#but my brain has designated him the best friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tasteleeknow · 3 months

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RASPBERRY PIE

minors dni. minho x fem!reader. 4k words content warnings. pet names (sweetheart, angel). mutual pining. sweet/shy reader. perv!minho. corruption kink. food play. dirty talk. oral (m rec.). soft!dom minho.

you bake your quiet neighbour a warm raspberry pie.

He's pretty sure he's utterly fucked from the jump – he finds himself attached so early he almost convinces himself you're a witch in disguise; that maybe he'd moved in next door to a creature designed to trap men like him. A siren, maybe. The sweetness was an act; all the soft tones and doe eyed looks were just a trick to lure him down beneath the waves.

He was determined not to drown.

And then you show up with the pie, a little flushed from working around a hot oven. It'd been 6 months – 6 months since he'd moved in, and as he opens the door to find you in an apron with little pink stains, a feeling of approaching and inevitable doom settles in his chest. Finally, you'd come to take him.

"Hi," you greet with a shy smile. "My friend brought me over far too many berries yesterday so..." you look down at the golden pie, carefully decorated and clearly still warm, "...well I made this. For you."

If he was wise, he'd politely decline, close the door, and never be faced with the reality of the sweet little siren in his apartment, offerings of temptation and all.

"For me?"

You look up at him through long lashes. "Do you like pie?" you ask. It's the way you say it, like if he doesn't you might genuinely hurt inside – like with a simple rejection of your offering, he had the ability to snuff out some little candle alight inside you.

"I like pie," he says.

Then you smile. Like it's the best news you've heard in weeks. "Oh, good."

He steps aside, his body betraying him. The siren enters with her warm pie and soft smiles – and he knows, unequivocally, that he's fucked.

He keeps his distance as you comfortably navigate to the kitchen to find a place for your offering. The apartments were all pretty much identical as far as he knew. The two on this floor, his and yours, were mirrored. He imagines that just on the other side of your joining wall, you took the same steps he did he each morning, in parallel.

You fiddle a little with the delicately placed raspberries atop the pie as he approaches from the other side of the island. You wear a tiny silver ring on one finger, much like one he wears on his own. He'd spotted it before, during short interactions in the elevator. He suppresses the urge to comment on it now, to ask if it meant anything to you.

He doesn't need to know you. He couldn't afford to. He was finding himself attached enough without it.

Then you pluck one little berry up in your fingers and bring it to your lips. He watches you. He watches you and he knows that he's walked willingly into a trap.

"Sweet?"

You look up. "Hm? Oh." You nod. "They're lovely. My friend gets them from this farm near his parent's place."

Friend. His. He sits in the feeling that stirs in his chest for a quiet moment. It's a rotten feeling. He doesn't like it at all.

"He brings them often?" he finds himself asking.

"Not at all. He just happened to come by after being there for a weekend. He doesn't go there often, I don't think." Your accompanying smile is almost enough to snuff out the rotten feeling before he has time to digest it. Almost.

Then he considers that this might not be the only pie. You may have made this other guy a pie just like it... maybe it was bigger, maybe you'd used the sweetest berries in his pie.

He kicks a cat toy across the floor as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, a little embarrassed by his own internal monologue. Witchcraft, turning his brain into mush.

"You have a pretty view."

He looks up to find you brushing your hands down your apron and rounding the kitchen island. You seem drawn to his floor to ceiling windows, a little moth to the light.

He follows.

"Mine isn't nearly this nice," you continue once he's standing beside you. "All I get is the construction site and a concrete wall." Then you close your eyes, head tilting back a little to let the sun's afternoon rays bathe your face. "Don't get the sun like this, either," you add, a little dreaminess leaking into your already sweet voice.

Oh, he's fucked.

"You like it?"

You blink up at him, eyes adjusting to the light again. "Hm?"

"I mean if you really like it, you're welcome over anytime, whenever." He wonders if this is part of your spell work, making him say stupid shit. Maybe he'd be better off if you were casting spells on him, if he had a reasonable excuse for being so fucking braindead. "For the sun," he adds, like it makes it better.

A small breath of laughter slips from your pretty lips. "It does get a little gloomy over there, on my side of the wall."

It was hard to imagine anywhere you were being gloomy.

"I should go," you continue after a short moment of comfortable silence, each of you basking in the sunlight. He really should appreciate that more, he notes. Then he considers the fact he'll associate this little patch of warmth with you each time he attempts such a thing.

"Sure," he says, following you from a safe distance to the door. "Thank you. For the pie."

"You're welcome."

Everything is fine. He's alone and he survived the encounter. Then he's faced with the pie. He stares down at it, warm and made with careful hands.

He plucks a berry off the top. He thinks of the berry you'd eaten in the same way.

Everything is fine.

He hesitates as he goes to pluck a second berry. Instead of lifting one from the crust, he presses the tip of his finger a little against the surface. Warm. He breaks through. His finger is coated in syrupy, red filling when he pulls it free. It's sugary sweet when he sucks it clean.

Shame. That's what he feels next. Because sweet gestures of neighbourly kindness should not trigger the kind of thoughts creeping their way into his head.

He wonders if the little siren's cunt is as warm and sweet as the little offering she brought him. He considers doing the right thing, having a cold shower and sitting in the morning sun with a slice of pie.

But apparently, today, and the day before, and every day for the past 6 months, Minho was not wise and he wasn't very good. Because he let the thoughts of his sweet little neighbour stew for months, and this is where it'd led him.

He stands there, one palm pressed flat on the kitchen counter, the other buried in his sweatpants, and he thinks of the sweet little siren with her sweet offerings, and he imagines sinking his hard cock into her warm, sweet cunt.

—

It's hard not to deflate entirely as you close your apartment door behind you. You'd expected too much from a single pie, you suppose. It would entirely out of character for him to ask you to stay for a slice, to take the opportunity to finally have a conversation longer than an elevator ride.

You sigh, dropping your forehead against the cool surface of the door. It helps a little. You're overheated, both from the cooking, the warm sun, and the heat that had bubbled up from the inside as the pretty - yet frustratingly reserved - man next door had watched you move about his space.

You hadn't lied, his apartment was far nicer than yours. You could imagine basking in that patch of sun any chance you had. You wonder if he does the same, if he sits there after a shower, chest bare and hair still a little damp - letting the sun warm his skin.

You leap back as a knock on the door jolts you out of your daydream. Sighing, you press your palm to your forehead - head thoroughly rattled - as you pull the door open.

Oh.

"Hi," Minho says casually. He's a little flushed compared to when you'd left him minutes earlier. He shouldn't be. There were no stairs between your apartments.

"Hello, again."

He glances over your shoulder, getting a clear view of your empty living room. "It is darker in here," he says, still casual.

"Oh. Mm, yeah. I miss your sun already."

His eyes fix back on you. Then he pulls his lip between his teeth slightly. He has something to say... something he won't say.

"Why'd you make me the pie?" he asks.

You blink. "I... had a lot of berries from-"

"Your friend. I know."

You're officially confused. His eyes drop down your dirty apron before returning to your face. "You only made one?"

"Is it bad?" you question.

He pushes some hair away from his eyes. "No," he says quickly. "No, it's... nice." His eyes sweep down your body again. "Sweet," he adds.

"I only made one."

His eyes jump to yours before a brief look of confusion flashes across his pretty face. He seems to remember his own question soon enough. "You didn't want to give it to," he gestures vaguely behind you, "your friend?"

"No," you answer simply. This entire interaction was drifting into territory you weren't sure you were ready for. If his questions got any more interrogative, you might find yourself wondering how to answer them in any other way than 'Oh, the pie? I baked it for you because I have a huge, embarrassing crush on you, even if you've seemed intent on not knowing me.'

"He doesn't like pies?" he asks.

You can't help following the path of his fingers as he fiddles with the chain hanging around his neck. They brush his skin as he strokes the metal back and forth.

"I... don't understand what you're asking me," you say as you pull your eyes from his neck. "Is something wrong?"

He readjusts his position in the doorway, pressing his hand to the frame and freeing you from the constant distraction at his neck. He leans over you a little like this.

God, he's pretty.

"You a witch?" he asks.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you put something in it?" he continues, still leaning well and truly into your space. "Something to make me-" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing.

"Are you asking me if I poisoned the pie?"

His voice drops, like someone might overhear, despite you both being entirely alone on this floor of the building. "I'm trying to figure out why all I can fucking think about is how you might taste on my tongue."

Your head rushes, all the heat returning. Then your eyes drop to the floor.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

You don't. His shoes are safer. He was flirting. More than flirting. He wanted you.

His fingers guide your chin up, it doesn't take much, a nudge. "I'll leave if you want," he says. "Never mention it again. Just tell me what you want."

"Did you like it?" you find yourself whispering. "The pie."

His lips crack into a lopsided smile. It's tiny, but it's a smile. "Loved it, sweetheart. Sent me to heaven."

"Would you... would you like to come in?"

He nods.

You go to turn, to let him follow you. But then, instead, you take his hand and lead him in. He's warm. You imagine all the sun he gets over there must've absorbed deep inside him over time. Maybe he could leave some of it behind here for you - that heat might leak from him if your kept him here long enough.

He follows where you lead, his hand still grasped firmly in your own. You're not sure why you lead him to the sofa. You aren't sure what you're expecting next. It's why you find yourself simply standing beside the piece of furniture waiting for him to say something – to let go of your hand maybe.

Instead, his thumb begins brushing over your skin. He's quiet, seemingly unhurried to break the tension building.

"I asked my friend to bring the berries," you confess quietly, eyes focused on your interwined hands. Confessions were always so much easier with your eyes downwards. "I wanted to make something for you... specifically."

"Why's that?"

His thumb continues against your skin. He doesn't make you look at him like he had before.

"Because I... wanted you to - I wanted your attention."

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, "So you baked me a pie?"

"I'm good at baking."

"You are," he agrees. Then his other hand reaches for the hem of your apron. He rubs it between his fingers a little. "Messy though."

You look down at the patterned splotches, pink on white. Then he releases your hand, taking that warmth with him. He only allows you a few seconds to miss it though. That same hand snakes around the back of your neck, skin on skin.

Your eyes are drawn to his without thought.

"Are you always messy?" he asks.

You nod, chewing on your lip a little.

He seems pleased with your answer, a small hum escaping his throat. "I like messy," he says, sounding a little far away. "Do you like messy, sweetheart?"

Your eyes drop to his lips, a little stained from your pie filling. "Yeah," you breathe.

He tugs you towards him before your have time to suck in another breath, attaching himself to you like he's starved. You can't help gasping a little into his mouth as he presses you into him with a hand to your back.

Holy fuck. Surely you'd wake up slumped against the door any second. Maybe someone hadn't just knocked on the door. Someone had opened it and knocked you out and you were dreaming about your pretty, brown eyed neighbour.

He groans a little before taking your lip between his teeth. No. No you were definitely awake. "So sweet," he mumbles as he releases you, his breath ghosting over your wet lips. "Can I have you?"

–

It's hard to keep his head on straight as you look up at him with those big sweet eyes. Can I have you? His stomach rolls as he waits for you to say yes. Please say yes. 6 months of denial and he was desperate.

You'd made that sweet little gift for him. Just for him. His little siren.

Then you're pressing against his chest, forcing him down onto the sofa. He looks up at you, at the stained apron and the hair sticking a little to your temples from the time spent making his pie.

Then you lower yourself to your knees.

Oh, fuck.

Your hands only have to brush his legs for him to get the hint. He spreads them, allowing you to shuffle closer to him – settling between his thighs.

Then you look up at him. "Can I taste you?"

He's keeping you. His head drops back as he collects himself. Then, "You want my cock in your pretty little mouth?"

You nod, fingers pressing lightly into his thighs.

Minutes ago he was fucking himself into his own hand imagining how warm you'd feel around him. Now you're between his legs, lips wet, asking to taste him.

He's careful to keep his eyes on you as he frees himself, intent on catching each and every reaction you make – he's keeping it all.

You're a little hesitant as you reach for him. "You're good, sweetheart," he encourages. "Touch me however you like."

It seems to be all you need. In the next second your soft little hand is wrapping around his length. His head drops back again as his eyes close.

It's a mistake, closing his eyes. He's not prepared when your wet lips press to the tip of him, soft and warm. He groans, hand automatically making a home in your hair. He needs grounding. He needs –

Your lips wrap around him. His little siren was sucking his dick into her sweet little mouth. His hips jump a little. "Oh fuck, that's right. You're all warm for me."

You hum a little around him. Then, you take him deeper. Hot little tongue dancing over his sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he groans. "Take it for me, sweetheart." He resists the urge to spill himself right here, right against your tongue. "Hm? You taking it for me?"

His hips jump again as he fucks himself into your hot mouth, wet and sweet and just for him. You'd wanted his attention. You'd come for him. Just him.

"You mine?" he gasps as he forces his head up to look at you. "You gonna let me fuck you?"

Your lips pull off him slowly, a little suction at his tip sending his head spinning. "Do you want to?" you ask, lips swollen.

He leans forward enough to begin lifting you, encouraging you to climb into his lap. Each hand rests at your hips as you settle yourself there, his leaking cock pressed between you.

"So bad," he answers.

You shift a little in his lap. He imagines you squirming on his cock.

"Me too," you confess. It's quiet, like it's bad.

Sweet siren.

"Sit on me," he instructs. "Want you to bounce on me, sweetheart."

You eyelashes flutter as you blink a few times, processing, deciding. Then you shift, reaching up under your dress and tugging your underwear down.

Something in his stomach stirs when he realises you were leaving the rest on, apron and all.

You grasp him in a soft hand, guiding him beneath your clothes – then you sink down. He's transfixed by the little sound that escapes your lips as you take him in. That, and the way your cunt feels squeezing around him. He might have to keep you for fucking ever.

Hot and sweet and wet and better than he'd imagined as he'd fucked himself against his counter minutes earlier. Better than any of the scenarios he'd dreamed up over the months he'd spent thinking of his sweet little neighbour.

You fall into him with a sigh once you're full seated, cock buried deep.

"Doing so well," he says, hand squeezing a little at the back of your neck.

You mumble something into his neck in response. He can't quite make it out, but he swears, it almost sounds like a tiny 'thank you'. He has to keep himself from filling you at the thought of it.

