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suguann · 8 months ago

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FUCK IT, I WANT YOU—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. jjk men who are infatuated with you. | wc. 2.4k+

tags. fem!reader, bsf sister, cockwarming, slightly rough sex, best friends to lovers, exhibitionism, breast f*cking, domestic nanami, pet names, praise, mild dark content, dubcon, stepcest, stuckage

featuring. gojo, higuruma, nanami, geto, sukuna

an. banner is from hare kon okawari | masterlist

↬ GOJO

He shouldn’t even entertain the thought of wanting you—somewhere in the world, there’s a book of rules that says you shouldn’t develop a crush on your best friend’s little sister.

It doesn’t stop him from letting you talk him into shopping (as if he’d ever tell you no) and watching you try on tiny, flowy sundresses that make his jaw ache, how he’s just on the side of too-weak for those low-scooped tops you’re always wearing whenever he’s at your house.

At first, Gojo wonders if you do it on purpose—the bashful smiles and bumping shoulders if he’s close by—but you’re painfully shy for that to be the case. It’s why a smirk tugs at his mouth after leaving love bites across your chest when he finally gets you alone in his room so that he might see the adorable little face you make as you try to cover them up afterward.

He has you perched in his lap on the bed with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you rooted on his cock buried deep inside the hot-wet heat between your legs. His mouth sucks marks into your skin wherever he can reach, deep groans rumbling in his chest every time your pussy clenches down on him—a sweet reminder that he hasn’t let you move for a while.

“Toru, not there,” you squeak, fingers knotting in the hair at his nape to gently pull him away. “People will see.”

But he doesn’t listen as he rolls a nipple between his fingers, mesmerized by the sight of it pebbling into a tight peak—your thighs shaking around him when he pinches too hard.

“So fucking pretty,” he growls, biting his lip as he finally looks up at you. “Just let me play with them a bit more, and then I’ll fuck you. I promise.”

A white lie, but he’s done and said worse, and this isn’t that. This is him savoring a victory he never knew he had until you fluttered those long lashes and asked for a kiss.

You’re gasping and writhing, unable to do anything except sit there while he overstimulates you with his mouth and fingers. When he finally rolls you over onto your back, you’ve already cum twice, but that doesn’t stop him, greedy hips churning against yours and stealing another.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, loving how you quiver underneath him, your soft socks slipping where they try to rest around his waist. “You’re so sensitive, huh, baby?” he rasps, nosing the soft swell of your breast as he crowds you underneath him.

You mewl out a broken version of his name, hot pants against his neck that make you sound so desperate—not really answering him as your nails bite into his shoulders—and he can’t get over the way you look right now, how you sound. He’ll never be able to go back to pretending that you’re Geto’s annoying little sister (as if he ever thought you were) as Gojo watches drool trail from the side of your mouth from how good he’s fucking you.

“Do you know how filthy you look right now?” he grits between his teeth. “Been thinking about this for so long—fuck—can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

↬ HIGURUMA

It’s an accident the first time it happens.

You’re at the beach, playing with him in the water, when a wave hits you and washes your bikini top away. You squeal, and because he’s your best friend and has always looked out for you, he doesn’t realize right away he used his hands to shield your bare breasts from everyone else on the beach—eyes round when Higuruma does.

It’s innocent—his intent—yet alarm bells are ringing in his ears.

He expects you to shove him away—you don’t. Instead, you give him a sweet smile with a soft, muttered thank you and let him carry you back to the towels.

He’s still reeling at how you fit perfectly in his palms, skin against skin in a way he’s only ever shamefully imagined alone with his fist around his dick. It has him shifting his trunks uncomfortably, and he wants—no, needs (a definite need) more.

Higuruma spreads you out on your towel under the canopy of the large beach umbrella, the shirt he gave you pushed up and held out of the way under your chin as you watch him. His shoulders block out anybody from really seeing how he’s teasing your nipples into his mouth—your fingers digging into the hair at his nape to keep him there.

He never thought he’d get this far after years of watching you dance around the periphery of his life without ever really being his. How seeing you like this—whimpering his name under your breath, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks, and grinding onto his thigh pressed up between yours—only ever existed in a fantasy or two.

