practically frozen beneath her and all you can do is watch as she fucks herself on you. “Just need to make you cum before actually being able to use you. I’ll train you so well, make you nothing into more than a cock for me to fuck.” 
You finally regain the ability to think and start desperately thrusting up into her, needing more than anything to make her moan, to make her cum. She’s riding you faster and harder and her chest is becoming flushed and you think she might actually be getting somewhere. 
But she squeezes around you again and fucking groans and you never stood a chance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck — Agatha, I’m gonna — fuck!” you cry and erupt inside her again, painting her walls white once again. You’re not even sure if you made it five minutes inside her. 
Agatha slows down on top of you and you wince at the overstimulation of her still wrapped around you. 
“Did you?” It’s a stupid question, one you already know the answer to, but you’re hoping that maybe you got it wrong. 
Her laugh tells you that you did not and she slides off you, your cock flopping against your stomach in a sticky puddle, and she grabs the edge of the blanket on your bed to wipe the globs of cum oozing out of her. Fuck. You’ll never be able to use that blanket without getting hard again and you know that you’ll be fucking the fabric every single day for the rest of your life. 
She flops down next to you and you wonder if it would be foolish to ask her to stay. “It’s not that easy to make me cum, pet. But don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”
@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights
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aureatelys · 2 days ago
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adore you
pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 3k a/n: written for @mggslover's 1k celebration event, congrats baby! i initially wrote 5k, hated it, and basically rewrote all of it but i swear i still had fun writing this. i hope you enjoy <3
summary:
Weird. You're acting like my boyfriend. - God Is a Freak, Peach PRC Your boss has essentially become your best friend. What the hell does Derek mean he looks at you a certain way?
c.w.: fluff! friends to lovers, age gap ofc, feelings realization, reader is oblivious and tipsy but is a consenting party
read below or on ao3 here <3
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“So, you and Hotch, huh?”
You had just finished putting your coat up, stepping through the massive entryway of Rossi’s mansion, when Derek approaches you with that familiar shit-eating grin and hands rubbing together like he’s scheming something.
You blink up at him, confused. “Yeah… he gave me a ride.”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still wearing that smile that made you want to lovingly punch him. “Yeah, I saw that. I meant, you and Hotch aren’t…?”
You squint at him, because you really aren’t sure what he’s hinting at. Also, a glass of wine has been calling your name since you started getting ready and Derek is very much in the way of that. Hotch was always annoyingly punctual, and today was no different because you were honestly about to open up a bottle when you heard his car pull up in the driveway. “We aren’t what?”
“Sweetness. You’re really trying to tell me you and Hotch aren’t together?”
You choke on your spit, coughing so loud in your fist that it echoes down the entryway and gathers the attention of Rossi and Hotch at the end of it. You wave them off when they both give you equally alarmed and concerned looks while Derek laughs heartily, like the asshole he is.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss at him, slapping him on the shoulder as he nearly makes himself tear up from laughing.
Derek puts a somewhat apologetic hand on your arm as he steers you to the kitchen and pours you a glass of red, finally. “Hey, I see the way he looks at you, I just wanted to make sure I’m up to date on everything.”
And that catches your attention.
Your chest still aching from your coughing fit, you give him another perplexed look. “What? He looks at me the same way as he looks at everyone.”
Derek’s face morphs into a nervous, almost uncomfortable one as he starts slowly backing away into the living room, as if you were an unpredictable dangerous animal. “I think I’m gonna… look for Garcia.”
And then he turns on his heel and is out of the kitchen before you can blink, leaving you with your lone glass of wine and the sounds of laughter emanating from the patio.
You’re still so fucking confused, because you and Hotch were only friends. In fact, you can almost consider him your best friend with the way you two are spending so much time together, even on the weekends.
One late night spent in his office to work on reports that were due the next day that you had procrastinated on and ordering Chinese food eventually turned into a habitual thing, now spending the last hour of the workday every night in his office. Then, he started inviting you to the park to play with Jack who had apparently been asking for you, then staying for dinner because Hotch was not eating the way he should’ve been and him and Jack didn’t deserve to eat pizza rolls with mac and cheese every night.
It's been a couple of months and now, you can honestly say you two are nearly attached at the hip. You’ve tried to tone it down for the office, because you knew you would get teased, and clearly you were right.
But dating Hotch? Honestly, the thought had never occurred to you.
You’ve been single for over a year and you were okay with that, because at least the job kept you busy. And you know for a fact that Hotch hasn’t even thought about dating since Beth moved a couple of years ago.
The sudden thought of Beth, her pretty blue-green eyes and perfect hair, causes a sour taste to form in your mouth. You had never met her, having only technically heard good things about her, but every time you thought of her or someone mentioned her in passing, you felt… upset.
For no reason.
When you glance at Hotch from where he’s talking with the rest of the team on the patio, you catch his gaze for a brief second before he’s turning his head back around to chuckle at something Rossi says.
You feel your heart start to race, your blood rushing through your ears, because what the fuck did Derek mean when he said Hotch looks at you a certain way? You were telling the truth when you said you’ve only noticed him looking at you platonically and nothing more.
Sure, Hotch was conventionally attractive, handsome even. You guess he hit all your boxes in a guy; tall, capable hands, and pretty brown eyes. He was a good boss, a good man, and was always putting other people first before even thinking about himself. He had an intense sense of justice, loves children, and would do absolutely anything for his team and even beyond for Jack.