His hands return to your hips. You must take it as a prompt because you lean back from him enough to begin lifting yourself off him and dropping again.

It's slow at first, a little swivel in your hips, grinding yourself down into him.

The apron prevents him from seeing how his cock looks slipping in and out of your little cunt. He hasn't even seen it, that sweet little hole between your legs.

Instead, he feels.

–

It makes sense that a man as pretty as him would have the prettiest cock. One you wanted to taste. One that would have you slippery and ready to take him.

There's this vein that throbs in his neck each time he drops his head back with a groan. His neck. God you want to lean forward and bite into it. But he might not be into that. Next time, you think. Or the time after that.

God you hope there's a next time.

His fingers dig into your hip as you sink all the way down again. It feels a little like he's resisting, holding back.

"Minho?"

His head lifts, eyes a little glassy as he blinks at you. "Hm?"

"You can fuck me," you tell him. "However you want. I want you to fuck me."

He blinks again. His fingers dig into your skin harder.

"Tell me when you wanna stop. Just tell me," he says.

You nod. Then he's leaning forward and tugging you against him. His lips press to your skin just at the crook of your neck.

Then you're falling. He falls over you. Then he lets go. He presses you into the couch cushions as he drives into you, hair falling over his face. He's even pretty like this, with parted lips and brows slightly furrowed.

Your skin slaps together as he fucks himself into you. Messy, he'd said. He liked messy.

That's what he gets as he continutes to drive into you, as you begin to drip around him, as he fucks that wetness into you and over your thighs and then the sounds it all makes.... messy.

"Wanna fill you," he mutters. "God, I wanna fill you so bad. Wanna fuck my cum into your sweet cunt."

You squeeze your eyes shut as he continues, overwhelmed.

"You can take it for me, angel. I know you can. Sweet little thing made just for me. I knew it." He's muttering so much you're hardly sure he even knows what he's saying. His fingers are almost painful as they dig into your skin, like he can't hold onto you hard enough.

"Fill me," you gasp.

He eyes lift from where you join together to lock on your face. "Yeah?" he asks, a slight croakiness breaking his words up a little. "I'll make you all warm and sticky inside, hm? Just like your pretty little pie? That sound nice?"

Oh god. There was something inside you, something made for this – for him. You knew this was going to ruin you forever.

"Please."

He falls over you, then he bites. He bites into you as he floods you full.

#lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff

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gojonanami · 11 months

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BLOODSUCKER - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp? ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, blood kink, gojo has fangs, biting, marking, bloodsucking, fingering (f!receiving), swearing, semi-public sex, sex against a car, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, baby), ✴︎ wc: 2,704

“Can I have a bite?” He whispers, lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending a warm flush down your body — and why did he smell so intoxicating?

The night had gone on normally enough — yet another Halloween party you had been dragged to (after you had lost a bet and ended up being the designated driver for the evening) in another coordinated themed costume — this time for the Barbie movie. Yet another throng of costumed drunks and weirdos you had to wade through while your friends had their fun. And you thought the night would be boring.

Oh, you were so wrong.

He saw you first. You were only sure of that, after, because you remembered the prickling of your skin when his ice blue irises had found you lounging in the loft area upstairs — where most people had begun to clear out of after the keg had arrived downstairs. You had let your hair out of your wig, your head aching from the weight of the hair on your head and the cheap elastic band trying to work its way into your forehead.

You unlocked your phone, looking at yourself in your camera, pouting at the state of your hair — unkempt and unruly from the wig, but you only could do what you could.

“Great, now I can be a scary Barbie,” you murmur, locking your phone, as you pocket it.

“Oh, you’re not scary,” and your head snaps up, eyes finding those pools of still blue that looked like you could drown in them — and you very well would. His lips were curled in a small smile, his skin looked pale in the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing you be a little scary,”

“Satoru,” your lips twist, fuck, you thought he’d never show up to this party — you had avoided him flawlessly since your breakup — if you could even call it that. You never official — you were never anything, just a situation that was more than a booty call, but less than a relationship. Every invitation was only accepted with assurance and recon that Satoru would not attend, every exit strategy was planned, and every move was carefully made.

Except this one.

“Oh, you recognize me?” he gasps in mock surprise, lips in that shit eating grin you had loved to kiss off of him, but now, all it did was make you want to slap him, “surprised you did after you’ve avoided me for so long, sweetheart,”

“And apparently you’re the one with brain damage because we broke up — don’t call me that,” you sigh, eyes glancing down at his outfit — a black and white suit with a high collar, as his mouth moved as he spoke, you caught sight of fangs on his teeth, and his eyes glinted with a crimson tint dipped in an ocean of blue, “your costume is fitting — you definitely did suck the life out of our relationship,”

“Bitter doesn’t suit you, baby,” your eye twitches, as he dares closer, eyes glinting in the low light of the kitchen, “plus y’know, you always did the best sucking,”

Your traitorous cheeks flush, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes betray you by flickering downwards, “fuck off—“

“Oh, I know you want me to fuck something — don’t think it’s off though,” he looms closer, licking his lips, as he smiles — and your heart forgets to beat — did he always smell this good? He smelt of musk, wood, and everything warm and honeyed — the scent melted over you, plying your resistance with sweetness in contrast to his vulgarity, “look at you, haven’t even touched you and you’re so pliant, where’s that mouth now?” And his thumbs drag down your lips, pulling at the bottom one — “looks better wrapped around my cock, doesn’t it?”

And his words snap you from your trance, slapping his hand away, “didn’t expect an apology from you, but I thought you’d do better than this shit,”

“Can you blame me for missing you, pretty?” He pouts, “thought you loved me more than that,”

“And I thought you loved me enough to commit but looks like we both are wrong,” you roll your eyes, “go find someone else to fuck with, Gojo,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Aw, baby, don’t act so unfamiliar, you had my dick in you after all, you can still call me Satoru,” and then there’s a cheer in the living room that cuts off your retort, as he turns to look.

And that’s your cue to leave, you slip away from him, grabbing your jacket, making an Irish exit, slipping through the throng of people partying. You manage to get down the street, the streets quiet now, the sounds of the party growing more distant by the second. A sense of dread settled over you the more you walked, forming a lump in your throat and a pit in your stomach. The streetlights flickered above you, the wind cutting through your jacket as you pulled it closer around you. Your car was close, right past this wooded backyard, trees lining what seemed to be an abandoned home. There was only a few more yards — and then you heard a twig snap — your head snapped around to look behind you.

And that was your mistake.

A hand clamped over your mouth, as you gasped against it, another tight around your middle, your scream was muffled against the palm. And then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Boo,” before he lets you go, and you whirl around, smacking Satoru against his chest, hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your heart was pumping, hard, nearly banging against your ribs, body still shaking with adrenaline, “what the fuck - that’s not fucking funny,”

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny — it was supposed to be spooky,” he grins, unaffected by your anger, as your fingers clench into fists, “you didn’t give me a treat so I had to play a trick. It’s the rules of Halloween, pretty,”

“It wasn’t spooky, it was fucking scary—“ you move to hit him again, and he catches your hand by the wrist, and he’s pulling you close, “let me go, Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects, his fingers caressing your cheek, and you feel your knees knocking together, the world shifting beneath your feet, “I’m sorry for frightening you, sweetheart,” and he’s helping you walk over to your car, “just wanted to make sure you get to your car safely,”

Why were you letting him help you? Why was your body leaning against his? Why were you letting his arm slink around your waist, fingers squeezing your hip? But those same questions sunk away into the inky abyss of your mind, as thoughts blurred over each other, and all you can think about was him.

“Satoru,” you murmur, as you stumble against him, and he catches you by your waist, steadying you, “I don’t know what’s wrong,” your head rests against his chest, but you felt so comfortable, so…content.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” he purred, his words only intoxicated you further, drizzled like melted molasses down your throat, “that spook I gave you earlier really took it out of you, but,” his fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes finding yours — and they glowed, a shiny blue that unnerved you, “should I show you something really scary?”

“Satoru, what—“ and he’s kissing you, lips sliding against yours — he tastes familiar, hint of candy corn that he was always a fiend for, but he tastes even sweeter than that, headier too — before he parts, “what are you doing?”

“Showing you just how much I missed you,” he hums, thumb gliding over the length of your cheek, “y’know how hard it was for me without you? Wouldn’t be able to sleep. I could only think about how I had screwed thing up. Would take these long walks at night when I couldn’t sleep,” and his fingers trace down your jawline, before reaching your neck, his thumb resting against your pulse, “turns out those walks were good for one thing,”

“And what’s that?” You murmur, still utterly distracted by his touch.

And he brushes his lips against your neck, teeth grazing against your pulse, “Finding a way to keep you — forever,” and his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, as his arms press your body to his, your hands sliding up his chest, caged in by his form, “can I have a bite?” he whispers, lips against your ear now, sending a flush across your cheeks, “just wanna mark you again, like i used to, make you mine,”

For a moment, the curtain snaps back, mask slipping, as your eyes flutter open without the rosy glasses he had slipped over your eyes, “I’m not yours,” and you only see him — the true him — for a moment.

His muscles tighten, fingers digging into your sides harshly, gripping your flesh hard enough to bruise, his gaze is dark, navy instead of the usual cerulean with a ring of red that pierces through your skin, but his teeth — his teeth scare you the most — his fangs aren’t fake, his tongue sliding against them both, as he flashed an unnerving smile at you that sends your blood running cold.

But not colder than his.

“Satoru — what—“ and his lips find yours again, sending a headiness throughout your body, from your head to the tips of your toes, “I-“

“Just let me have this, just this one night,” he murmurs, words as smooth as glass and as needy as need itself, “please,”

And you’re the one pulling him to you, back against the cool metal of your car, and your fingers cup his face, pulling him against your lips. He tastes like want, his tongue parts your lips, as his fingers slide up your dress, sending goosebumps up your thighs, “Fuck, all it takes for you, huh?” He murmurs, and his fangs nibble at your bottom lip making you gasp, pressing wet kisses down your jaw, until he reaches your neck.

“Been thinking about this for far too long, sweetheart,”

two fingers drag down your neck first, as he tilts your head for easy access, and you shiver at his touch — was he colder than before? “I’m going to be doing a lot more than marking you like I did before,” his lips press a delicate kiss to your neck, “need to taste it,”

And his fangs drag over your soft flesh, before he finally bites you. Your mouth hangs open in a sharp gasp as his fangs pierce your skin, and your head lolls back, as pleasure floods your body. You feel your warm blood dripping from your neck, slipping down your skin, as he sucks from you.

He pulls away for a moment to look at you, your scarlet blood dripping from his mouth, painting his pale pink lips burgundy, as his tongue darts out to catch the blood slipping down your chin.

“You taste like everything to me,” he murmurs, pressing his nose against the nape of your neck, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, aren’t you?”

You whimper, “Satoru, feels so good,” and he’s kissing you again, letting you taste your own blood on his lips, it only makes you want him even more. But this isn’t right, something wasn’t right—

“Just give in, sweetheart,” he’s dragging your hands down your sides, squeezing your hips, as his palms rest under your thighs, “let me make you feel good,”

And he lifts you, guiding your legs to wrap around your waist, as his large palm slides up your thigh, hiking your dress up. He grins, looking at your soaked panties, thumb pressing against your puffy clit, making you gasp and squirm, “wonder if you taste even sweeter down here, baby?”

You whine louder, as his fingers slide into the waistband of your underwear and snaps it against your skin, “Your blood is pumping harder than ever, bet it tastes even better like that — full of your fear, full of your pleasure,” his fingers are sliding your drenched panties down, “fuck, you’re a little freak, bet you got wet when I grabbed you, can’t all be from the last few minutes,”

And his lithe finger sinking into you, as your lips part in a gasp as he bullies your walls, “So tight for me,” he groans, as his finger curls against you, making you moan, and his teeth graze against your neck, before sinking in. You both moan in tandem, as he drinks more of your blood, as a second finger parts into your folds, your release dripping down his palm. He’s stretching you out — fingers pistoning in and out, Pleasure courses up and down your body, toes curling, as all you can hear is the sucking of his fangs and the squelch of his fingers in your cunt.

And then he hits that spot, and you’re cumming, slick dripping down your thighs as you moan, as your hips move against his fingers, riding out your orgasm. He pulls your fangs from your neck, letting your blood drip down your neck.

He tilts your head back, letting him look at your fluttering eyelashes and fucked out expression, lips parted, as your blood paints your skin a beautiful maroon.

“So fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” he’s pulling his fingers from you, as you gasp from the emptiness. He places them in his mouth, cleaning them of your release, “think I may get addicted baby, gotta have more of you — doesn’t matter if it’s your blood or your cum,”

And you hear the clink of your belt buckle and sound of his zipper, as he frees his cock, rubbing against your dripping pussy, “Gonna let your ex fuck you against your car? Gotta have you baby, but if I take you now, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you go,” he’s teasing the head of his cock against your pussy lips, “do you still want me to do it?”

You whine, back arching against the hard surface of the car, “please, I need you,” your fingers wrap around his neck, his lips against yours, “Satoru—“

And he’s sinking his cock into you, as he’s lifting your legs to your ears, ankles by his ears as his hips flush against your ass, “Fuck, can you feel me kissing the deepest part of you?” His hips roll into you now, slowly at first, again and again, as your walls throb around him, the car groans and your ankles ache against his slow thrusts, “best cunt I’ve ever had, and all fucking mine now,”

“Toru, please, more—“

And he barks a laugh, sweat slipping down your forehead, his balls slapping against your ass, “so needy f’me, you’re mine aren’t you? Say you’re mine,” he’s grunting as your walls flutter around him, and he knows you’re close—

Your orgasm washes over you, toes curling, and he leans forward, fangs sinking into you, as he fucks you through it. The blood he drinks makes your head dizzy with pleasure, until he pulls away, letting your blood drip from his lips. And he’s grunting, hips stuttering as he bottoms out — making you gasp and whine again. Until he’s cumming inside you, painting your walls white, emptying his load into you. He’s fucking his cum inside your cunt.

And he’s easing your legs down as the two of you come down, his face buried in the nape of your neck, licking at the blood dripping from his bites — your neck beginning to ache and sting now.

“So pretty, so perfect,” he coos, his lips curling still red from your blood, as he’s curling his arms around your waist, “gotta take you home so I can taste you all over again.”