There’s nothing to do but watch as the lines of an eight-year friendship crumble into the sand with your soft squeaks of more, and his low groans fuck, and he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than a small flame doused in kerosene.

If this is the sacrifice for holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your sweat-slick skin, he’ll gladly burn.

He’d keep you like this forever if he could, and the way you look at him, pleading with your eyes, makes him think you’d let him if he asked (or maybe he wouldn’t have to).

He releases your nipple and smiles when your shirt falls from your teeth with a whine, your foot stomping against the towel in a way that’s too fucking cute.

“Why’d you stop?”

All the blood and heat in his body rush to his dick at how needy you sound—for him, all for him—and his breath fans across your spit-slick skin shakily, pent up and overflowing with nerves he’s held onto for as long as he can remember. “Sweetheart, you have to be quiet.”

You nod eagerly, your grip tightening in his hair to bring him back towards you. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t stop.”

Never.

When your leg brushes the tent in his trunks, it feels like his eyes roll into the back of his head from the contact. He greedily takes your tight, sensitive peak back into his mouth again—hardly paying attention to the wanton moans you fail to suppress as you continue grinding onto his thigh.

↬ NANAMI

Nanami stares at you more often than usual after you have his son—at how your chest fills out every top you wear, and your hips become the perfect place for his hands—a strange new obsession that develops overnight without a manual or an off switch.

One day, you’re his beautiful wife. The next, you’re his beautiful wife holding his baby, and suddenly, he’s seeing the world through a clear lens, and he can’t stop looking.

His hands are always on you just to curb the constant ache that never really fades, brushing hair out of your face, massaging your lower back, shamelessly letting them wander too close to the underside of your breasts whenever he can. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and sometimes it’s all he can think to do.

Some days, after a stressful work day, he’ll lay atop your chest and pepper kisses against whatever skin he can reach, wandering, eager hands getting their fill until he falls asleep. On other days, he stays up long enough—baby tucked away in his crib and the monitor softly humming on the coffee table—to peel your clothes out of the way to get the full picture.

“Just like that, darling,” he groans, watching where you’re kneeled between his legs, unable to take his eyes off the way his leaky tip peeks out from between your soft, bare breasts.

You stick out your tongue to lick away the pearl of white drooling out of his slit, only to spit it back onto his cock to help aid your up and down movements. It has him throbbing at how messy it is, liquid-hot heat pooling in his stomach at how good it feels. He knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he’s torn on whether or not to stop you or let you keep going.

“How does it feel?” you peer up at him through long lashes like you don’t already know what you’re doing to him.

“‘Good, darling. So fucking good—fuck, keep going—pretty little wife on her knees for me,” he curses, hips shuddering when he thrusts up, watching his length disappear and reappear again and again.

The delicate smile that adorns your lips makes his heart flutter, and balls draw up to his body. “Yeah? You gonna cum, Kento?”

“I don’t—I, fuck, yes.” He’d much rather finish with his face buried in your tits, but he’s already too far gone to pull away, to shove you down onto the couch.

You hum softly. “I want you to cum on me. Please.”

That’s his final undoing, groaning at the thought of him marking those cute tits that take up his every spare thought, cumming unexpectedly in a rush of white-hot pleasure before he can stop it. His cock jerks until viscous streaks of white paint your chest, and it makes everything sticky and sloppy, sending a weak burst of liquid pleasure rushing up his spine before he slumps against the couch with a satisfied sigh.

↬ GETO

He loves it when you’re like this. Soft and pliant beneath him, eyelashes spiked with tears.

He doesn’t know where to look—can’t decide between the smattering of possessive marks littering the inside of your thighs or the ones that travel across your chest.

A decision easily made for him when he presses the tip of his sensitive cock back into your fluttering cunt, unable to tear his eyes away from how your breasts bounce with every one of his harsh, desperate thrusts. His thumb smooths over a peaked nipple—bitten raw and pinched tight—and he curses under his breath at the feel of you clenching on him like a vice.

You tell him how good he feels under a hitched breath, and his chest tightens because he can’t remember the last time someone used an adjective like that to describe him. Good. It’s weird how such a simple word can make Geto’s head spin and make him feel like anything other than the man he is outside your bed.