He has a nice laugh once you break down his walls. For all he’s meticulous at work, his house is absolutely chaotic and it takes you nearly an hour sometimes to get him and Jack ready for a soccer game. He doesn’t prefer to cook but he seems to enjoy it more when you’re in the kitchen with him, laughing at his technique and groaning about the lack of certain utensils.
The sudden realization that you like Hotch, your boss that is older than you by 20 years, hits you like a ton of bricks. You nearly snap the stem of your wine glass, something like panic and mortification climbing up your throat before you could help it.
It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s normal to have a crush on someone you spend time with on a regular basis and is conventionally attractive. You can deal with that.
But the absolute possibility that Hotch doesn’t want you romantically was very real. In fact, it had to be the only possibility. You were younger and less experienced, both romantically and professionally. The only reason that he’s been spending so much time with you was because you needed guidance and reassurance as the newest member of the team.
He doesn’t look at you any differently than the others. That’s it. Derek has no idea what he’s talking about.
You take a shuddering deep breath, quickly composing yourself because, hello, you work with profilers. Which meant you couldn’t avoid or hide from Hotch tonight, no matter how much you wanted to.
When you make your way out to the patio to join the others with a full glass of wine and you spot the only space left in the circle was between Spencer and Penelope, you internally thank whatever God was out there. The sound of them talking over each other about something inane was oddly comforting as your eyes met Aaron’s from the other side of the circle.
His eyes appeared golden from the numerous fairy lights strewn across Rossi’s backyard, making his face appear softer and younger. You’re not sure how it took you this long to realize he was so handsome.
He raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if you were okay because, somehow, he’s grown to learn your facial expressions like the back of his hand, which means he most likely will catch on to you having a silly juvenile crush on him.
You give him a weak smile, raising your glass slightly before taking a large gulp of it. You’re glad that Rossi is Rossi and that he doesn’t spare any expenses when he throws his parties, the strong cherry flavor refreshing compared to your cheap boxed wine you’re used to. You don’t even remember what you were celebrating tonight, or if you were even celebrating anything at all and this was just another much needed get together after case after case.
You catch something soft in Hotch’s eyes that makes your chest pang painfully as he raises his own glass of whiskey before taking a sip. No one else has noticed, too enthralled by their own conversations, so the intimacy of the private moment doesn’t escape you, in fact making you even more anxious.
It was going to be a long night.
-
You are absolutely going to give Derek an earful on Monday morning.
It’s entirely his fault that you’re not enjoying Rossi’s party to the full extent, his words swimming in your mind.
Now, you’re psychoanalyzing and second-guessing everything Hotch does.
You had made sure to walk alongside Penelope on the way to the large round table for dinner, somewhat consciously as you continued to avoid Hotch but also because she was rambling about the show you suggested she watch. Spencer was on the other side of you, interjecting whenever he could, and you made a mental note that Hotch was still on the other side of the circle between Rossi and Tara.
So imagine your surprise when, after you tear your attention away from Spencer’s ramblings and back to Penelope, you’re met with Hotch’s pretty eyes and woodsy cologne instead.
“Oh, hi,” you say, hoping he doesn’t hear the shakiness that’s suddenly overtaken your voice as that familiar panic starts to crawl up your throat. This wasn’t going to be good.
“’Hi.” The corners of Hotch’s lips quirk up, eyes softening, and what the fuck is going on. “Can I sit next to you?”
You swear you’re going to have a heart attack. This man cannot be healthy for you. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
And then he’s pulling out your chair for you.
And it’s not anything new—he pulls your chair out for you all the time, in the conference room, in his dining table when you made not-pizza rolls, and even at restaurants the afternoons after Jack’s soccer games. You’ve never thought anything of it, but tonight, after your impeccably timed realization, your brain feels like it’s going to implode.
He’s just being a gentleman, that’s all.
“Thank you,” you manage out, heat starting to come to your face. Before Hotch, no one’s ever pulled your chair out for you. It’s nice.
Hotch doesn’t say anything, because of course not, just scoots your chair in closer to the table before he takes his seat on your right.
And he’s sitting really fucking close to you.
Have you always sat this close to each other before? You must have at least once during those late nights in his office, poring over case file after case file.
Not only could you feel the heat of his body just from sitting next to him, but his arm kept brushing up against your bare one while he ate, because of course you had to sit on the left side of a left-handed person. Every brush of the sleek fabric of his green button-up against your bare arm sent shivers down your spine despite the summer air, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
His hand kept brushing against yours as you ate and your eyes are drawn to how large his hands are as he handles his fork and the thickness of his forearms, having had rolled up his sleeves earlier. If you searched closely, you could find scars scattered over them through the dusting of hair, undoubtedly from his time on the job.
You don’t realize you’re staring at his Rolex and the way it glints underneath the lights, until Hotch is suddenly leaning into you. “Are you okay?”
Jesus Christ, hearing that smooth voice speaking lowly in your ear, breath warm as it fans over your cheek, causes all of the air in your lungs to escape. Has his voice always been that smooth, attractive?
When you risk a glance at him, conversations around the table slowly fading into the background, his face is merely inches from yours. His brows are pinched in concern and lips are pressed into a flat line. There’s something dancing in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put a finger on.
You clear your throat. “Sorry, I think the wine is just getting to me.”
He chuckles low underneath his breath. “Good thing I’m driving.”
And then he’s knocking the back of his hand against yours, the briefest brush of skin that causes electricity to zing up your spine, and then he’s back to listening intently to Derek and Emily’s bickering over who cheated at the last game of charades.
At this point, you think Hotch is able to read your mind. Why else would he be touching you, be sweet on you, if not to torture you?