“No, I can’t. This was a one time thing—“

And he’s tilting your chin up, eyes flashing dangerously, as his lips curl, “I told you, I’m not going to let you go, besides,” he turns your head towards your rear view mirror, your eyes beginning to glint red, “I have to let you have a bite of me later,” and you can feel your blood run cold, “it’s only fair, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

✴︎ a/n: was possessed to write this by the halloween spirits -- also i have a thing for bloodsucking now unfortunately. have a spooky season :)

✴︎ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @happymangospot, @hiimarandin, @bunsunee, @5-xiaoo,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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transformers-synergize · 4 months

Note

Do you have any more stuff for Sunny & Sides? Your designs for them are some of the best I've seen, and I'd love to know more about your plans or headcanons for them!

No pressure ofc, I support you and your absolute galaxy brain :D

Sure, here is a bunch of random stuff about in no particular order, lot of this stuff was just pulled from my notes but whatever lol

Sunstreaker is egotistical, he knows he is the best and makes sure everyone knows it too. He also has the skills, looks, and combat prowess to back it up. Sunstreaker only really cares about himself and Sideswipe, considering pretty much every bots below him or not worth his time. He often makes sly comments, belittling or cracking jokes about bots whom he deems lesser. His friends are either Sideswipes friends who can tolerate him or bots who think he's cool, which is usually due to factors outside his personality. He's always down for a good fight, being ruthless and downright merciless in combat while still somehow managing to get as little dirt, energon, or other various combat filth on himself as possible, sometimes being nearly spotless after a battle aside from the energon coating his blade. Sunny likes to keep himself in good condition, making sure his paint is perfect and his polish shines, it really helps accentuate how he's the best.

Sideswipe is the nicer of the two brothers. He's outgoing and usually pretty friendly. Sideswipes is always looking for a fight. He loves the thrill of combat. He often treats serious situations more like a game than the high-danger situations he often places in. Sideswipe often can't sit still and always need something to do, and if there is nothing fun to do then he will make his own fun, he is often sparring with his fellow Autobots, trying risky stunts, pulling pranks on other bots and generally just causing chaos. He's very impulsive, often doing the first thing that comes to mind because he thought it might be fun, never considering the consequences. He's kinda like a jock who treats war like a sport with an almost ruthless approach to combat. He often tenses and banter with other autobots, sometimes making jokes at their expense, but unlike Sunny, he usually knows when to stop or when he's gone too far.

info dump bellow↓↓↓

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both emerged during the Autobot Decepticon war and never known peace times. They are the youngest of the crashed Autobots, both being around a thousand years old, which is very young when your species can live to their hundred thousands.

Twins are what happens when a shuttle-sized spark splits into two, so before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker split, their emerging was highly anticipated because shuttles are rare and extremely powerful, but their spark ended up splitting. When they finally emerged, it was a great disappointment.

they were mentored by Inferno and, to a lesser extent, his conjux Redalert (they are one of the many reasons for Redalerts anxiety). Sideswipe has a pretty good relationship with his mentors Sunny… not so much

Sunny hates Earth, it's filthy it's wet it's squishy it's sticky it's too hot, at least compared to Cybertron's frigid temperatures, and its dominant species are nothing but a pain he hates he has to hide his existence from the stupid inferior fleshy creatures that rule this dirtball of a planet he hates how often on missions he has to have a fleshy human chaperone to perform basic task that he could easily do himself or wouldn't be a problem if humans just didn't exist. Whichever bot or bots are on a mission with Sunny where human help is required, the other bot will always be the one transporting the human because Sunny refuses to let a human inside of him.

Sideswipe likes Earth, there so much to see it his first time being anywhere without the war consent looming present of the great war, but having to hide all the time on Earth is frustrating, he's been able to seek out and do some street races without Prowl knowing, he likes quite a lot of human stuff human music is pretty good and he like some human tv shows and movies mostly the ones with a lot of actions and explosion, he like interacting with the humans he's allowed to interact with especially Carly and Raoul, thought Sideswipe often struggles to understand how fragile humans are and often can put them at risk without even knowing it. Sideswipe is still a little homesick for Cybertron, even if he's only ever known it as a war-torn mess.

their poses often mirror each other

Sunny tells Sideswipe to smile with his mouth closed because his split beak.

Sunny is the decision-maker of the two, and though Sideswipe may make destinations for himself on his own as a pair, Sunny always has the final say.

Sunstreaker hates Sideswipe stickers but gave up on trying to remove them because whenever he tried, he got his claws sticky.

Sunstreaker and Tracks have a bit of a rivalry going on, though Tracks hates Sunstreaker more than Sunstreaker dislikes Tracks. Also, Sunny usually comes out as the victor of most of their little spats.

Sideswipe pulls pranks but doesn't dare prank Sunstreaker because he knows there will be hell to pay if he messes up his brother's paint job.

sideswipe loves to cause chaos, Sunny often help

Sunny has some artistic talent, though he doesn't use it much

Sunstreaker always makes sure his frame is clean and in near-perfect condition. Sideswipe doesn't care as much but Sunny, make sure Sideswipe keeps up to a certain standard.

Sideswipe is very extroverted, loves interacting with other bots, and will talk to basically anyone. Sunny is more introverted and prefers to keep to himself and select bots. Sunny tries to encourage his brother not to hang out with bots he considers not good enough to be associated with them which is most bots.

-----------------

As for plans for them, I like keeping what I share plot-wise pretty vague. They appear pretty early on, and they both are pretty plot-important. I don't really care about spoiling characters who appear in the first seven chapters. After that, I'm a little more sneaky and vague about who will appear.

#Sunstreaker #sideswipe #raoul #dont tag as ship #transformers fan continuity #transformers #tfs #transformers synergize #art post #ask answering #sunny #raoul lopez #sunstreaker is pretty controlling #his brothers images is a part of his image or atleast thats how sunny sees it #yes i call their teeth beaks instead of denta since the top and bottom pice are solid pieces without Individualt teeth #cybertronian have beaks kinda like squids #sideswipe naturally formed with a split beak #thank you happy ya like them so much #realized i left one my draft notes on here asaaaaa

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liyawritesss · 3 months

Text

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

-> synopsis: what would life be like to love the worlds baseball darling and secret superhero Ultraman, Kenji Sato?

-> pairing: kenji sato + black!gn!reader

-> from: ultraman: rising

-> contains: pure fluff, gender neutral, mentions of emiko and emi, 2nd person ('you', 'your', 'yours')

-> a/n: these animators need to stop making these kid movies with fine ass main characters bc whyyyyyyy is he so cute??? why do i wanna baby him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay? LET THIS MAN KNOW PEACE PLEASE!!!

-> join my taglist!

-> tags: @badass-dora-milaje @uranometrias @lees-chaotic-brain @jacuzziwaters

Kenji Sato who loves loves loooooovveeesss those subliminal couples pictures. The ‘private but not secret’ ones. They’re so aesthetically pleasing to him and they allow him to show you off to the world while still maintaining an air of privacy that he cherishes deeply from the media. Kenji is proud to call you his, and wants to show that in all ways possible.

Kenji Sato who is heavy on the couples jewelry. He’s already got a couple of notable pieces in his collection beforehand, and they only expand when you come into his life. In fact, the speculations of his love life come from the fact that people were noticing that he was wearing pieces from brands that were specifically designed for couples. Of course, when asked about it, he never goes into depth about it, and just recites how he thinks they look nice on him…and on someone else.

Kenji Sato who introduces you to his mom only after he’s sure that he wants to be serious with you. I have a feeling Emiko is the type of mom to get attached to their child’s partner in the sense of already viewing them as part of the family very early on, and Kenji wouldn’t want to get her hopes up if something were to happen - he can’t stand to see his mom upset. But when he does introduce you to his mom, you two become the best of friends! So definitely expect to be sent on girls day adventures by Kenji, cuz he’ll definitely be treating the two most important women in his life like royalty.

Kenji Sato who requires a lot of patience to deal - I mean, the man has a lot going on. Being the number one baseball player in the world, saving Japan from threats as Ultraman, and caring for the large kaiju baby Emi is more than a lot on anyone's plate. Kenji’s gonna need someone to understand that his schedule is never solid, and plans may fall through from time to time, and thats not because he’s not trying, but it’s because spontaneity runs his life and things can change at the drop of a hat, out of his control. It’s not the life he asked for, but it’s one he must take on.

Kenji Sato who doesn't exactly know how to bring up the topic of him being Ultraman, much less about Emi, early on in the relationship. I mean, how often do you tell someone that you're Japan's legendary hundred-foot tall superhero or that you're the surrogate parent to a twenty foot tall baby dragon kaiju? As much planning that he does on telling you, it ultimately happens in the worse way possible - you end up finding him mid-transition with Emi in tow...now that's gonna be an interesting story to tell. Spoiler: you stay with him, but now he's subjected to jokes about how is ego isn't the only thing that blows up to an enormous degree.

Kenji Sato who appreciates a partner that can not only deal with spontaneity, but is also rather spontaneous themselves. Surprise dates, random gifts, adventurous propositions out of the blue, I think those kind of things are right up his alley. He’s learned to live life in the moment and to the fullest, because it can be taken from you within an instant, and he wants to cherish every moment he has with you.

Kenji Sato who would spend his money on you religiously. He’ll sit in the dressing room with you as you try on armfuls of clothes, only to hand you his credit card at the end of the haul with a kiss to your temple, encouraging you to buy it all if you desire. And don't let you look at something too long in a display window, because he will have it shipped to your address in two business days. Endless trips post-baseball season in secluded locations so that the two of you can optimize the privacy you desperately crave.

Kenji Sato who’s a little bashful and nervous in the beginning, but eases into the relationship as time goes on. He doesn’t wanna mess up something so good that he has going on. Opening up takes some time, as he’s got some high walls that are hard to climb, but once you do get him to open up and bare his heart to you, don’t take it for granted. He doesn't do this to everyone, only the people he feels will truly return the care and compassion he has - so don’t prove him wrong.

Kenji Sato who seeks your comfort in the middle of the night when sleep evades him, leaving him restless and anxious. Most times, its about his mom and her disappearance, a mystery that's never left his mind. If you don't wake up to find him sitting up in bed deep in thought, or trying to tire himself out in a simulation, he finds comfort in just cuddling you, admiring your sleeping form, and talks about the most random things until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

Kenji Sato who’s sort of in between the serious lover and the playful lover - he’s maturing in his emotions and how to deal with his past, learning how to communicate better and express himself healthily. Simultaneously, he’s a goofball and a jokester reliving a bit of his childhood in his love with you. Playful banter, jokes and teasing are equally as present as the late night talks and the deep conversations the two of you share.

Kenji Sato who tucks the chain that has his promise ring on it close to his chest, and on game days, rubs his thumb over the gold band for comfort and assurance before he heads up to bat. During championships, he'll ask you to kiss it for good luck, and when he wins, he of course accredits it to you being his 'good luck charm'.

Kenji Sato who loves deeply and fervently, with compassion and the entirety of his heart, who will do his duty and love you unconditionally an proudly while shielding you from the cruel and prying eyes of the public, letting you know time and time again that it will always be you he chooses, no matter what.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #ultraman #ultraman rising #kenji sato #sato kenji #ultraman ken #kenji ultraman #ken sato #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x you #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x black!reader #ken sato x black!reader

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hyunsvngs · 1 year

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.6k words

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses, no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet petnames, ANGST, fluff!!, smut warnings under the cut

synopsis: your childhood best friend, the prince lee felix, is due to be betrothed in an arranged marriage organised by his mother. the problem is, you’re her top choice - and you’re also secretly madly in love with him.

a/n: our first fic on the blog!! if anyone has any questions or any thoughts to share with me please feel free. this fic is my baby and i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dryhumping, use of petnames in bed, no actual sex!!, soft cutie felix except nsfw!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd loved Lee Felix since the day you met him.

Of course, your brain had always convinced you that he was unattainable. You weren't without status, so to speak - your mother was famously known as the Queen's lady-in-waiting, and it was through her job that you'd had the pleasure of meeting the two princes, Felix and his elder brother Chris. You and Felix had clicked instantly. You had no other siblings yourself, and your father had died in the army when you were a baby, leaving your mother widowed and you without one of your intended parental figures.

Felix had taken that all in his stride, though. The day he met you he stumbled up to you with the grace of Bambi's first movement on ice, all short chubby limbs flailing everywhere and eyes formed in crescent moons with the size of his smile. Chris had taken less interest in you. Although polite, he was three years older than the both of you and already had his own group of friends, but you and Felix hadn't even started formal education yet - and you were inseparable as soon as you met. You were enchanted by him, he had been your first crush, and your first love once you were old enough to understand what that was.

You began your life as a shy, timid little girl, just as clumsy as your best friend. Your knobbly knees were always bruised and scarred, peeking out from the tops of your white knee socks and covered in whatever bandages Felix could find to wrap around you. Felix had brought you out of your shell, introduced you to some of his other 'friends' - at the start, they were just kids with similar status to him, but they really did form a tight knit group eventually. Now, you were known to always be by the side of Felix and his group, getting up to whatever secret debauchery you could manage that wouldn't risk any of your positions in society. Your mother, thankfully, had turned a blind eye to most of it, and the Queen was always too occupied to notice.

When you were younger, you and Felix loved to go out gallivanting. You'd stumble to the nearest beach, bags of towels and books in your canvas bags and giggle as you threw them on the sand. You had some form of an unofficial book club, just the two of you. You saw him practically all day everyday, but you'd both discussed and had decided to designate a Saturday afternoon to discuss whatever books you'd found in the extensive palace library and you both avoided any and all kinds of book talk on any other day in the week. The beach had become your place to gush over whatever literature had caught your attention, with the calming waves of the sea crashing behind you and the tweeting of whatever birds had made an appearance that day.

Now, though, you were both of age. You were both twenty one, and that meant that marriage was around the corner for Felix. He'd been so busy lately, you'd barely had the chance to see him. You took upon completing mundane tasks of your own, helping your mother with anything the Queen asked for (much to her polite gratitude, but she definitely knew why you were sulking around), and sometimes you even helped the cooks make food for the whole palace. Felix had teased you relentlessly once he'd seen you in your white frilly apron and you'd had to chase him out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon.