He ducks his head down to suck another little bruise right above your nipple, the corners of his mouth curling slightly, knowing that he’ll be the only one that’ll know it exists.

“Prettiest fucking girl I know,” he breathes harshly, already close. “I wish you could see how perfect you look.”

Geto slips his fingers between you, playing over the tiny, sensitive bud at the peak of your thighs.

“Oh.” A soft sigh.

“Maybe I should take a picture, huh? Would you let me? So I can look at you like this,” —he thrusts deep, making sure you’ll be able to feel him afterward— “all damn day, every fucking day.”

And like a tightrope snapping loose, you fall apart around him, practically choking his cock, and he fills up your cunt for the second time that night.

↬ SUKUNA

You're cleaning the apartment you share with your step-brother until it's spotless because the guy you’ve kind of had a crush on since the start of the semester is coming over today to study, and the butterflies in your belly tell you today is the day he’s finally going to ask you out.

What you don’t anticipate—between throwing away Sukuna’s collection of energy drinks on the coffee table and doing a load of laundry—is the possibility of getting stuck in the too-small dryer while reaching for a sock or that your brother would be the one to find you bent over with your shorts riding up your legs.

You suppress a groan at the sound of Sukuna's patronizing voice behind you. "What do we have here?"

"Don't just stand there, idiot," you hiss. "Help me."

He chuckles in that mean, condescending way that always sets your teeth on edge. "You're really bossy for someone with their ass hanging out of a dryer. Maybe I should leave you here and wait for Mick—”

“His name’s Mitch—”

“—to find you."

"No!" you say almost too loudly, wincing as your voice echoes around the dryer. With a small sigh, your head hanging, you add, "Please help me."

"That's better."

It's quiet for a moment, and you start fidgeting again to free yourself until you feel a pair of large hands palming your hips, and you can't stop the squeak that escapes the back of your throat—not expecting the terrible-hot-wrongness of it to feel so good.

A feeling stirs in your belly that you’d tucked away long ago, and only returning to under the safety of the baby blue twinkle string lights in your room—hand in your sleep shorts and teeth digging an imprint into the palm of your hand to hold back the name you only chant in your head.

“You’re s-supposed to be helping,” your voice wavers, dizzy with what’s transpiring in that cramped laundry room.

He huffs a soft laugh behind you, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine where your shirt rode up. “Give me a minute.”

It's embarrassing when you feel wetness pooling in the seat of your underwear, heat rushing from the roots of your hair and down to your toes when his hands travel over the swell of your ass in your tiny shorts.

You're almost compelled to tell him you’ll get out on your own because it’s the right thing to do—to put a stop to something that shouldn’t happen except in cheap porn. Then his hand comes down against your backside, hard, and every single thought in your head scrambles like an egg on hot pavement.

You whimper, the force of his slap jolting you further into the dryer, sweaty hands scrambling against the metal walls to keep your face from crashing into it.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do that,” he breathes before tugging the crotch of your shorts and panties out of the way, and you feel something wet and slick drip against your cunt. "Maybe I'll just keep you here for a bit. What do you say, sis?"

His thumb runs along your slit and presses inside you.

“Ah. W-wai—”

“Shh. Just—fuck, so fucking tight—just let me enjoy this pussy, huh?” And quieter, “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You shiver and swallow around the words threatening to escape: me, too.

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lowkeyren · 5 months ago

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BUT YOU BELONG TO ME!

in which — some jealousy headcanons / scenarios for our favourite luofu men!

featuring — dan heng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 1.8k, from req: here!, they're so silly goodbye, march + fu xuan cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!!!