You try to wrack your brain through these past couple of months, trying to find whether Hotch touching his hand to yours has happened before or any other sign that he actually is attracted to you. You come up short.
You chalk it up to him loosening up from his whiskey. He’s already moved onto water, because he was your ride, after all, so maybe this was a fluke. A one-off.
But it’s not a one-off. In fact, you think you’ve honestly died and gone to Heaven after suddenly tripping and breaking your head open in the entryway after Derek spoke with you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were actually on a date with Hotch, sans the rest of the team.
He must have noticed your distracted mood, because he’s making sure you’re included in almost every table conversation by glancing at you and giving you a smile that has started to make something flutter in your stomach. He’s participating minimally like usual, content to listen, but whenever he has a comment or thought he wants to share, he’s leaning in and sharing it with you.
He's leaning in to top of your wine, reaching over the table to get more of those green beans you like, and once even knocking his knee against yours underneath the table when you looked especially lost in thought while staring at your plate.
And then when the team has moved into the living room for charades, Emily wanting payback against Derek, it somehow gets even worse.
You’re quick enough to be the first to volunteer to not play due to there being an odd number of players, thus requiring Hotch to play. Everyone cheers teasingly, because Hotch is always quick to volunteer himself out of games, content to watch.
You blame the copious glasses of wine you’ve consumed and the decadent filling dinner, warmth thrumming through your entire body, when you poke at Hotch’s considerably firm bicep. “Show us what you got, old man.”
There are resounding oohs and aahs from the rest of the team. Something fuzzy settles in your chest when Hotch rolls his eyes good-naturedly at you and stands up from where he had sat next to you on the couch to JJ’s team.
You continue to nurse your wine, pleasantly buzzed, as you are thoroughly entertained by your team’s antics. Emily and Rossi argue at least 3 times, Penelope gets significantly close to having a private meeting with HR, and Hotch continues to stare at you.
Or at least, you think he’s staring at you. The alcohol has started making you second guess things even more than you already were. Because for some reason, despite JJ sitting on the other side of the living room and being on a team with her, he moved to sit in the empty spot next to you after the first round.  
He’s definitely participating in the game, even in second place behind Penelope and Derek, but you swear you feel his eyes on you now more than ever.
It’s distracting as you try to follow the game and guess along with everyone else. This time, the right side of him is nearly molded against your left side, pressing into you so hard that you’re starting to sweat from how much body heat he’s radiating.
When you glance at him to try and catch his eyes, he meets your gaze steadily. His hair is starting to come undone, a few strands falling against his forehead, and his dimple seems to have made a permanent appearance from how much he’s pretending not to laugh at his team’s antics.
It’s nice to see him enjoy himself—a flush rising up his neck and shoulders relaxed. Although you understand he has a certain image he maintains for his team, it’s become familiar to you.
By the time it dwindles close to midnight, there’s a chorus of yawns around the group. Penelope’s the first to call it, stumbling to grab a hold of Derek’s arm and dragging him with her out the door to drive her home, ruining your initial plans to catch a ride home with her instead of Hotch. After that, everyone starts to say their goodnights and exchanging hugs despite the chance you may get called on a case as early as tomorrow morning.
“You ready to go?” Hotch leans to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning over you again and causing heat to rise to your face.
“Absolutely,” you exhale, clutching the water bottle that Hotch retrieved for you in the middle of the game, hoping the breathiness in your voice could be blamed on how late it was.
When you get to Hotch’s car, heart full and warm after spending another wonderful evening with your makeshift family, he opens the passenger side door for you.
You think you’re going to lose your mind if he keeps this up. How are you supposed to stop having a crush on Hotch when he keeps doing things that justify that crush?
“Do you need to stop anywhere for anything? Are you hungry?”
You blame it on the wine despite the fact you’ve been drinking nothing but water for the past hour, thanks to Hotch silently getting you and only you a water. Your body and tongue feels loose, inhibitions naturally decreased, and it’s not your fault. It doesn’t matter if the soft lights of the driveway highlight the sharp angles of his face or the way his woodsy cologne has infiltrated your senses.
“Weird, you’re acting like my boyfriend or something.”
The silence that ensues is deafening. Your brain takes forever to catch up with you, but then you’re suddenly struck with humiliation and dread. You mind starts to race, as best as it could, when you realize that you may have just royally messed up the best job you’ve ever had and the best group of people you’ve ever met.
Before you can backtrack and say that you were just joking, Hotch carefully says “Do you want me to be?”
“What?” Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, why did you drink so much wine?
And then Hotch is stepping closer, into your space, and you’d be worried that the rest of the team was going to see if the car door wasn’t shielding you from view from the front of the house. You get a whiff of whiskey on his breath again, but when you meet his eyes, there’s not a hint of the same full body dizziness you feel.
“Was I not being direct enough?” There’s amusement sparkling in his eyes, eyebrows raised. He looks like he’s politely trying to hide a fond smile. He’s teasing you.
This Hotch is the one you’ve grown to become familiar with over the past several months. Charming and unafraid to tease you when you’re away from prying eyes. Hotch is a private person, always has been, so it’s not a surprise that him essentially torturing you tonight was his version of being direct.
“You’ve been flirting with me?”
Hotch ducks his head bashfully to chuckle. It’s ridiculously endearing and you want to tug him closer and touch him all over. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you all month so I’m guessing I didn’t do a very good job.”