It was weird not having your best friend around so much. Chris was already married, being the heir to the throne, despite the fact there were rumours he would abdicate to Felix. Felix hadn't told you anything about that, and you were sure he would have. Even Chris leaving had left a hole in your heart - no more seeing his muscly eye-candy group of friends around. Well, they still showed up uninvited sometimes. You were pretty sure Changbin and Jisung were never actually invited, not even by Chris, but they lingered around him like they were his little brothers, too.

"Hey, you've been making that daisy chain for like, twenty years," A familiar giggle chimed from above you, and you looked up. Ah yes, your Prince. You'd gotten so lost in memories that you'd been wasting a Saturday afternoon with him. Fuck, you're such an idiot. Felix was looking down at you in your position in his lap, your head nestled on top of his crossed legs in the dress slacks he was supposed to wear everyday. He was wearing a white silk shirt on top of it, billowing in the summer breeze, but the top two buttons were still undone due to the heat of the sun. The summer always made your Prince's freckles shine more on his tan skin, the fawn dots even extending to the exposed skin on his chest. Needless to say, you waited impatiently for the hot season to come around every year. His teeth were gleaming in his smile, radiating sunshine and the gleam bouncing off of the bleach blonde mullet he'd managed to convince his mother to let him have.

You had to deflect. He couldn't know you were upset at not seeing him, although you were nearly certain he must have worked it out already. You shrugged dismissively, looking back at the daisy chain in your hands. Your thumbnails were stained with green from the plant stems, but you were still determined to finish it. You were making it for him, as a crown, because you knew he'd keep it until the flowers wilted, and then he'd get the flowers pressed and he'd put them in his scrapbook. He was such a good friend. His scrapbook was full of mementos of the two of you, even sometimes extending to the whole group - you and Felix, your friends, and Chris and his friends. It was mostly full of just the two of you, though.

"Sorry, Lixie. I guess I'm not all there today. Sorry," You mumbled. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying about Rochester and how he's a possessive asshole- no, you know what, that's not important. What's on your mind, sugarplum?" The cheesy nickname worked exactly how he intended it to, making you giggle and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nudged his tummy softly with your elbow, the silk brushing against your skin and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Felix dog-eared the page of the book that he was reading from and shut it softly, placing it beside you both. It was one habit of Felix's that you absolutely hated - like, how could he sleep with a clear conscience knowing that he had creased the delicate pages of so many classics? You'd given him so many bookmarks over the years, even personalised ones that you'd crafted in your spare time with both of your names on, but he always lost them or claimed he'd forgotten them in your book club outings. He leaned back on his palms, smiling down at you fondly. You shifted, turning slightly to see him better. You felt the soft cotton of the navy and white plaid picnic blanket brush against the bottom of your bare legs. You weren't really allowed to wear short skirts, or low cut tops, but on a summer's day like this you were permitted to wear a knee length skirt, so long as it was a thick fabric. Nothing too revealing was allowed.

You hummed in response to him, finding him still staring at you. "You want me to be honest, Pixie?"

Felix giggled at his own cheesy nickname, then nodded eagerly, strands of hair falling over his face before he pushed them back. His forehead had a thin sheen of sweat adorning it. "I always want you to be honest with me."

You ignored the butterflies causing a storm in your stomach over the statement. He was so understanding, so sweet - he always had been, like when he would bandage up your scraped knees or comfort you when something went wrong in your favourite TV show. He was even understanding during one of your many nights of debauchery, when you'd all been playing Seven Minutes in Heaven like the horny teenagers you were and you'd been picked to go in with Felix. You'd been bright red, stuttering and giggling nervously about how you'd never had your first kiss and Felix understood, rubbing your arm softly with his dainty hand and insisting you didn't have to do anything that you weren't ready for. You were so embarrassed, but he made you feel so at ease, and you'd both sat in the storage closet and gossiped about Chris instead.

That was the moment you'd fallen in love with him, you think. You were fifteen.

"I'm worried," You admitted, finally letting the flower chain drop from your fingertips and onto your tummy. Felix instantly shot up. His smile had fallen, and he was now looking at you with a concerned look, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The butterflies started fluttering even faster, if it was possible. You looked up into his brown eyes, and you looked at his freckles, thinking about the many times you'd tried to count every single one. This was your best friend. This was the love of your life. Your Prince, as you affectionately called him in your head. You could be honest with him. If you couldn't, who could you be truthful with? "I'm worried because I know you're getting married soon. We barely see each other as it is anymore, and I miss you, to be honest. It will be soon, won't it?"

Felix hummed. He nodded thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the daisy chain on your tummy. You saw a small smile at the end of his lips as his fingers brushed over it. He knew it was for him. He'd made you many over the years, too, and you'd kept them in your own scrapbook, despite it being much emptier than his. "It will be soon. My mother is picking the right candidate at the moment. But..."

You furrowed your eyebrows. He hadn't looked back at you, still gazing at the daisy chain and beginning to rub reassuring circles on your side. "... But?"

The smile finally formed on his lips. "You do realise you're her top option, right?"

You shot up from his lap, eyes widening. Felix bit his lip, holding in a laugh. He was laughing at you, that bastard, but it did make sense. You were the Queen's favourite, and she knew how close you and Felix were. She wasn't a nasty or a ruthless Queen. She was a people person, she always donated money to charity and the homeless rating in your country was literally almost zero. She'd done so much for people since she was in power, and she never cared about status - not that it had ever affected you, but she did treat everyone as her equals. She was like Felix in that way, a sweetheart, and she always permitted you and Felix to go on journeys wherever you wanted, so long as you kept safe and there was a guard in the area, just in case. There was one in the meadow with you now, but you couldn't even see them from where you were sitting. She was just... so cool, down to earth. She understood what it was like to be young, within reason.

You were flustered. Your brain had instantly gone to thinking of getting married to Felix, spending nights with him but not in the way you used to, and even... Well, you had to consummate the marriage, didn't you? You were extremely inexperienced in that department, save for a few drunken childish kisses with Chris' friend Changbin when you were just a bit younger, but you still found your mind racing and going through your deepest, darkest fantasies. Fantasies that you would never entertain outside of shoving a hand down your underwear in your bed at night and whining into the satin pillows. You had to hide that you were thinking about that, what the fuck is wrong with you? Time to deflect.

"Well, she does love me," You said boldly. Felix shook his head, punching you in the arm, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to because you let out a hiss and punched him back too hard, in the leg. His smile dropped, groaning and grabbing the spot on his shin where you'd hit him. "But, would you be okay with that, Lixie? It's... me. We'd be like... you know."

"Married? Well, yeah," Felix laughed, still holding his leg. You sighed, giving him a flat look. You needed to keep yourself occupied, so you picked up the daisy chain on the blanket and started to fiddle with it again, threading it through with nimble fingers. Felix finally let go of his leg, throwing himself onto his side so he was lying down on the blanket and facing you. He'd started to fiddle with the cover of the book. Another thing you were getting prepared to tell him off about. "I know what you mean. Honestly, though? I can't think of anyone better to do it with," You felt yourself suppressing a smile at his words, said lowly in that deep voice of his. Everytime he said something like that, your brain instantly went to shit, he liked me back, and you couldn't have that showing on your face when you knew deep down that wasn't the truth. He was unattainable- no, wait, now he wasn't that unattainable, now that you've actually stopped being angsty and depressing and actually thought about it. "I mean, you are my best friend, sugarplum."

You let out a fake laugh at his use of that stupid nickname again, and it seemed to placate him. Best friend. Yeah. Because one thing you hadn't thought about during your insane train of thought, one thing you had always considered and had been the main factor in not confessing to him, was that you couldn't risk ruining the friendship you had built up with him for sixteen years.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Unattainable. He was unattainable. You felt yourself mulling over that thought over and over as you paced in your bedchambers, in your silly Disney pyjamas that now barely fit you and you would never let anyone see. You had no one you could even talk to about this. It was clearly royal intel, secret information, and the only person you could have possibly talked to now never comes around anymore because Chris decided to get fucking married and now spends most of his time boning his wife for an heir. Or just because he likes boning her, you weren't sure, but Felix told you that he'd heard enough through the walls to know that boning was definitely occuring every night. Anyway, Changbin wasn't around much anymore, and he was your top confidant - bar Felix.

You liked living in the palace, but would you like living there as a Princess? Well, fuck yeah, obviously. It was like something out of The Princess Diaries, one of your favourite films which you and Felix had watched over and over. He hated it. You had a good, solid reputation. You were a high member of society due to your mother's job, and you and your mother were even placed on the royal side of the palace for your living quarters. You had a massive bedroom, an extravagant en suite with a relaxing bathtub and a sitting room with a huge TV that you and your mother always curled up in front of. How could it even get any better? You had seen Felix's room, when you were younger, but it kind of became unspokenly forbidden when you got to your teenage years, lest something gets out of hand. You understood it, actually. You'd been going through enough hormones to know that you had definitely come dangerously close to propositioning him a few times.

You had propositioned Changbin, obviously. You two had your first kisses together, and also a few drunken kisses, but you'd ended up as just friends. He was probably the only one who knew about your feelings for Felix, and he admitted you weren't his type anyway. You were sure he was in love with Felix's friend, Hyunjin, but you never commented on the way he looked at Hyunjin like he'd hung the stars in the sky. You couldn't really say anything either, knowing full well that you looked at Felix the same.

You needed to speak to Changbin. The unbearable amount of anxiety at not knowing was mounting in you. But it hit you, then, in the middle of your pacing and chewing on your thumbnail. You looked at the copy of Jane Eyre that Felix had given you, placed on your bed. Your mother knew. She had to have known you were a choice, surely, and she hadn't even told you?

You shook your head, resuming pacing. You couldn't blame her. Felix wasn't even meant to tell you. It made sense, though - you'd received pretty much the same education as a royal, and you and Felix were inseparable. You knew you had the etiquette, the social skills (thanks to Felix). You were pretty much a Princess without being a Princess. It had to be you, right?

Did you want it to be you?

You threw yourself onto your bed, wrapping the soft pillow around your head and screaming incoherently into the fabric. It didn't help. Who were the other choices? You thought of other girls who lingered around the palace, ones that had definitely had crushes on your Prince growing up and had given him fleeting glances with blushed cheeks and an agape mouth. None of their names even came to mind. Maybe a Princess from another country, for a marriage of creating alliances? You could see the Queen considering that. She was always very logical, but you also knew she had her son's best interests in mind. Chris had married a Princess from a different Kingdom, actually, but his marriage wasn't even arranged. He'd been in love with her since they were teenagers, and they could only meet once or twice a year in arranged legal meetings. You remember them having perhaps not so quiet dates together. Everyone knew, and when they announced their engagement everyone was happy but not surprised. Felix had taken too long to find a wife, and even the thoughtful Queen couldn't let that slide. People were asking questions, personal questions about his demeanour and whether he was off putting, and she couldn't deflect the questions for much longer.

You hadn't even noticed you'd drifted off, and you woke up to your face still smushed in the pillow. You immediately inhaled sharply upon waking up, taking in the light outside. You'd drooled all over your pillow, leaving a huge wet patch and your hair was knotted every which way, making you look like you'd been dragged backwards down the hedge. Damn. Thinking too hard has taken its toll on you, really.

A knock on the door made you spring up from your bed, smoothing down your hair with one hand, before another three knocks came in succession and you paused your movements. It was yours and your mother's secret knock - one knock, then three quick ones after. She'd seen you in worse states. Much worse states, even hungover states that you'd cried over while she held a bucket to your head and had promised to keep it a secret. You padded over to the door, opening it slightly just to make sure it was in fact, her. It was, obviously. Not even Felix knew your secret knock.

She came in and sat on the big armchair in front of the fire. Neither of you had said anything. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands. She finally looked at you, a kind look on her face.

"I have two things to say," She smiled. You loosened up a bit, realising that it was just your mother. She'd always been stuck by you. It had been only the two of you, after all. It was all you knew. You nodded, rushing over to sit cross legged in front of her like a child. "First of all, the Queen would like to meet with you in an hour. Second of all, you're seriously still wearing those Dumbo pyjamas? The legs aren't even long enough anymore, I can see your knees, they're meant to be trousers not shorts-"

You blinked owlishly. Her rant went in through one ear and out the other, before she realised you weren't listening. She sighed. You blinked again, pulling the ends of your pyjama trousers absentmindedly to try and make them longer. "The Queen... wants to meet with me?"

Your mother nodded. She wasn't giving anything away by her face, but she definitely knew. She knew. She knew what you were going to be told. God, why couldn't she just ignore her job duties for once and be a fucking mother? You chided yourself mentally, she was a great mother. But you were frustrated. You needed to know now, not in an hour!

"Just... just me, and her?" You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Your mother shook her head, fingernails picking at a loose thread on her skirt. She was avoiding eye contact. What the fuck is going on?

Oh God, it's not you, is it? Fuck.

"Felix will be there," Your mother stated. She jumped up sharply. "I'll help you pick an outfit, dear. Come." She beckoned you to the armoire in the corner and you followed dutifully.

Your mother began to flick through pieces of fabric hanging off of hangers, and you tried to ignore the anxiety now mounting again in the pit of your stomach.

You so badly wanted it to be you. Just for once, you wanted to be selfish.

An hour later, on the dot, you stood outside the main hall. It was where everyone - royalty and staff alike - ate food together. That was, again, one of the kind Queen's rules. It was also where her throne was, where she had meetings with people. You'd never been on the receiving end of such a formal meeting, but one of the Queen's maids had come and collected you from your room five minutes before the allocated time. You'd managed to run a brush through your hair, thank God, and your mother had put you in a baby blue pinafore dress that came down to mid-knee on top of a white long sleeved turtleneck. The turtleneck was far too warm for the weather, but you knew the Queen would appreciate the conservative outfit. You stared down at the Mary Jane's on your feet.

You shut your eyes, trying to control your breathing, before realising you really couldn't afford to be late. Maybe you'd fucked up and done something wrong. You raised your hand, knocking softly on the door, but it swung open with the small force of your knock. The Queen sat on her throne, flipping through the pages of a book. Your Prince stood behind her, leaning over the throne, pointing at certain pages and giggling. She was smiling fondly at the pages, rubbing her fingertips over certain ones and mumbling statements to her son. She'd began to age slightly, with wrinkles adorning her eyes and mouth, but she didn't look any less beautiful. She had long, dark hair and freckles, just like Felix, but her smile was as kind as Chris'.