#DAN HENG

look me in the eyes and tell me dan heng wouldn’t be the “i'm jealous, but i don’t wanna show it” (but it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that he’s jealous) type, you can’t.

definitely amusing to watch him play it cool, cus he has nothing else going on in his brain when you’re within 10 metre radius from him.

honestly it would have to be quite specific situations if he ever gets jealous because he likes to keep you close by his side as often as possible. dating or not, he would have some sort of protective instinct —always making sure you’re secure and cared for. (and yes of course march teases him for it, he never admits it though.)

dan heng tries to focus on the book in his hands, but his mind refuses to make any sense of the words on the page —at least not when you’re standing so close to boothill. (too close for his liking anyway)

the cyborg sits at the opposite end of the couch where dan heng was, while you deftly adjust a compartment of his, engaging in small talk as he makes lighthearted jokes with you. dan heng hears your laughter ring out; the laughter that he adores so dearly, the laughter that never fails to warm his chest, and the laughter he wishes he was the reason for instead.

his eyes flicker up from the page to sneak a glance at you, the way your hands glide over boothill's body churns an ugly feeling, twisting in his chest. he shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the unease remains.

his focus on you is suddenly shattered by a loud voice that belongs to no other than march, "dan heng, if you grip that book any harder, you might tear off a page." she stands in front of him, hands on her waist.

“the way i am holding my book is perfectly fine, now if you will, i must get back to re—”

“oh c’mon! we all know your ass is not actually reading that book!” he raises an eyebrow, and march only rolls her eyes in response. “it’s literally upside-down.” she teases, unable to hold back a chuckle.

dan heng glances down at the book in his hands, finally noticing the upside-down text, to which he quickly closes the book and puts it down. "maybe i was just testing your observational skills.”

march shakes her head, "yeah right… just admit you’re too busy staring at them!”

“no i’m n—” he begins to protest but is interrupted when you suddenly appear in front of him. “staring at who?” you tilt your head curiously, and he can only hope that you don’t hear the loud thumping of his heart.

march giggles as she runs off to who-knows-where, he silently curses her for leaving him in this predicament. he manages to regain his composure, though his cheeks retain a faint pink hue. “ahem, anyway…” he trails off when you sit down next to him, your thighs brushing against each other.

alright you can’t keep doing this to him. he’s not a cyborg but it certainly seems like he’s malfunctioning at that moment. (though he doesn't mind if you have to “repair” him next; he considers it far preferable to having your hands on boothill anyway.)

#BLADE

this guy REEKS of jealousy.

he gets jealous over anything —saying “good night!” to an acquaintance? well unfortunately, i don’t think they’re going to be having a very good night; a friendly smile from a passerby? the sudden chill in the air accompanied by his sharp glare is enough to make them rethink their life decisions.

and the worst part? he knows it. he's aware of how irrational his jealousy can be, but that doesn't stop the surge of possessiveness that washes over him.

(deep down, he just wants to feel secure in your attention and affection, but it’s true that his jealousy sometimes gets the better of him.)

blade’s “things to get rid of” list exponentially grows with each passing day, ranging from general items he sees no use of, to addresses of people who have wronged you in the past.

but there’s one item on the list that stands out from the rest, the one item he can’t seem to bring himself to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

37. “blade plushie”

okay but what kind of website is “stellaron hunters fan merch for sell.com” anyway? since when do they have a fanbase, and why did you have to buy a plushie of him, of all things?

he shoots daggers at the plushie sitting on your bed, on his side of your bed. while he can't always be by your side, surely there's no need for an inferior replacement?

blade sits down beside you, discreetly moving the plushie out of the way. just as you turn to reach for it, he wraps his arm around you and snuggles up to your side; you immediately pause at his affectionate gesture; his hair brushes against your neck as he buries his face into it.

“blade.. what are you doing?” you turn your attention to him, much to his delight.

“why not spend more time with the real deal instead of… that.” he tightens his grip around you, at this point he isn’t even trying to hide his jealousy (over a plushie lmao) anymore.

"you mean mr. edgelord...?" you barely manage to stifle your laughter as blade shoots up beside you. doesn’t hurt to tease him for a bit, right?

“what did you say… “edgelord”?” he scoffs, his face twisting into a scowl. he can’t believe you gave that thing a nickname, how ridiculous. he makes a mental note to get rid of it asap.

“yeah, what about it? jealous that he’s better than you?” you smirk, leaning in close to his face. perhaps you’re enjoying his expression of pure bitterness a little too much, who knew such a handsome face could look so hilariously indignant?

his eyes twinkle in amusement, before closing in the distance. “hah, never.” his tone tinged with a touch of possessiveness that he can't quite hide.