You stare at him as if he grew a second head, suddenly feeling much more sobered up than 5 minutes ago. Clarity sluggishly comes to you. The various invitations to spend the night or go out to dinner without Jack comes to mind. The touching had steadily increased, but you had assumed it was just due to Hotch getting more comfortable around you.
For a profiler, you weren’t very good at noticing what was happening right in front of you.
Hotch may be a ridiculously patient person, clearly since he’s been content to flirt with you for apparently a month while you didn’t notice, but you were not. You knew what you wanted. The wine still thrumming through your veins just gave you that little extra push.
You place your palms on his chest, relishing in the subtle firmness you can detect through his shirt, and you wonder if that’s his heart you feel thumping erratically or your own. “I promise I’m not that drunk and am fully aware of what is going on right now.”
Hotch hums and places his hands on your hips, the heat of him searing through the fabric of your dress. His eyes briefly flit to your mouth before back up at you. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”
Instead of providing a snarky response, and because you know Hotch wouldn’t make the first move since you did have some to drink, you finally lean in to close the distance between you two to kiss him.
It’s soft, chaste in a way that makes you feel pleasantly warm all over, the barest tendrils of electricity tugging at the pit of your stomach. The intensity of how much you like him, how much you adore him, nearly barrels you over, but Hotch’s grip on you tightens, steadying you. His lips only slightly move against yours, as if briefly testing the waters, but it does nothing to quell the sudden desire slowly twisting inside of you.
When he pulls back, chest only marginally heaving, you instinctively chase after him. He chuckles again, low and comforting, as his hands come up to hold you still by the shoulders. It shouldn’t feel as nice and soothing as it does. “I should take you home.”
“Are you coming with me?” You sincerely hope that Hotch doesn’t question you and your boldness tomorrow. Again, not entirely your fault.
“I’ll walk you to your door, how about that?” As if he already wasn’t going to do that.
On the drive back to your apartment, the tight ball of panic and uncertainty in your chest quickly unfurls and is replaced by affection, tenderness, and promises of the future. Hotch’s hand, large and protective, doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way home.
You make a mental note to send Derek a gift card and thank you note on Monday.
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bettys-redwinesupernova · 3 days ago
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HIM & I
rafe cameron x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: rafe confronts the pogues after they try to get his girl to turn on him—big mistake.
based on this ask !! sorry it took a while anon, but i hope you enjoy it and it’s what you asked for :) got a couple request in the drafts stm, just editing them and i’m gonna’ start posting them one after the other <3
(check out my other drew starkey & rafe cameron works here !!)
WARNINGS: cursing, rafe threatening the pogues, mentions of murder, maybe a sliiightly toxic relationship (?), alcohol consumption. (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
THIRD PERSON +
The summer heat hung heavy in the air, thick with salt and gasoline, the scent of the Outer Banks. The island was split in two—the Kooks, who had everything, and the Pogues, who had nothing. And in the middle of it all stood Y/N, Rafe Cameron’s girl.
Not just his girlfriend. His obsession.
Rafe wasn’t known for being soft. Not with his father breathing down his neck, not with his so-called friends who only stuck around for the drugs and money, and certainly not with the Pogues, who were a thorn in his side. But Y/N—she was different. She was the only thing in this world that could make Rafe pause, the only thing he couldn’t bring himself to destroy.
He was still reckless, still dangerous, still a ticking time bomb—but with Y/N, he was something else too. Soft, almost. Not in the way that made him weak, but in the way that made him even more dangerous. Because if anything ever happened to her, he would burn this island to the ground.
They were inseparable, always tangled up in each other, whether it was his arm slung over her shoulders at a party, his lips trailing down her neck when no one was looking, or the way she fit perfectly against him when he finally let himself rest.
Y/N would do anything for Rafe. And he’d do anything for her.
So when the Pogues pulled her aside one afternoon, she already knew there was no world in which she would betray Rafe Cameron.
They had found her alone near The Wreck, waiting for Rafe to pick her up. Pope was the first to speak. “Y/N, listen, we need your help.”
She raised an eyebrow, already uninterested. “With what?”
“Proving John B’s innocence,” Kie said.
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “You’re joking, right?”
They weren’t.
“Rafe killed Peterkin,” Pope said, low and serious. “We know it. And we know you know it too.”
“Sarah saw him,” Kie added. “We just need something—anything—that proves it wasn’t John B.”
“You don’t have to protect him,” JJ said, his tone a little different from the others. He wasn’t pleading with her, wasn’t trying to reason. He was taunting. “I mean, come on, Y/N, you think Rafe would do the same for you?”
That made her blood boil.
“You don’t know anything about me and Rafe,” she snapped.
“Then prove it,” JJ challenged. “Help us, and I’ll believe it.”
Y/N let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You actually think I’d turn on him? That I’d betray my Rafe for you?” She took a step closer, her voice venomous. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not afraid of Rafe. I love him. And if you think for a second that I’d help you take him down, you’re out of your goddamn minds.”
She left them standing there, stunned, and walked away without looking back.
Rafe was waiting for her in his truck, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other tapping against his knee impatiently. He relaxed the second he saw her, his sharp features softening, his whole body exhaling in relief.
“Where the hell were you?” he asked as she climbed in.
“Talking to the Pogues,” she said, her voice laced with irritation.
Instantly, Rafe’s expression darkened. “What?”
“They tried to get me to help them prove John B’s innocent.”
Rafe went still.
It was a terrifying kind of stillness, the kind that came before a storm. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.
“They what?” His voice was calm, but she knew him too well to be fooled.
“They think I’d turn on you,” she said, shaking her head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “That I’d help them prove you killed Peterkin.”