Oh? They seemed happy, at least.

You cleared your throat. The Queen, her Majesty, looked up at you and smiled acknowledgingly, shutting the book on her lap. She beckoned for you to come in and you did a small curtsy before shuffling into the lavish room. You could smell the kitchen from here, and you knew the cooks were whipping up something fierce by the enticing smell of it. You hadn't had time to have breakfast, because you'd slept in, and lunch was still around two hours away. You hoped your stomach wouldn't grumble too loud as you eventually approached the throne.

Felix smiled at you. He was wearing a similar pair of dress slacks to yesterday, but this time his silk shirt was a baby blue, the Kingdom's colours. A silver chain rested on his neck and you took note of the earrings dangling from his ears - another impulse decision you'd both done when you were younger. You know Felix had gotten in trouble for it at first, but the Queen seemed to be buying him a lot of expensive earrings lately. She knew what it was like to be young, after all. You smiled back awkwardly, rubbing your sweaty hands on your pinafore. It was then you realised you were in the Kingdom's colours too. Very patriotic of your mother.

"You want some tea, sugarplum?" Felix's voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you winced at the nickname. In front of his mother? In front of the Queen? Seriously? Your eyes seemed to convey a similar message to him, a flat glare, but he simply giggled. You saw him pouring from a teapot into a dainty teacup, and reverted your eyes to the Queen. She was still looking down at the book in her lap, and you looked down at it in confusion.

It was the scrapbook Felix made for the two of you. It was full of pictures from when you were younger to now, full of cinema tickets from secret outings and full of pressed flowers. Some of your favourite book quotes had even made it into there, scrawled in both of your handwritings. Even your school graduation pictures were in there. You'd been sent to a private school for the upper society, obviously, but you still had a normal graduation - albeit small, and full of snobby people.

"Thank you for meeting me, your Majesty," You were babbling in awkwardness. Oh, God. It was like word vomit, you couldn't stop it. "I'm really glad to meet with you today. I'm just wondering, have I done something wrong? You never ask to meet me."

The Queen laughed, her eyes forming crescent moons exactly the same as Felix's. Felix appeared at your side then, handing you a small teapot with what looked like peach tea in it. Your favourite, because of course, your Prince remembers that. You awkwardly shifted on one foot to the other, taking small sips of the tea to try and cool your nerves and almost screaming because it was still scalding hot. Felix was trying to hold in a laugh beside you, you could tell without even looking at him. Bastard.

"You haven't done anything wrong, sweetheart," The Queen's voice was soft, and she was now looking at you, taking in your outfit. She nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, very sophisticated. I believe I've made the right choice."

Your cheeks burned red. No. Fucking. Way. "T-The right choice? Do you mean...?"

The Queen beckoned over one of her staff members and they scurried over in a similar manner to the way your mother would have done. They placed a box in her hands, a small black velvet box that looked like it could be opened seamlessly. A... ring box? "I apologise, sweetheart. I've kept you in the dark a little bit with all of this. Would you bring her a chair, dear? A comfortable one."

The staff member scuttled over to grab a small chair with a red pillow on top of it and placed it behind you. You looked to your left side, still in shock, and the staff member simply smiled and motioned to the chair. You muttered a thanks in acknowledgement and sat on the pillow. Damn, the chair was comfortable. Felix was still standing, watching you hold your teacup awkwardly in a sweaty hand. He looked like he was about to die of laughter. God, you hated him so much, but you also really didn't. He just loved to tease you.

Maybe he would in bed, too-

"So, as you probably know, our favourite boy hasn't found someone to court yet," The Queen began speaking once you were sat down. Felix groaned, and his mother simply laughed. "Hush, now, sweetheart."

"Mum, you said you wouldn't be mean-"

Their dynamics always amazed you. She took the piss out of him, to put it quite literally, but in such an eloquent manner it could be easily missed as them having a difficult relationship. They didn't. He was a mummy's boy, through and through. It was one of the things you loved about him. You could tell a lot about a man from the way he treated his mother.

"Felix, hush now," She admonished again, but the smile on her face didn't leave. Felix mumbled something and then went back over to the side to fiddle with the teapots. Good, he should feel awkward. You looked at her outfit, beautiful in an ornate sense, pearl clips pinning her long, dark hair up so you could see the freckles on her face that matched your Prince. "I took it upon myself to find Felix a bride. I hope you don't think I'm cruel for doing so, I do have my baby's best interests in mind."

Felix groaned, putting his face in his hands. "'M not a baby-"

"You always will be to me, sweetheart. But it was time to get you courting, to get you married. I couldn't do that when you're always gallivanting discussing books with this one now, could I?" Your cheeks burned. You started to stutter out an apology, but she held up a hand to stop you. "Nonsense, sweetheart. Your friendship is one I've always admired. You're inseparable, and it is lovely to see you both so happy. You know that I value your mother highly, also."

You nodded, grinning. You felt a bit more at ease at the praise. The tea had also cooled down slightly too, so you started to sip it again, ignoring the way Felix was intently watching you with an evil smile to see if you'd burn your tongue again.

"Then, I thought about it. I thought, well, I do value your mother extremely highly, and you've been very helpful as of late. Obviously, that is because this one isn't taking up all of your time again," She nodded her head towards Felix. It was such an informal motion that you laughed in shock, and she giggled, a chiming similar to Felix's laugh that shouldn't have come from a middle aged woman who was literally the top of society. You still weren't completely getting at what she was saying, but you were enjoying the conversation. It was just praise, praise, praise. Amazing. "So, I want to offer you something. I want you to know you can decline, and you and your mother will remain here in your current roles. It would make me very happy, however, if you agreed to marry Felix."

You blinked. Okay, yeah, you kind of knew that's what she was getting at, but still - coming out of her mouth you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes flitted to Felix, who was simply nodding at you in encouragement, eyes widened. He... what, had he convinced her with that scrapbook? He wanted to marry you? Ugh, he probably just wanted to marry you so he didn't have to marry someone he didn't know. He doesn't even know you like him like that. But... a little part of you wanted to be selfish. You scratch his back by not letting him marry someone he's not close with, and he scratches yours by at least pretending to be in love with you. Could you deal with that, though? The pretending?

You nodded in acknowledgement at what the Queen said, looking at your tea again. The tea leaves were floating around in the liquid, mocking you, as if saying you were so fucking dumb. Of course you were going to say yes. "Um... may I ask, your Majesty, what would happen if I said no?"

You refused to look at Felix. The Queen hummed, looking down at the box in her lap. Oh, that was a ring box, definitely. Funny, in a weird way. "Well, this way, if you got married, you'd be able to spend a lot of time together. You'd see each other a lot. You'd be happy. If you decline... I'd have to find someone else for him to-"

"I'll do it," You grimaced at cutting the Queen off, but you couldn't even bear to think of him with someone else. Instead of chiding you, she beamed from ear to ear, and Felix rushed over to you.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in for a hug. He felt so soft, all silk and soft skin, but you knew what was underneath that shirt. You'd seen it, and now you were definitely going to see everything else. He smelled of lavender and orange blossom, that expensive perfume he's always spraying on himself, but you could smell notes of the flowers in the meadow that were still left on his skin from yesterday.

Okay, yeah, you could get used to this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't get a proper engagement, but that was alright. You'd been given the ring pretty much straight away after your meeting, and when you'd got back to your room after lunch your mother was still there, but now she was gushing, almost bouncing off the walls.

The ring was beautiful. Even using that adjective felt like an understatement. It was clearly an heirloom, passed through generations. The gem in the middle was blue tourmaline, and whilst it matched the Kingdom's colour it was extremely rare - or so you thought, you weren't sure - and it was surrounded by a cluster of diamonds and placed on a thin gold band. You'd always dreamed of getting engaged, even letting yourself think about getting engaged to Felix sometimes, when you were feeling particularly selfish. You always thought it would happen on the meadow, or on your guys' beach that you'd had less time to go to these days because it was further out. You didn't think you wanted it to be pretty lavish, just you two, so you weren't that angry about just being given the ring and told to prepare for an outing with Felix later on. He was your safe place, and you did want to talk privately about the engagement, so you weren't too angry.

You thought about it a lot, looking down at the gem glinting in the light. Your mother had left, and you were now just sitting at your vanity staring at your own hand. The public knew who you were. They knew you were Prince Felix's best friend, and more than a few people had deemed you two as soulmates, people from a similar status who were bound to fall in love and get married. Now, it just felt very one sided. You knew you were in love with Felix, and you'd agreed to the marriage with little thought, but now you felt a bit anxious. How were you going to pretend not to love him when you had to sleep next to him every night? Or when you had to go on dates with him? The engagement would be formally announced tomorrow, with the outing tonight being specifically for you to wear the ring in the public's eye and for you two to dial up the romance and get people speculating. The engagement party was planned to take place tomorrow night after the announcement, with everyone important there.

It was a beautiful ring. You just weren't sure you could pretend any more. You were sick of pretending to just view him as a friend.

When the night rolled by, you'd dressed in something a bit cosier - not too warm, because the nights weren't getting cold much anymore. You'd switched your pinafore and long sleeve for a thin knitted jumper and some long linen trousers, throwing a long but light jacket on top. You had to look sophisticated, respectful even. You deemed you looked alright after tucking the jumper into the trousers and adorning a belt, and when you swung the door open to your room, Felix was stood there.

He'd also put on a thin jumper in lieu of his thin billowing silk shirts, but he still looked just as good in the blue cable knit staring you in the eyes. He'd even put on a long coat just like yours. It was like you were matching, but you hadn't intended to. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and you swore you'd never seen him look happier, not even when you'd moan in delight eating his homemade brownies or when you'd go sick after eating too many of said brownies because they were too good. His hair was neatly styled, pulled back in a stylish half up-half down ponytail, with a few strands dangling in his face.

"Hey, sugarplum," He spoke, voice low. You groaned, pushing him out of the doorway and leaving the room, shutting the door behind you. He laughed in delight at your annoyance and linked arms with you. It was then you noticed he had a flower in his hand - just one stem, but the meaning was enough to almost make you cry.

"Oh my God, Felix, is that-"

"Baby's breath," He unlinked his arm with you, passing the stem to you. When you two were younger, you'd been entranced by the baby's breath growing in your meadow and you'd both been determined it was the work of fairies. It was too beautiful to be normal, and you and Felix had collected them endlessly until there was basically none left. You called them fairy flowers, and that's sort of where Felix's nickname had come from - your mother had called him Pixie affectionately when he'd revealed that he really thought these flowers were part of a fairy's little garden. He pretended to hate it, but you know he secretly loved it when you called him that. Chris had told you.

"You remembered. We used to call them fairy flowers," You brushed your hand over the flower, grinning at the softness. Felix chuckled, whispering a 'yeah'. He quickly pinched the flower from you again, tucking it behind your ear. You quite literally swooned, smiling up at his own beaming face. It got a bit awkward for you then though, because you couldn't even pretend not to be in love with him now, before you're even married. You found yourself in a state of word vomit again. "Jeez, dial down the PDA, Romeo. We're not even outside yet."

You walked off, leaving Felix trailing after you laughing at your words. "'Jeez'? What are you, a frat boy? You need to stop reading fanfictions, you know," He slung his arm around your waist, leading you out of the palace grounds. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, but you leaned in closer to his touch. Tonight was meant to just be a late night walk, full of holding hands and perhaps acting like normal people getting some street food from a dodgy merchant that would give you a bad tummy for a few days. Once you'd left the ornate gates, with one of the guards waving you both goodbye, you started to walk down the street and into the busier part of town. The palace wasn't too far from the hustle and bustle of the city, because again, the Queen apparently loved to be normal. People came to the palace all the time and took pictures and whatnot, but they were never allowed into the actual building. That was too far, and a danger to security.

You both began to walk, feeling the much cooler breeze blow through your hair and rattle the petals upon your ear. It was a bit ticklish, but he'd put it there, so it was staying there. His arm stayed around your waist, but it was comforting. You'd done stuff like this a million times. You were both extremely affectionate and loved touch anyway, so it wasn't strange. Of course, it felt different. You were engaged to him now. You could like... kiss, and stuff. You felt like a high school girl kicking her legs and twirling her hair over her crush, but you decided you were going to allow it because you were still young, and still yet to have a lot of your firsts with someone.

Once you got to a street where there were a few people milling around, Felix motioned to a wooden bench on the side of the path. Overgrown moss and bushes wrapped around it, but it still looked quite cute. "Wanna sit down here for a bit? I think we should probably have a chat, you know. About everything," When you looked at him, he looked embarrassed for once, strange given his usual brazen nature. You found yourself wanting to comfort him, so you nodded, sitting down on the bench and smoothing your trousers down. He sat next to you, turning to face you on the bench and fiddling with the cuffs of his coat.

"Felix, are you okay about marrying me?" You blurted out. "I mean, I know you probably don't want to marry anyone else, but you won't even get the chance to try to get to know everyone. You're stuck with me."

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. His head snapped up to you. "Um, what the fuck? You're my best friend. I am absolutely okay with getting married to you."

Your chest heaved. You felt reassured, but still not completely relieved. "But... Lixie. We'll have to kiss. And we'll be sharing a bed. You know we have to consummate the marriage, right?"

There was that smirk on his face again. You regretted ever saying anything. "You've been thinking about having sex with me?"

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. You heard Felix chuckling next to you, his shoulders shaking the whole rickety bench. You finally looked up at him, punching him in the leg again. His laughter ceased as he yelped. Good, bastard. "You know what I mean, Lix. We are literally going to have to, or the marriage won't be like, real. Or something, I don't know."

"You do know, you know everything. You're smarter than me," Felix chided you. He sighed, leaning to put his head on your shoulder. "What are you actually worried about? Tell me."

"It's just..." You couldn't say it. But maybe you could, and phrase it differently. A conditional question, to answer the real question inside of you. "What if we fell in love?"

Felix hummed, shutting his eyes softly. "Then everyone would have been right about us."

"Y-You... you wouldn't mind it? What about our friendship?"

He rubbed his cheek against you comfortingly. "It would only be made better, sugarplum," He pulled back, grinning at you. Oh no. That smile meant a Dumb Felix comment was incoming. "Plus, I know you think I'm smoking hot, so-"

"Felix!" You whined. He stuck his tongue out at you cheekily, making you roll your eyes. You turned away from him, staring ahead at a large tree on the other side of the path.

"I mean, we are compatible. Would it be so bad?" He sounded insecure now. You looked at him. His eyes were gleaming from the moonlight, and he did look really nervous. Perhaps... he wants to know if you'd hate him if either of you caught feelings. He wants to know if you think it would ruin your friendship. Honestly? After that conversation, you didn't. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. He stuck his tongue out again, trying to lighten the mood, and you did it back. You both had a fit of giggles afterwards, hitting each other while laughing like you always do.

Then, you saw it. A distinctive flash of a camera behind Felix, towards the end of the path. Oh, yeah, you're meant to be like, loving it up right now. You grabbed Felix's arm, pulling him in.

"Wh- wha-"

You brought his ear to your mouth, looking down at it and whispering. "There's a reporter taking pictures behind you. Don't look, but we should probably be more affectionate."

Felix pulled away, nodding solemnly. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he spoke, then a lightbulb going off. "Kiss me."

"H- Huh?!"

"Or, I'll kiss you, I don't mind. But that would really prove a point, wouldn't it? So caught up in each other that we forget royal etiquette?" He'd leaned back more comfortably on the bench, slinging an arm behind you. His fingertips were dancing up your shoulder as you were turned to face him, faces only inches apart. You licked your lips. He licked his own. The flash appeared again. Oh, the reporter liked that.

"Felix... I don't know-"

"I know it's not your first kiss, sugarplum. Can't back out of kissing me now," You internally groaned at the mention of him knowing what you and Changbin had done. Fuck Changbin, stupid blabbermouth. Felix was smirking, looking at you.

"Fuck it. As long as it won't be awkward?"

"We're gonna have to kiss a lot more, may as well kiss now," He shrugged. You shrugged. He was right. Eventually, you nodded. His fingertips carried on tracing shapes on your shoulder - you managed to make out a flower, a heart, maybe even a cat's head. Or a dog's head, you weren't sure. His other hand went up to your chin, fingertips coming to lift your head up to be closer to him once again. His eyes went to yours, a silent question in those deep brown eyes, and you nodded in response.

With that, you were being kissed by your first love. Your one sided love, to be precise, but you actually couldn't find it in you to care. You didn't even realise the camera flashing repeatedly as you pressed your lips against his, a chaste but open mouthed kiss. His lips were extremely soft, and you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned in to get more. He obliged, hand now going to the back of your head to bring you in further. You whimpered at the dominance the grab showed, and he let out a sharp breath of air through his freckled nose in response. You wanted more, so much more. Your lips pressed against each other over and over, a little messy but you liked it like that. Just as you tried to get your tongue against his, he gently pulled away, with one more small peck to your nose.

You were embarrassed when you realised you'd tried to follow him for more kisses. You quickly avoided eye contact, and Felix elbowed you.

"Look at me!" He whined for attention. Ah yeah, same old Felix. You'd forgotten what he was like in that ten second kiss. He still had issues with wanting to be the centre of attention. You looked at him awkwardly, fists clenched in your sweaty palms. You almost felt bad the beautiful ring had to live there. Once you'd looked at him, his sad face fell and he smirked. "Good, huh?"

"W-Was I... good? I've only ever kissed Changbin," You admitted, grimacing. Felix sat up sharply, putting a hand on your knee. You almost flinched away to try and sedate your own sexual desires, but he would get suspicious.

"Uhhh, yes! It was good, I really enjoyed that. Thank you for doing that for me," Felix comforted. When you nodded in response, he grabbed your chin again and placed another peck on your lips. "I... honestly? I kind of wouldn't mind kissing you again."

The boy's boldness shocked you everyday, and you'd known him for sixteen years. "For... for practice, right? When we're married, we're gonna have to do it loads, so-"

"Yeah, yeah, one hundred percent. For practice," Felix agreed. He was nodding eagerly. He suddenly shifted, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "Aw, shit. We should probably head back. Wanna watch a film in your room when we get back?"

You grinned. Back to the same old. This was better, though now you knew you'd be thinking about being on your back with him on top of you making out while you were watching a film. Quickly, you realised something. "That will look so sus though, now that we're engaged."

"We'll keep it a secret," He wiggled, elbowing you. You found yourself laughing, jumping up to walk back to the palace. You held your outstretched hand to him.

"Your majesty?"

"Ah, yes, my fine maiden," Felix giggled, sliding off the bench to grab your hand. You both started to walk to the edge of the path, skipping along as if you had no cares in the world. You heard rustling, probably the sounds of the reporter leaving.

You hoped you'd done okay. You hoped you'd made it believable. Well, you probably had, given your actual feelings - but had Felix?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd woken up the next day with a piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead and another person snoring next to you. You blinked yourself awake drearily, leaning up on your palms and looking around your room. Your TV had turned onto standby, and you looked to your right. Felix was in your room. Felix was in your bed. You'd- oh, no. You'd totally just fallen asleep watching a movie, nevermind. Totally fine.

No, actually. Totally not fine!

You shrieked, grabbing Felix's slender waist and wiggling him awake. He'd borrowed a pair of your more comfortable clothes and the t-shirt had been just a bit too small, riding up with every move and now exposing nearly his whole tummy. You tried to ignore it, continuing to shake him awake. The piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead fell onto the bed with an unceremonious noise and you groaned. Eventually, after what felt like hours of shaking your best friend, he opened his eyes and gave you a wide smile, pulling you in for a cuddle. You ignored how lovely it felt and tried to get him to regain consciousness and morality.

"Felix."

"Hmm?"

"You are in my bed."

"I know, dummy- Oh." Felix shot up, nearly sending you flying off the bed. His hand landed on the piece of popcorn, crumbling it into your pristine white sheets. You tried not to cry. His eyes widened, staring at you. "What's the- have you checked your phone? What's the time?"

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone. You seldom went on your phone, preferring to read and spend time with Felix, but you had it in case of emergencies and also sometimes for TikTok, but you'd never admit that. You blinked. 11am.

You'd missed breakfast, but you also had zero missed calls or texts on your phone. No one had woken you? Weird. You flipped the screen to show Felix, and he leaned in closer. You were brandishing your wallpaper of the two of you on the beach last summer, but you didn't care. He grabbed your phone, entered your passcode and clicked on the phone app.

"No one even tried to wake us?" He asked. You shook your head. He laid back down, seeming weirdly reassured. You didn't question it, slinking up next to him and putting your head on his shoulder. He moved his arm accordingly, pulling you into his chest and still clicking random buttons on your phone. Eventually, he landed on the search tab, and typed in 'news'. Oh, shit. Was it announced?

Yep. In blaring headlines, multiple news media sources were now releasing reports with every single detail of the story, including pictures of the two of you last night. The titles were all similar, going along the lines of "the sweet Prince and beloved best friend confirmed to be engaged!" or "sophisticated best friend and the lovely Prince taking a romantic late night stroll!". You scoffed, clicking on one and scrolling down. The pictures were cute, to be honest. Some even showed the two of you laughing and hitting each other last night, or you two walking home hand in hand and skipping as if you were kids. One picture, however, is what stuck with you. It was the two of you mid-kiss, Felix's hand on the back of your head and his other holding your shoulder, keeping you in place. It was fucking hot.

"Damn, we look good, you know?" Felix mused, zooming in on the picture. You hummed. You did, you couldn't deny that. "My mum was so real for thinking of us getting married. Like, we totally look good together. Imagine our kids."

Imagine what we'll do to make kids, you thought, but you bit your tongue. You giggled, slapping Felix's chest playfully, then a thought came into your stupid lizard brain. "Hey, Lix?"

"Yeah?" He was still scrolling through an article, laughing at some of the sentences. Everyone loved the two of you, but a few were jealous that you'd managed to snag him. Good.

"Did you mean what you said last night? About practice?" Felix's thumb stopped on the screen. His eyes darted to you, his hair still mussed from sleep. He just stared at you, and you lost your nerve. "Sorry. Weird thing to say. I was just wondering-"

"No, not weird. I meant it. You wanna make out? For practice?" Felix locked your phone, chucking it to the end of the bed. You didn't have time to scold him for throwing your things around like that before his hand was carding in your hair, fingertips scratching at your scalp. God, you loved it when he did that. Your eyes shut in bliss. You totally forgot what he asked. "Hey, earth to sugarplum."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure. For practice."

Okay, so you were totally being super selfish. But, you were going to be having sex with him soon. You could do a little making out to prepare, right? You were just a woman, after all. Nothing wrong with that. His fingers gripped your hair with a different intensity then, pulling at the strands slightly, and you choked back a whine. You opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He hummed, looking at you. He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Maybe... yeah," He grabbed your arm, pulling you over him. He positioned you exactly how he wanted you, on top of him, straddling his hips. His dainty hands went to your waist, rubbing circles. "Yeah, like this. For practice."

"For practice," You agreed solemnly. You were beginning to think that maybe it wasn't for practice. Maybe he just wanted to. He scooted up, leaning up against the pillows so he was sat up and you were sat on top of him. You tried to ignore the fact that you could feel what was going on between his legs through your thin sleep shorts. You couldn't get too wound up during this, just in case it was just for practice. Knotting your hands into the fabric of his - your - white t-shirt, you leaned down, brushing your nose with his. You were being selfish, but bold, but mostly selfish.

Felix's eyes flitted down to your lips, leaning up to place a soft kiss there. You smiled softly, and he returned yours with a smile that could only be described as filled with fondness. You bit your lip, noticing the way his eyes honed in on your teeth and perhaps his grip tightened on your hips just a bit, but he'd always deny it.

"Lixie." You muttered. You were too shy. He knew exactly what you meant, and raised one hand up to grab at the back of your head. He brought your lips to his, attaching his mouth to yours in a way that was completely different from yesterday. Yesterday was for show, but this seemed personal, hungry almost. You decided you were going to take what you could get. You pressed your lips to his harder, making him choke out a noise of surprise. It was messy, again, open mouthed kisses that were nothing akin to precise or experienced, but you could get to know each other, get to know what you liked. Right at that moment, all you knew was that you liked him, and you would be so pissed off if he didn't let you get your tongue in his mouth like he did last night.

Your hands went up to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues brushed against each other, and you whined, hips kicking up just slightly before you managed to stop yourself. He grabbed your hips, flipping you over so he was on top of you, not breaking the kiss. His lips kept brushing against yours as his tongue entered your mouth, groaning at the feeling. You couldn't stop breathing heavily through your nose, your hands roaming up his back and landing on his hair, pulling him down to kiss you harder. Your lips felt bruised, swollen, but you never wanted to stop kissing him.

With that thought, he bit your lip, pulling away and letting it release against your teeth. You squirmed, licking your lips excessively to try and stop them feeling so swollen. Felix looked debauched, his hair even more tangled and his lips just as red and swollen as yours. His eyes were dark, staring down at you.

"Baby. Bestie. I'm sorry, but I'm- I'm sorry..." He whispered, his head going to the crook of your neck to place soothing kisses there. He was breathing heavily, shifting ever so slightly on top of you. You felt it then, what he was apologising for. His length was rock hard, the shaft pressing into your core and giving you just the slightest bit of stimulation. "'M so fucking hard, sugarplum, I'm sorry."

"I-It's okay, Lixie. I think I'm... I'm wet, too," You whispered, and he threw his head back, groaning. "Practice makes perfect, y'know. We can keep making out." Felix nodded eagerly, and he grabbed your thighs, linking them around his hips. He ducked to place a few more kisses on your neck, biting a little at the area where your throat met your jaw. You let out a moan, neck bearing to the opposite side to give him full access and he clearly approved, biting harder.

"Baby, c-can I just," He ground his hips into yours, groaning and stuttering his words out. He immediately stopped, looking down at you. "Can I? I can make us both feel good, no sex. We can just grind a little on eachother. I won't put it in, I promise-"

With that, a knock on the door interrupted you both. You were fully prepared to start swinging at whoever was on the other end. Felix looked like he was about to die, cheeks flushed and hair tangled every which way. You both stared at each other in disbelief. Okay, so you had kind of really lost yourself there, and now somebody is at the door while the nation's favourite Prince is currently on top of you grinding into you with full intent to cum. You'd only just announced your engagement. You could've got pregnant before you even got married. Jesus, what is wrong with you? You sighed, moving to sit up, and Felix moved off of you. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

"I should... fuck, Felix, what do we do?" You knew you both looked the image of lust, lips kiss bitten and swollen and hair everywhere. You could even feel the wet patch in your sleep shorts. Shit, okay.

Felix looked to be holding back a laugh. You felt terrified, but you almost laughed too, in pure disbelief. You both covered your mouths before you shot off the bed, slipping your shorts off your legs and replacing them with a pair of longer trousers from your drawer. You honestly couldn't care less if he'd seen you in your underwear, you'd bathed together when you were younger. You motioned to the en suite dramatically and Felix ran in there instantly, still giggling quietly, locking the door behind him. You shook your head fondly as another knock was firmly punched against the door. Jesus, couldn't even give you a second?

"Coming!" You called, walking over to the door and trying your best to fake yawn loudly so they thought you'd just woken up. When you opened the door, Chris stood there, a happy smile on his face.

"Okay, I'm so coming in! Why didn't you tell me you and Felix are serious now?" He pushed you back into the room, throwing himself onto your bed dramatically. It was quite funny, seeing him lying on the bed you'd just accosted his brother on. He was resting against the messy sheets in a perfect suit and tie. You shook your head, letting out a laugh.

"Okay, we're not. It's an arranged thing, Chris. We're still only best friends," You chose your words wisely, fiddling with the drawstring on your trousers. Chris hummed, giving you a strange look. Changbin. Fucking Changbin, he'd definitely said something. God. "And, why didn't you ask your own brother this? I'm simply an accessory."

"Because my own brother is currently locked inside your bathroom pretending he's not there?" Chris replied instantly. Your eyes widened.

"No, he's not. Why would you even think-"

"Okay, well. I know he is, so," Chris shrugged. You sighed.