That was all it took.
Rafe let out a sharp, bitter laugh, one that sent chills down her spine. “That’s fucking hilarious,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “They actually thought you’d betray me?”
His laugh faded just as quickly as it came. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, and that familiar rage flickered to life behind his blue eyes.
“They think they can talk to my girl,” he said, his voice dark and dangerous. “That they can turn you against me?”
She could see the storm brewing inside him, the way his fingers twitched like he was itching to grab something—someone. His knee bounced violently, and his breathing was slow, controlled, like he was trying not to explode.
Y/N reached over, placing her hand over his. “I shut them down,” she murmured. “They’re idiots if they ever thought I’d turn on you.”
Rafe exhaled through his nose, his knee stopping its frantic movement. He grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “They don’t get to talk to you. They don’t get to look at you. They don’t even get to fucking think about you.”
Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing against his jaw. “Then make sure they don’t,” she whispered.
Rafe turned his head, his lips crashing against hers in a bruising, desperate kiss. He kissed her like he was staking his claim, like he needed to feel her, taste her, to remind himself that she was here, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
When he pulled away, his eyes were still burning with fury.
“They’re gonna regret ever coming near you,” he muttered.
Y/N didn’t doubt it for a second.
The Boneyard was alive with the pulse of heavy bass and the crash of waves against the shore. Fires burned bright, illuminating the faces of Kooks and Pogues alike, their rivalries momentarily drowned in the haze of alcohol and summer heat. But that peace wouldn’t last.
Not tonight.
Because Rafe Cameron had a score to settle.
He stood at the top of the dunes, looking down at the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom. His jaw was clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Y/N stood beside him, her lips curled into a smirk, arms crossed casually over her chest. She knew what was about to happen—hell, she’d been waiting for it just as much as he had.
“You ready?” Rafe asked, voice low, eyes burning.
She turned to him, expression playful. “Always.”
Rafe smirked, but there was no humor behind it. Just something dark and volatile, barely contained. Then he was moving, striding down the dunes with the confidence of someone who owned this entire island.
Heads turned as he passed. Kooks raised their cups, cheering for their golden boy, oblivious to the rage simmering just beneath the surface. But the Pogues? They stiffened the second they saw him.
John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie were gathered near the fire, deep in conversation, but the second Rafe and Y/N approached, they all fell silent.
JJ was the first to react, straightening up and rolling his shoulders back like he was ready for a fight. “Oh, look,” he drawled, taking a swig from his beer. “Kook Prince and his loyal queen.”
Y/N scoffed, but Rafe barely acknowledged the remark. His eyes were locked on them, sharp and unrelenting.
“Which one of you dumbasses thought it was a good idea to talk to my girl?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.
John B tensed. Kie shifted uncomfortably. Pope kept his mouth shut.
JJ, of course, grinned. “You mean about you, uh, murdering someone?”
Rafe laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “That’s funny,” he said, tilting his head. “You know what else is funny? Thinking Y/N would ever betray me.”
JJ’s smirk faltered for just a second before he masked it with bravado. “I don’t know, man. She seems smart enough to know when she’s on the losing side.”
Y/N let out a laugh, stepping closer, brushing against Rafe’s side. “You’re delusional if you think there’s any world in which I’d choose you over Rafe,” she said. “I mean, come on, JJ. Are you really that desperate?”
JJ’s jaw clenched, but before he could say anything, Rafe took another step forward, closing the distance.
“You don’t talk to my girl,” he said, voice dropping to something low and dangerous. “You don’t look at my girl. You don’t even fucking think about her. Understand?”
JJ, never one to back down, scoffed. “Or what?”
Rafe’s eyes darkened, his smirk returning, but this time it was cold, calculated. “You don’t ‘wanna find out.”
There was a pause, thick with tension.
JJ met Rafe’s stare head-on, but for the first time, there was something hesitant in his gaze.
Rafe had always been unhinged. Dangerous. But this? This wasn’t just some Kook/Pogue rivalry. This was personal.
And when it came to Y/N, there was no line Rafe wouldn’t cross.
John B finally spoke, stepping between them. “We don’t want any trouble.”
Rafe let out a short, mocking laugh. “Yeah? Then you should’ve kept your mouths shut.”
The Kooks were starting to notice now, whispers spreading, eyes darting toward the confrontation. It wouldn’t be long before the whole party knew.
“You think you’re untouchable,” JJ muttered, shaking his head.
Rafe smirked. “No. I know I am.”
Y/N chuckled beside him, slipping her hand into his. “You should’ve known better,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “Rafe isn’t someone you fuck with. And neither am I.”
JJ’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. Not when it was so obvious that they had lost whatever game they thought they were playing.
Rafe leaned in, voice just loud enough for the Pogues to hear. “This was your one warning. Next time? I won’t be so nice.”
And with that, he turned, dragging Y/N with him as they walked away, leaving the Pogues standing there, seething.
The night continued around them, the music blaring, the drinks flowing—but everyone knew.
Rafe Cameron had made his point.
Loud and fucking clear.
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(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
i loved this request sm, thank you anon and i hope it’s what you asked for !! <3 i’ve had this a couple request in the drafts, just editing them so i can start posting them, so there might be a couple more posts tonight :)
as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) i’m gonna try my best to keep replying to reblogs and comments, because genuinely i am SO insanely grateful for all the love you’ve all given me :’) i’ve gone up by 400 followers since december and i’m so insanely grateful for the love on my page and my works <3
pls keep requesting my loves !! request are still open and i’m working through them until i go away on wednesday <3
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cthulhus-curse · 3 days ago
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Demonic Nature
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3,153
Warnings: Demon!Wanda, Angel!Reader, Smut, Strap-Ons, Breeding, Fingering, Oral Sex | 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: In which you test the ownership a demon has over you, an act which earns you quite the delicious 'punishment'.