"Felix, you can come out," You said. The lock slowly clicked open and Felix emerged, looking sheepish. Thank God the shock of Chris arriving had made his boner go down, so now he didn't look too lustful. He'd also clearly ran your brush through his hair before coming out. You couldn't say the same for yourself.

Felix threw himself down on the bed next to you and Chris, groaning and stretching his limbs. "Did anyone ask where we were?"

Chris chuckled. He fiddled with the wedding band on his left hand. "Yep. I made up an excuse, said you'd gone out for a walk again and were getting food out. I had a feeling you'd both be spending the night together. Princess Diaries again?"

You shook your head. "Nope. It's too real now."

"Mind you, I don't think there was this much 'practising' going on between Mia and her potential husband in the second one," Chris looked up from his hand. You averted your eyes.

"Dunno what you mean-"

"How much did you hear, what the fuck?!" Felix shrieked. Oh, great, thanks.

"I mean, the walls are thin, dude. I heard a lot on my way down the corridor. But, I'm glad you two are having fun with it, at least. Arranged marriages can be shit sometimes," Chris stretched similarly to Felix, before reaching down and clapping Felix on his back harshly. Felix groaned, throwing himself around the bed in protest. "Anyway, I should be off now. Congratulations again, guys. You should probably get ready for the party tonight though."

Chris began to walk out of the room, and Felix stood up.

"I should... go. With him. You know?" You nodded in response to his statement. He waited until Chris had rounded the corner, and leaned down, pressing a swift peck to your lips. You squeaked in surprise, cheeks burning crimson. He giggled, giving you a sweet wave and running off. "See you later, bestie!"

You wondered if you’d ever be permitted to drop the bestie, maybe once you’re married to him, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You wanted to let yourself be selfish just this once.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

3K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 8 months

Note

so about the dk thing... hold my beer, luna! I have some things for you:

- him being the biggest advocate for princess treatment™ 24/7, but becoming mean one specific night out of stress (due to work or anything you want), the outcome can be angsty or smutty >> this one can be a little tricky, because I swear I never saw seokmin mad...

- seokmin with an extremely shy s/o who makes him endeared every time, especially if she struggles when asking for any type of ffection

- dk in his mingyu era... also known as the scenario where seokmin gets constantly teased by his s/o about everything he does (which I can see happening, since he's such a sweet soul), but there's a turn 🤨☝️: dk gets his bite back by domming the f out of her 🫶

this is the result of being extremely dk obsessed.

I don't know if any of these were able to spark anything in your pretty brain, but I love anything you write anyway so...

kisses ♡

18+ / mdi

content: mean!seokmin, sub-ish reader, afab reader, smut, established relationship, angst, fluff, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2813

a/n: thank u for the suggestions anonie i loved them 🫡 i decided to do the first one hehe (mostly bc i live for princess treatment in fics but thats a subject for another day) hope u enjoy, fellow dk obsessed individual <3

masterlist

if there was an award for best boyfriend, seokmin would easily get first place.

he was always known to be the sweetest, most caring boy around. he had even gotten teased in front of millions over the extremely long texts he had a tendency to send to showcase how deeply he cared for the people in his life. seokmin just happened to be an overly affectionate guy, but who could blame him when he had so much love to give?

however, no one had truly scratched the surface of his affections. no one, but you. you bore the brunt of the most passionate and emotional aspects of his love. there was no one in this world seokmin knew how to love better than you. it was almost as if being your boyfriend had been the one task he had been sent to do on this earth. and he did it damn well.

to sum it up, you were his everything. seokmin had always craved romantic love; to have someone who he could give all his affections to without any type of filter or judgement. you happily received his love and gave yours right back, making you one of the most envied couples around due to the love that very clearly radiated out of the two of you.

every single one of your days was met by endless affection from your boyfriend, affections which he adored to give to you. you never had to ask for anything from seokmin. he just always knew the perfect ways in which to take care of you, always insisting on tending to your every need. however, everyone has off days. even seokmin.

the day had started like any other. you'd gone to sleep in each other's arms, waking up equally as tangled up as the previous night. seokmin woke up first, quickly getting ready before kissing you goodbye with the promise of coming back in time to have a dinner with you. the prospect always made him giddy. his whole life he'd always wanted a domestic routine to share with the love of his life day by day and now it was his reality.

like always, he departed home with a smile on his face, knowing he was about to arrive to his dream job that he shared with his best friends only to go back home at the end of the day and fall into your arms all over again. life was good; far too good to seokmin.

it seemed like those were the last few good moments seokmin was meant to have that day, as absolutely everything went wrong after that.

it first began with him embarrassingly tripping on his way out of the car that had driven him to the company, cutting up one of his favorite designer tops (one that had been a limited edition by the way!!). only a few people had seen, so the fall on its own hadnt been too embarrassing. however, as he fell he also happened to drop and smash his phone screen. upon trying to turn his phone back on, he failed, now being stuck with a useless phone for the rest of the day (or even all the way until he had a chance to get it fixed).

the shitty day did not end there. it was just starting.

the next awful predicament occurred just as he walked into the practice room. he hadnt known it until stepping foot inside, but he had just walked into a fight. a few of the members had been fighting about some stupid and unimportant thing, which made at least half of them far too irritable for their own good. on days in which members were irritated at each other, their coordination had a tendency to lack, which only caused more irritation. members snapped at each other throughout the day, making the hours of practice almost unbearable for seokmin. on top of that, he had developed a huge headache just an hour into leaving home. he was also nursing an old ankle injury he had neglected to get treated, which was now acting up due to his fall earlier that day.

his ankle injury led to a few performance team members snapping at him due to his lack in performance. he knew in his heart of hearts that it was just a stressful day for them all (and that his own attitude had been snappy thus far), but he couldnt bring himself to reason this, making him snap right back at his members. even upon going out to eat with his manager he bumped into some rude fans who had been a bit careless with his personal space, except this time he coupdnt react since he knew itd become a scandal.

halfway through his day seokmin realized how rude and unlike himself he had been acting. usually he'd be the mediator in any arguments among members, but today he had even joined in and worsened the situation. he also never really minded if fans were a little overexcited upon meeting him, simply chalking it up to the shock they felt at seeing him. except this time he found himself feeling annoyed? at it. this was very unlike him, but his mood simply continued to worsen throughout the day.

by the time he was heading back home, the final nail was hammered into the coffin. the van that usually drove him back and forth had broken down, causing seokmin, his driver and manager to have to stop on the side of a busy street to check on the issue. seokmin, of course, had to stay inside the van and not make his presence known, knowing he'd easily be recognized in the busy street. this was a fact that irritated him too for some reason.

by the end of it, it had taken over an hour to get the problem fixed, and he had no access to his phone to contact you and let you know that he'd be arriving home way later than usual.

that was the moment in which you entered his mind again. the thought of you instantly made him sigh in relief, knowing that soon enough he'd get to fall asleep in your arms and wake up to a better day.

it was 10:47 when he finally arrived back to your shared home, two hours after the usual time in which he'd reunite with you every day. upon walking in he was met with something he had not wanted to deal with after such an stressful day. you were there to greet him as per usual, but did not seem too happy to see him.

you opened your mouth before he could say anything.

"seokmin, what the hell? i called you twelve times. i even asked the members to call you and no response? what was so important that you ignored me all day?", you seemed very frustrated as you said it, clearly oblivious to the terrible day he'd just had.

"baby– "

"you said you'd be here for dinner by 8! what was so important you couldnt even give me a heads up? we rarely ever get to have dinner together. i spent hours cooking and getting ready and you just ditch me, and for what?", you continued to ramble, giving him no space to answer.

now, any other day seokmin wouldve maybe assumed that your outburst mightve been due to you having a bad day of your own. but today he was just too angry. there was no space in his mind for him to rationalize your lack of sympathy to him in this moment. despite knowing there was no way for you to know that his day had sucked, he also reasoned that you were not even giving him a chance to explain himself. this fact on its own finally did him in. you were going to be unreasonable? fine, then he was going to be mean. all frustrations from the day suddenly came together and manifested into the angry words that were about to leave his mouth.

"and– "

"god, can you please shut up?", he suddenly interrupted you with a tone so icy he even surprised himself, but he kept going regardless, "ive had such a horrible day, i dont appreciate coming home to your nagging. do you even care that maybe i had a reason for being late? i dont have to be here at eight on the dot every single night. nor do i have to keep you updated all day. god, please just leave me alone for today. i cant deal with you on top of everything else."

upon finishing his rambles, seokmin was out of breath. he hadnt said much, but the venom behind his words was enough to render him speechless. the moment the words left his mouth he felt the utmost regret. your face had gone from shocked to dejected to simply sad as he spoke. his went from frustrated to angry to regretful. the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before seokmin tried to go and rectify himself.

"fuck, baby ... im so sorry, i dont know where that came from. i– i didnt mean any of that. i had a horrible day and– "

"is that it? it seemed like something you'd already thought about", it was now your turn to be angry, it seemed.

"no, baby, i swear! i was just trying to ... trying to be mean. i was trying to hurt your feelings. im so sorry. everything went wrong today and i was just so angry all day. i couldnt even call you because i broke my phone. see!", he pulled his phone out to show you, taking the opportunity to get closer to you, "i know its no justification, but i did not mean a single word i said. i love our nightly routine. i love coming home to you every day more than anything. please dont doubt that. i shouldntve taken out my anger on you. it will never happen again. please, please forgive me?", his endless ramble finally came to an end, puppy eyes staring into yours as he hoped you saw the sincerity in them.

halfway through his speech he had managed to make you give into him and let him hold you as he spoke. this simple act made him glad.

"minnie ... im sorry you had a bad day. but you should never speak to me like that. i love you, but i wont tolerate that. if something bothers you, you have to tell me, not blow up on me like– "

"no! nothing about you ever bothers me! i adore absolutely everything about our relationship and our routine. im so sorry. i shouldve told you when i came home that my day had put me in a mood instead of snapping at you like that."

you chuckled, "i cant really blame you. i threw accusations at you the moment you walked in. im sorry. can we call it even?"

"yes, angel. of course. im sorry i spoiled the dinner. wish i couldve seen how pretty you dressed up for me," he pouted at you.

"it's okay, minnie. there's always tomorrow. are you still feeling angry? did your ramble help you at least?", he winced at the mention of the disrespectful words he had just spoken mere minutes ago, but you seemed already unaffected by them.

to be quite honest, seokmin still felt peeved off at his day. from his fall, to his phone, to his members being mean and unreasonable, to then having his car fail and keep him from you, to then finally getting home and picking a fight with you, it was safe to say he was still dissatisfied. he needed something to relieve his stress, but he didnt want to put that onto you again.

"honestly? i still feel frustrated. it was just such a shitty day, i ... i dont know," he sighed, "i kinda feel like breaking something."

"how about me?", you sounded so genuine as you asked.

"huh?"

"yeah. you could use me to destress. right, minnie?", there wasnt even any lust behind your words. he could tell that it was simply you trying to help out your stressed boyfriend.

"d– do you mean be mean to you?"

you nodded, leaning closer to him as you smiled.

"yes, minnie. would that help? taking your frustrations out on me?"

he groaned with no response, choosing instead to pull you into a greedy and wanton kiss.

his hands were immediately rough as they desperately kneaded at every curve in your body, so harsh in their movements he was already sure he'd leave a bruise or two in his wake.

suddenly he pulled away to inquire at you.

"wait, baby. are you sure? i don't want to hurt you."

"you won't. you never would. do your worst, seokmin," and with that, you pulled him back to you to continue kissing.

surprisingly enough, the simple kissing on its own had begun to alleviate his mood a bit. being able to feel your whines as he fondled your body as he saw fit was already making him forget about his shitty day.

it didnt take long for him to drag you to your shared room and throw you on the bed, immediately going to rip your skimpy pajamas off so that he could have a full view of the body he was about to ram into the bed.

"oh, angel. you're so fucking beautiful ... gonna be so fucking mean to you, angel, im sorry," except he wasnt sorry. and both his tone of voice and devilish grin let you know of that fact.

you lay limp for him to take action, something which made him groan internally, knowing you were putting yourself fully at his disposition. he took advantage of this, choosing to undress himself and finally begin to hover over you.

immediately he flipped you around roughly, forcing you onto your elbow and knees as you gasped at the sudden movement. he fondled you some more and made it so you'd arch your back for him as much as physically possible.

he had no need to prepare neither you nor himself, as he was hard the moment you asked him to use you, and you were practically dripping at his rough attitude.

"baby, gonna fuck you now, yeah? let me know if it's too much."

you gave him the green light, leading him to immediately ramming into you with no further warning.

"f– fuck!"

"oh, fuck. feel so fucking good, beautiful. gonna fuck you so good ... gonna atone for every shitty thing that happened today ...", with that he began slamming into you with no mercy, drinking in every single scream you let out. he knew his neighbors might mind, but he didnt care for that right now. all he wanted was for you to crumble under him.

"you're such a good toy for me, angel. my pretty girl, letting me use her– fuck! ... however i see fit."

"m– minnie!"

"i know, beautiful, i know. such a pretty toy ..."

his movements only became harsher as he grew closer and closer to his end. he knew yours was coming too, based on the heightened pitch of your moans and the way you tried to push yourself back on him despite the sheer strength of his thrusts. it was impossible for him not to fall in love with how good you were for him. it was also impossible for him to be actually mean to you, choosing instead to praise you as your orgasm came to be.

"c– cum for me, beautiful. let me fill up your pretty cunt ..."

"yes, minnie! yours, all yours ..."

he didnt need more than that to fill you up, ramming against you one last time as he winced at the loud sound of his hips slamming against your ass. he swore he almost lost consciousness at the inexplicable pleasure he felt from cumming so deep inside you, hearing you slump over due to lack of energy.

your orgasms subsided together, leading seokmin to do quick work of your clean up and settling with you in the still half-messy bed, rushing to hold you in his arms, which was what he'd wanted since leaving home that morning.

"feel better?", you broke the silence.

"yeah, thanks angel," he grinned at you, giving you a quick peck.

"you weren't even mean to me!", you whined.

"it was hard, okay? i love you!"

"yeah, whatever ..."

"say it back!"

"ill think about it."