Perfection has always come easily to you. It’s not like you ever had to try or strive to be something you weren’t. At the end of the day, you were an exemplary being of good and light. You could never do any wrong. Sins did not exist in your being as you lived on happily among other angels. For your god, you’d do anything – you’d be anything. 
Then Wanda came along and turned your existence around.
You should’ve known at first that it would only take a demon to infiltrate the heavenly land which you resided in. Time stood still there, nonexistent for that matter. It was you and your fellow angels who bestowed greatness among humanity, saving its people from the sins that live deep in their society. 
At first you thought Wanda was nothing more than another angel, a newly crafted being who was to join your little family. She seemed quite soft, almost a mirror of yourself down to your personality of mannerisms. You didn’t know it then, but it was all on purpose. Pretending to be a deeply crafted imagery of your being was her way of making you feel more comfortable and as the gullible little angel you were, you fell for it. Unlike Wanda, you had never seen evil up-close. 
Once her fangs had sunk deep into your mind, you were hers. You couldn’t explain it, but there were times your mind felt fussy around her, almost as though you were free of any thought, your brain only carrying distorted images of Wanda. She was a magical being capable of immeasurable destruction; you were the angel she had chosen to corrupt for her own amusement. 
“We should visit the humans. I mean, aren’t you curious to see them? See what they look like? How they act?” Wanda once said to you. Of course you had been curious, but there was no place to have freedom of thought among the angels. You were to be a carbon copy of everyone else, a pristine entity. 
After having been pressured constantly by Wanda, you accepted her terms. You were to visit the humans only for a few hours, to study their behavior, perhaps even pretend to be one of them. Your fellow angel had promised she had been before and never got into trouble, so innocent as you were, although knowing it was barred to visit the humans, you went along with it. 
It’s how you ended up stranded in a room with Wanda. The place was called a hotel, she said. You were to rest there, to recharge your energy, which you didn’t lack, and wait for the following day to pass given it was night. There were even adorable little things called ropes on the bed that you jumped over just to play with. Running your hands through them, you smiled. 
“Do you like them?” Wanda asked as she came up behind you. When you turned, your smile fell as you grew silent, frowning at the scene before you. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t you like how I look?”
Her angelic presence had disappeared. The previously white feathered wings were replaced with broken, dark red ones, holes upon them and all. There was no halo over her head as it was instead substituted for a pair of horns along with a tail that was shifting along her leg, the end of it pointy and harsh. With eyes that glowed red, head tilting, you were more than enthralled. Embarrassment set aside, you admitted to yourself she was even more enchanting than before. 
You were scared at that moment, but using her magic, Wanda didn’t allow you to run. Instead she carried around a state of nudity that she wished to mirror upon you, getting your robes to disappear and leave you with nothing but your wings and halo to show. Licking her lips, the red headed demon was hungry. 
“This will be our little secret, honey. Just for the two of us to keep,” she whispered with a husky tone while walking forward. Although you knew to run from the one you could see was a demon, you remained in place. The curiosity of what she’d do to you was far too much to ignore. “It’s just us now, Y/N. There is no one that can find you. Whatever happens in this room, I promise it’ll stay here. Now, don’t you want me to teach you some new things?”
You hesitated to even speak. “What is this? This isn’t right, Wanda. I’m not supposed to see you…like this. You’re- you’re a demon!”
“I thought you believed all creatures to be pure,” she shot back. When crawling over the bed towards you, you noticed the animalistic nature of her, red eyes commanding you without the need of words to be spoken. “I’m not a monster, sweetheart – I’m your owner. There’s a difference.”
“I’m not owned by you or anyone!”
“Really?” She giggled at that, shaking her head with disbelief and adoration – you were far too innocent for your own good. “Then what’s this?”
Running her hand over your abdomen made a wave of pain shoot through your body. You squirmed and attempted to get away, but the pain was much worse if you dared resist. A beautifully crafted marking settled itself over your skin. It simulated an image like that of a crown which glowed deep red as it was ingrained into your body. Whether you liked it or not, you were now property of Wanda Maximoff. 
“You know, I’ve spent centuries trying to find a willing pet. It’s always been failed attempt after failed attempt, too much red on my ledger. You’re the first one to accept my gift,” she grazed her fingers over your womb tattoo. “You’re the first survivor and no offense to the other lab rats, but after the little time we’ve spent, you’re my favorite.”
“Wanda…” you mumbled with fear. 
“Shhh don’t be scared, little one. I don’t bite,” she stopped for a second to amuse herself. “Well, not yet at least.”
Your willingness to give in didn’t surprise Wanda. If at any point you dared misbehave, to refuse her, the tattoo would make it so that your body went through an immeasurable amount of pain. It wouldn’t settle until you obeyed your master’s orders. With the way Wanda controlled your mind, it wouldn’t be difficult to keep you stuck in place. 
Her mouth explored your body with adoration. Hands were everywhere, teasing your sides, nails digging into your skin to leave beautiful marks, along with her lips which kissed their way up your body as you simply sat there and took it. You knew it was wrong, that sinful activities filled with lust weren’t allowed as angels, and yet you loved it. With Wanda’s tongue exploring the expanse of your skin, you were finally in your true heaven. 
“You’re thinking too loud. Stop,” the redhead ordered before taking a nipple in her mouth. She scratched her nails over your midsection a bit, sucking tenderly over the erect bud, tongue swirling around it, before she moved on to the other one. “You need to remember that this isn’t bad. I’m not hurting you, sweetheart. All I’m doing is clearing you of your sins. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be untouchable. A pure angel that can never do anything wrong. It’s what you want, right? To make your stupid little god proud?” You nodded. “Good. Then you can do it if you sit there like a good girl and listen. I’m not here to hurt you. I promise I just want what’s good for you, baby.” She kissed the swell of your breasts, exploring everything in sight with just her mouth and devilishly split-tongue. “You know that, right?”
You nodded once again. Wanda didn’t want to hurt you, you mused. All she wanted was to save you. Perhaps demons had changed for once. “I understand. Could you…make it better now? I can’t explain it, but it feels weird down there.”
The beam that overtook her features couldn’t be easily described, but the closest thing would be of pride. 
Wanda got you to relax over the bed, your wings comfortably spread apart so as to not cause you any discomfort. She traveled down your body using only her mouth to embrace your skin, lingering over the tattoo she had given you to strengthen its bond with you. After she was done with you, you wouldn’t easily rid yourself of it, if ever. 
“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” she questioned with her head buried between your legs. Her tail wrapped itself around one of your ankles, making it so that you couldn’t easily close your legs. When you shook your head, she huffed with disapproval. “They’re all missing out. You’re truly a fucking angel, darling. Fuck, just look at you. If I had known you were this perfect, I would’ve taken you eons ago.”
As her split tongue first touched your cunt, you shuddered. The feeling of pure arousal and need shot through you faster than light. A hand gripped the bed sheets as the other went to the first place it could find: one of Wanda’s horns. 
When first merely grazing it, the demon moaned against your pussy. She had your legs pried open in front of her, nails digging so deep into your skin they drew blood. Her one weakness was her horns and tail, especially when you so tenderly held one of her horns and ghosted your hand over it at times. All Wanda saw was the red of her passion for you. 
“Tastes to fucking good,” she cried out while lapping at your slit furiously. As her fingers inched closer to your hole, Wanda drew lazy circles all over your clit. She could feel you pulsating against her, cunt throbbing against her mouth violently. “Such a perfect little whore for me.”
She didn’t hesitate to begin easing a finger in your tight hole. Never had you had anything inside you in such a way. You were painfully tight even for a single digit. Wanda licked you thoroughly, simply pumping the tip in you until you relaxed yourself enough to take the whole thing. It did the trick as you slowly were stretched out, your pussy taking in all which she gave you. 
Her focus wasn’t just on bringing you to your climax. Wanda wanted to torture you, to destroy every last bit of sanity and innocence that lay beneath you only to make it her own. She would be the one in charge of every single thought running through your head, praising you always for being such a willing pet who didn’t peg any questions. So quiet and loyal to the demon just as she wished. 
Thrusting her finger in and out of your hole made her grunt. There was an unshakable hypnotism she underwent while watching you ache just for her touch. Sloshing sounds filled her ears as she lay constantly tasting your wet pussy. Even sweet, yummy juices ran down your shaky inner thighs. Each little drop she saw needed to be against her tongue without hesitation. 
“I know you’re close, sweetheart,” Wanda breathed out deeply. It was quick, she knew, and yet neither of you cared. The faster she got you to cum, the easier you’d submit constantly. “You can cum for me, sweetheart. Do it right now just for your master. Be the good girl I know you are.”
You didn’t know what to call it, but there was a wave of relief shot through your body. The knot previously formed on your lower belly, right underneath the skin that carried the beautifully crafted tattoo, finally loosened. Wanda didn’t stop though. She curled up her finger inside of you, still inching it as deep as she could while very lightly sucking on your clit, then pushing harshly against it until you screamed. 
Once you were left a mess, Wanda filled herself with pride. “It’s what He wants, sweetheart. What we’re doing is just to keep all those pesky sins away,” Wanda explained as she sat between your legs. The demon licked her lips clean, her split tongue long enough to reach her chin and gather up all of your juices. “Now I’ll give you one last thing before letting you rest. Think of it as a reward for being such a good little angel.”
She was dripping between her own legs, pussy aching for you to make it all better, and yet wanda ignored it for the sake of more playtime. Her hand flicked and immediately the rope previously over the bed was wrapped around your wrists. It was rigid enough so that you couldn’t move your hands away even if you wanted to. Although it wasn’t your primary focus as you felt something poking at your stomach only to look down and frown with confusion. 
There was a unicorn dildo nestled between Wanda’s legs that was attached to her waist with black straps. The demon was far too busy checking your bindings to notice the curious look you gave the colorful horn, giggling a bit at its cuteness. 
The redhead tugged at the ropes admiring her handiwork. “Hmm nice and tight,” she muttered, taking a pause just to hold your gaze. “Just like you.” 
You gulped, but rather than fear, you were aroused. As bad as lust was of a sin, you couldn’t help the way in which you entirely handed your sanity to Wanda. She could easily control you, making you do anything she wished after having exerted such blissfulness over you. Although given how wondrous of a feeling it had been, you knew it wasn’t anything evil, but instead pure as the hands that groped your breasts, nipples being tugged and pinched between her fingers as she laughed. 
Once again, a flick of her wrist made it so another item appeared. Wanda undid the cap before oozing drops of the mysterious liquid all over her strap, throwing the bottle to the side. She grabbed herself and hummed, green eyes turning red as she watched herself jerk the faux cock up and down. When it was finally fully lubricated, she got to work. 