"baby!", this time he unglued your bodies, hovering over you as he tried to give you his, "you dont be mean!"

you giggled at him, giving in upon his sudden attack of kisses all over your face, "fine! i love you!"

he finally stopped, opting to cuddle into your side once more, "that's what i thought."

a/n: sorry the smut was too short idk how to write seokmin as mean 💔

709 notes · View notes

ienjoywritingfilth · 2 months

Text

love me more part ii

hi: you know i write filth. you can't be surprised by the depravity of this.

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader part one here

trope: Mom's Boyfriend! Javier Pena

summary: After some great news you're in the best mood when your Mom's boyfriend Javier comes over. What's the harm in a little fun with him while she's not there?

warnings: public-ish sex (not sure how to define???), age gap, sexual tension, forbidden rel, absolutely filthy talk, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), swallowing, dub-conish, dark!JavierPena, almost caught, other shit but I've probs forgotten.

word count: 2.5k

rating 18+

wanna see my other stuff?

love me more part ii

Moving out wasn't going as quickly as you'd hoped. Rent on an apartment to call your own was exorbitant and your meagre savings weren't doing much to help.

Harper offered to let you stay at hers but the random men she brought home to her bed made you feel decidedly weirded out. You couldn't imagine actually feeling at ease in a home where you didn't know the person sitting next to you over cereal in the morning.

Five months had gone by since that night of fucking with Javier. Calling him faddy and seeing him get worked up. Five months since you heard him fucking your mother's brains out as he spoke filth about you, knowing you would fear. Five months since you made yourself come to the memory.

Well, actually, that's never really stopped. It's your favourite spank bank memory lately.

And you told yourself you'd quit the whole seduction act with Javier, except it was really hard because he was around more often. There in the kitchen when you went to grab coffee. There on the couch with his legs spread wide, a bottle of beer held casually between them as he stroked your mother’s hair. He was there in the mid afternoon when you came back from shopping with Harper dressed in tight jeans and t-shirt as he repaired the broken fridge. And he was there in her bedroom, fucking her brains out night after night.

As he should be, he was your mom's boyfriend for fucks sake.

Until he wasn't.

You came home from a weekend away with Harper to find moving boxes in the apartment and a wedding ring on your mother's fourth finger.

"We got married," your mother announced with a girlish giggle as you walked into the kitchen. Javier was at work and your mother was already three beers in. You goggled at the shiny emerald, shocked at the class of the design.

"When?"

"Javier has friends in Texas. We went for a little getaway to visit them and we passed this sweet little chapel and Javier's cousin is a priest and one thing led to another..."

She gave another girlish trill, practically floating around the kitchen.

"Why would you get married?” you choked out, still disbelieving. “You barely know him."

"We've been together seven months," she pouted. "Why aren't you happy for me?"

"I am happy, mom. I'm just surprised."

-----

And now you sit in your bed watching a movie on your phone on a Thursday night, still confused as to how you ended up here with your hands stuffed down the front of your pyjama pants as you imagine your new stepfather fucking you in your bed.

He and your mother are on their date night. Dinner and a movie. It's almost endearing if it wasn't also pathetically predictable. Like they bought into this whole white picket fence suburban dream despite the fact that they share a shitty apartment with you and your mom is shitfaced most nights.

Ever since the marriage you’ve tried to stay away from Javier for the most part, you'll say a polite good morning or good evening when you see him. You share the occasional meal with your mother and him, you even make extra coffee on the mornings that you start really early knowing that he'll want a cup as well. And he's equally polite to you, his eyes never straying from your face, his hands never coming anywhere near your body.

And it's driving you insane.

You hate how cordial you are to one another, you hate that you still think about his body and his voice and his eyes when you touch yourself at night. You hate that sometimes when he and your mother are really loud you press your ear to the wall and hopes of hearing snatches of his deep baritone groaning.

You're sick.

Your phone beeps.

I'm coming to pick u up.

It's late.

Bitch you need a life. You been working too hard

Harper is one of the lucky ones who get everything paid with her dad's credit card. You've had to work for everything you've ever had, coming from a poor background, being brought up with no father, you've had to overcome things at Harper can never even dream of.

I'll see you in thirty.

Harper doesn't bother replying to you and it's probably because she already has her tongue down some guy’s throat. She has a real affinity for guys that treat her like shit.

Despite needing to leave shortly you can't help but be drawn back to your bed. Your hand finds itself strumming your pussy once more to thoughts of the one man you shouldn't. When you orgasm his name bleeds from your lips before you throw yourself into the shower.

You dress in your best slutty club wear, applying deep red lipstick and calling an Uber.

-------

You arrive home hours later a little buzzed and more than a little horny. The guys at the club didn't do it for you. None of them have what you want, none of them are forbidden. You danced with them, let them kiss your neck, let them grind their hard cocks against your ass while you danced, but that was it.

You stumble through the front door after attempting the lock three times. The TV is glowing quietly.

Your mom is lying snuggled on the far end of the L-shaped couch with her face to the wall. She's snoring loudly, a sure sign that she's had too much to drink.

Javier is in the same spot he usually picks: the opposite end of the couch. He's watching some bullshit 80's action flick on the TV, empty beer cans littering the coffee table. You can tell from the brand that they were all your mothers. When you count up to eight cans you can only sigh exasperatedly.

Javier hears you enter the room, glancing over his shoulder to watch you stumble towards him. He’s got a cigarette smoldering next to him in the ashtray on the side table. It billows seductively.

"Hey. Didn't know you were still up."

"Yeah."

Javier nods before going back to the film. You glance to see your mom still snoring, deep in sleep. She's hard to wake up on these nights, one where she drinks herself into a stupor. You trip into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and drinking it quickly before pouring another.

Javier's ignoring you resolutely and it makes you want to break him. You want to see that wild look in his eyes from so many months ago. The way he shuddered when you called him daddy.

You take another gulp of water before an idea comes to you. You tilt over the sink dribbling cold water down the front of your thin shirt. Without a bra the buds of your nipples jut beautifully through the fabric.

You saunter out to the TV room, the glass of water forgotten. You walk up to the TV, pretending to be engrossed.

“Watcha watching?”

You stand to the side, aware that Javier can see everything.

“A boring movie.”

You hold in a smirk when you turn to face him, your wet t-shirt clinging to you. The water makes the fabric stick to the curves, showcasing the round pert of your tits.

Javier doesn't look amused. He looks positively steaming when you turn, walking to the back of the couch. You stand behind him, looking down at the top of his head, the tousled hair, the wide shoulders. He continues to ignore you, fingers twitching at his sides.

You don't know why but you're desperate to touch him tonight. Your fingers slide up his neck, coming to wrap in the loose curl at the base of his skull and tugging.

"You have such nice hair," you murmur huskily. "So thick."

------

Javier knows you're fucking with him.

Even as the goosebumps rise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers gripping his hair, even as your fingernails trace down his neck as you slowly pull your hand off of him.

He knows that you've been playing this game for weeks. Every time you brush up against him unnecessarily when you grab your coffee in the morning. Every time you stretch and show him that thin band of flesh between your shirt and pants. It's just enough to tease without being obvious.

And he knows why you just showed him his own personal wet t-shirt contest. You think you're powerful, you think you have him where you want.

Silly girl.

He knows that even him ignoring you is fun to you, to see who will fold first. He knows you want him to fold. This is your game.

But tonight it ends.

-------

You smirk to yourself when you see Javier shift under your touch. You move around to the front of him and now his dark eyes move up your body, lingering over your breasts before forcing themselves to your face.

You tilt forward, your knees touching his. Your chest sways enticingly before him while your hands go to his shoulders. He tenses under you, his eyes wide and pupils overtaking the iris. You move your mouth towards him and he leans forward, confused when you move past his mouth to his ear.

"Have a good sleep, daddy," you whisper, your lower lip catching his earlobe. Javier shudders.

But you pull back sharply when your mom snorts. You and Javier watch her shifting slightly before she falls back into a deep slumber.

That was close.

You almost jump when Javier's hand darts out and grabs your wrist. In one fluid motion he covers your mouth as well, tugging you onto his lap. You collapse over him, your legs are spread, your crotch against his. He's hard.

"You wanna act like a whore?" Javier murmurs against your temple. "Then I'm gonna treat you like one."

He pushes you off of his lap before forcing you to your knees between his parting legs. He darts his dark eyes over to your mom's sleeping form, her snores still heavy.

He wouldn’t.

You watch mute as he unzips his jeans, his eyes on you the entire time. He doesn't even hesitate to pull his hard cock from its confines. It's angry red, jutting out like some beacon and the tip glistens.

You continue to kneel there, your eyes flying from the weeping head of his cock back to his face and then back again. One large hand grasps you by the back of the neck. You gasp when he holds the base of his cock with the other, tapping the head against your shocked lower lip.

"C'mon now, bonita," he whispers huskily when you don't act. "I know a slut like you isn't afraid of a cock."

Offended you tense, trying to pull out of his grasp.

"I’m not go-"

"I'm not asking," Javier says and the amusement has fled from his features. "I'm telling."

You swallow, feeling your nipples tighten and your cunt clench even though you know what he’s doing is wrong.

"I'll wake up my mom," you whisper weakly.

An oily smirk settles across his handsome features. He drags his cock along your lips and you can taste his salty pre-cum when your tongue darts over it almost immediately.

"I'll deny it. I'll tell her about all your little games. She'll see your tits on display and I'll tell you you've been hitting on me since we started dating."

The worst part is you know she'll believe him, her wonderful new husband. Javier surprises you when he takes your hand and curls it around his aching cock. You surprise yourself by allowing it. He captures your eyes with his again.

"Do what you've been promising me for months."

"I haven't promised you anything," you whisper with a tremble.

Javier leans forward, his eyes burning as his face stops inches from yours. His voice was already quiet and raspy, but now it seems like it's scraping the floor.

"Yes you have. Every time you called me daddy, every lingering touch, every longing look promised me everything, you little slut," he muses. "And you know it."

You watch in shock as he begins to thrust his cock between your fingers. He does it slowly at first, letting himself get used to the warmth of your palm and the shock present on your features. But you don’t stroke him, you don’t do anything but watch.

"Didn't grow up with a daddy so you don't have any manners," Javier whispers. He leans back, his fingers holding yours against his throbbing cock as he continues. "Guess I gotta teach you."

He strokes himself with your shocked fingers, casting a smarmy smile in your direction. You watch mesmerized as the pre-cum coats the meat of your palm, allowing him to glide unencumbered.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “Think you can handle it on your own?”

You don’t reply, but you do stroke him as he thrusts. His hands go to the back of the couch, one hand reaching into the ashtray at his elbow. He plucks his smoldering cigarette from it, popping it between his pillowy lips and inhaling slowly.

Your palm twists, jerking him and tugging. He grunts softly, his gaze slipping over to you sleeping mother before going to your breasts which sway as your arm pumps. He feels such a thrill at doing this. At fucking your hand while his wife sleeps only a few feet away, likely to turn over at any moment. It makes him harder.

He blows the smoke into your face, amused at the wrinkle of your nose when he does.

"Get them out," he orders, his voice still a husky murmur.

You shake your head, knowing what he's after.

"No."

"Cut the shit and get your tits out."

You frown deeply before lifting the hem of your shirt. Then realizing you don't want to be on more display then necessary you change course, bringing your shirt down low enough for your breasts to spring free.

Javier makes a soft purring noise, like some horny jungle cat. He pops the cigarette back into his mouth . He palms them both, marveling at how good they look, how soft they are before taking another deep drag from his smoke. He again blows it in your direction before speaking around it.

"Need that little whore mouth now.”

There’s a small voice that warns you there’s no coming back from this. That reminds you that Javier Pena is your mom’s husband. And yet he doesn’t even need to touch you and urge you forward, because you’re already shifting forward.

Your mother could turn around at any second and see you on your knees between his legs, hands in your lap and your head moving towards his throbbing cock. It's pathetic how easily your jaw is dropping open for him, urging his fat cock between the lips of your mouth, tasting every ridge.

What else would she see? The almost eager gleam in your eyes as soon as he moves over your tongue? The way your toes curl as he groans softly, his wide fingers tangling in your hair?

Would she notice now your eyes roll back not in pain but in ecstasy as he plunges himself deeper and deeper until he's fucking your throat?

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

Would she be in shock to see her new husband fucking her daughter's mouth? Javier, sat back relaxed and forcing her head to bob up and down for him? Would she even notice the way her daughter slips one hand beneath her skirt and begins to rub her clit in time with Javier's thrusts?

"Faster," he pants quietly above you, slipping his slobbery cock between your lips over and over. He's enjoying the sight of you there on your knees, needy and desperate with your head snapping as he fucks your face.

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

All you can smell is him, all you can taste is him, all you can feel is him. Thick and ridged as he coats himself in your saliva, forcing your jaw to drop as he feeds you more of him. You hear the way he works to muffle his grunts. You could be caught at any second.

Your eyes are smudged with mascara and you're drooling around his cock. He continues to hold his fist around your hair, fucking his cock deeper into your throat.

"A little whore like her mama," Javier purrs softly with what could sound like affection. "You swallow like her too?"

Your eyes roll back into your head at the degradation, your fingers stuttering around your clit until the explosion of pleasure hits you. It makes you tense and release, a fluttering between your thighs making you thrash as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

Gotta keep quiet.

You swallow you moan, shuddering violently as you continue to hollow your cheeks and take him. At the sight Javier feels his balls tighten and without warning he floods your mouth with his warm spend.

"Swallow daddy's cum," he manages to grind out, hips rolling as he explodes into your waiting throat. "Swallow it down like the good little whore you are."

You are a good little whore. His good little whore, wet and needy for him. You hold in a moan, feeling the warmth coat your tongue as you swallow him down, neck bobbing as Javier strokes your collar.

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

Javier is breathing rapidly, his hair in his eyes as he stares at you. His cock is slick with your saliva and even watching it softening you are shocked at how much you want it back in your mouth.

He notices your hypnosis and he smirks before tapping your cheek gently with two fingers.

"Show me."

You tilt your face back and show him your clean mouth, eyes still wet and your pussy throbbing.

"Tongue."

Your tongue slides out, flipping to show him you weren't lying. Javier smirks, nodding at the fucked out expression on your face.

"Daddy's good girl."

Your mother suddenly snorts, half wheezing and shifting in her sleep. The sound terrifies you both. Javier tucks himself back into his jeans as you pull up your shirt and scamper off to your bedroom.

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