The tip of the unicorn horn dildo pressed against your cunt. Wanda slid it up and down your slit, its head spreading apart the slick folds that let out adorably wet sounds. You were still rather sensitive, and yet you ached to have her inside once again. It only made matters better to see the toy was much larger than her finger. You’d be all nice and full for your owner. 
Given what was inside, the toy was slightly heavier than others. It required to be held tightly before being slapped over your clit, Wanda mocking the way you wiggled away. She swirled it over your clit before dragging it back down to your entrance, teasing it slightly until she found you to be ready enough to take it all. 
When Wanda first thrust her hips forth, she had to groan. She could still feel the ghosting hand over her horns urging her arousal forth. For you, she was dripping. Her cock had lubricant all across it, the adorably colorful ridges from the unicorn shown off. 
“Such a good cock whore. Fuck, look at how pretty your pussy is. So hungry and desperate for my cock,” Wanda grunted as she began moving her strap inside of you. She was uncharacteristically slow, her hips holding themselves back while your pussy was adorably stretched out. She took everything from you — your soul, your mind, your innocence, and your being. Then again, you could never complain. “That’s it, angel. Take it all. Every—fucking—inch.” 
The room was filled with the stench of sex and your shared moans. You were much louder than she imagined, your noises all hoarse from the propensity of them. Being fucked by Wanda was all you longed for. The demonic nature of it all made you drip. You couldn’t notice, nor care, the way your wings began tinting dark, the edges all black similar to the fingertips of the demon. 
“That feels amazing. Oh my-”
Once you had grown used to her relentlessly large toy, the redhead was sure to claim you as her own. She kept her tail in place prying your legs open, pumping her cock in and out of your cunt while your inner walls hugged her tight. Hands were placed on your lower stomach for support right near your tattoo. Such a beautifully corruptible angel, Wanda thought. You were perfect. 
“Yeah? Well you’re doing such a good job, honey. Taking it all so well. Hmm I am so proud of you,” she commented while licking her lips hungrily at the sight of your bouncing tits, her split tongue making you drip. “The most perfect angel across the universe. You’re one of a kind, sweetheart, and so mine. Never fucking forget it.” 
Wanda slapped a hand over your tits, groping the mound tightly until she left marks on your skin. Never did she stop fucking you rough, your bodies slapping together accented by the sounds of pleasure that escaped your throat. In the hell that the demon created, you realized she was truly your savior. 
When you came for the second time, Wanda was there right with you. For a moment you were disappointed with the eventual emptiness you felt as she pulled out her dildo slightly to allow herself to squeeze it tightly. Then once white spurted drops oozed into your cunt, you were relieved.
She spent countless eons filling your pussy up with her cum, breeding you like the nice little slut you were, taking all of her seed. Movements only grew sloppier, and yet Wanda found it in herself to fuck the cum back into your pussy. She couldn’t allow even a drop of it to go to waste. You were at her mercy — her breeding bitch. 
“Shhhh that’s it, angel. Just like that. Take all of my sweet cum right in your pussy like a good pet,” she whispered. Hands kept slapping at your breasts and leaving them all nicely bruised. For a few extra moments she pumped her cock in you, the ridges of the horn making you scream. Soon enough, when her movements stopped, all you could witness was Wanda hovering on top of you while breathing raggedly. “My pretty one.”
“Hmm yours, Wanda,” you happily replied.
Whether it was the magic she used to control your thoughts, the womb tattoo, or out of your own volition, you still found yourself willing to remain by Wanda’s side. During all your existence you urged yourself to find more perfection with the angels, but never realized it was all to be made better by one particular demon. As sinful as you knew it to be, your newfound lover made it all worth it.
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Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.
sometimes I will rb a post about my shows or video games w no extra tags but irl it looks smth like this
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cinnamon-flame · 1 year ago
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These guys killed me a couple of times but I can't possibly be mad at them, just look at them, scavs are so adorable.
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bacchuschucklefuck · 6 months ago
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class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhfy#fhsy#fhjy#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#figueroth faeth#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#my class swap stuff! oh yeah I think I got a tag for that I'll call that#fh class quangle#gna slowly go back and get that tag on relevant posts too. for organization's sake#even tho I didnt really intend this blog to be that kinda blog lmao. we were all just gonna be out here dealin with that at our own pace#anyways uh! they! u know all the lore for the designs already I put em in tags. but otherwise this also collects like the#color keys kind of for these. mostly the things that change between designs#doing this did make me realise half of these are a Lot more consistent in color keys than the other half lol#like kristen's palette stays pretty much the same. and fabian's. the hit's mostly in the construction#a lot of this is overall like an exercise in remembering what high schoolers would actually wear and how to work in Costume pieces#on this point at least I straight up have No relevant recollection lmao all the basic education establishments I went to have uniforms#and outside of school I was. well kind of a shorts and tee guy. so#on that topic I feel like fabian's is the furthest stretch lmao. like if a guy in high school wears the same bright yellow raincoat#to school every day that's like. people would Not like that guy. fabian really is saved by being cute and a rogue#he will still have stans when he's deep in his fishing arc in junior year he's the manic pixie dream bf#anyways uh. things to do! stuff to get done. sleep first tho. have a good night lads#I have not caught new nsbu yet! seems I mostly catch them like two to three days late nowadays.#so please uhh. don't reply on my posts with nsbu spoilers? we are all excited and having fun but that's rude#ok thank u. signing off for the day have a good night#!!
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