“really? you seem like you’re about to kill it.” you wrap your arms around his neck, his expression softens for just a split second, but you’re able to catch it anyway. “would you please spare mr. edgelord if i give you a kiss?”

he doesn’t respond with words; he presses his lips against yours, gently cradling the back of your head. (you quickly turn mr. edgelord to face the wall before blade pulls you away)

maybe he’ll spare “it” for another day or so, just don’t let him catch you hugging “it” in your sleep again, alas you want “it” to suffer the same fate as the others on his list.

#JING YUAN

hmm our beloved general… well he trusts you, and believes that you won’t do anything rash; but on the other hand there are just some things that neither of you can control, whether it’s letters sent in to ask for his hand in marriage or admires trying to sweep you off your feet (before he can).

though not many people would approach you once your relationship goes public, given that he’s the general and all. but imagine him before the two of you became official, clinging to you to fend off your admirers, and the expression on their faces when you shake your head, denying that you’re dating at all.

“as for the situation at cloudford— general, are you even listening?” fu xuan furrows her brows, and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. “ah my apologies lady fu, please keep going.” jing yuan only flashes a half-hearted smile at her before glancing over to your direction again.

you feel a pair of eyes boring into your back, undoubtedly jing yuan’s; but you pay it no mind, choosing to focus on the discussion at hand. his grip on his teacup tightens when he sees the foxian talking to you leans closer to catch your words. fu xuan raises an eyebrow in concern, unaware but still sensing the rising tension; his eyes visibly twitch the moment their hand brushes against yours.

“lady fu, let’s reschedule our meeting for another time. i believe i have some… important matters to attend to.” jing yuan rises up from his seat before fu xuan can reply, swiftly making his way towards you.

you’re startled by the sudden feeling of jing yuan’s arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, as he places his chin against your head. “sorry to interrupt, what’re you two discussing about?” the foxian is taken aback by the general's sudden appearance, and especially by your current position with him.

“n-nothing general!” the foxian seems to hesitate before continuing, “if it isn’t rude to ask, are the two of you…in a relationship?” jing yuan’s face lights up with his usual lazy smile, but this time it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

your eyes widen in surprise as he presses his lips against your nape, you shiver at his touch, a rush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. you should deny it, to say that you're not in a relationship at all, but you can't bring yourself to. instead, you divert your gaze from the foxian, hoping to spare yourself any further embarrassment.

“go on, tell them.” he whispers lowly so that only you can hear him. this bastard, you’re going to give him a stern talking to after this..! “sorry to cut this short, please excuse us.” you give a polite nod before pulling the general away.

two days later, as you’re walking along the streets of central starskiff haven, you come across a group of people gathered around a stall. curious, you head over to check out what’s happening. —you’re absolutely mortified to discover stacks of articles detailing recent events of you and jing yuan.

“breaking news! the general is secretly married?!” / “the truth behind general jing yuan’s relationship status” / “rumours confirmed: a detailed guide to the general of luofu’s relationship saga”

well at least the pictures of you and jing yuan got your good side… and your bad side, and your “i definitely did not sign up for this” side. and oh look, there’s one of you dragging jing yuan by his ponytail too, how wonderful, you’re definitely purchasing that one.

but yeah no, you’re not beating the allegations after this.

masterlist

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steor-ra · 1 month ago

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Bring back the dead (1) (2)

Y!batfam x neglected!Gn

(Read author's note in the end for more information/updates!)

Sometimes you've wondered if there's a another universe where you'd be happy.

Perhaps in another universe, you would have a loving, caring family, much like the other kids at the park who always have genuine smiles on their faces while you look on with enviousness and a heavy heart as a child. You've always wondered, though, what if things had turned out differently, what if your mother had truly wanted you as a child so you wouldn't end up with your biological father, or maybe bruce payed more attention to you instead of that stupid costume and crowl.

Your stomach would sometimes churn at the prospect of being loved; it didn't seem right. Perhaps you didn't enjoy the sound of being loved because you've become accustomed to feeling neglected. It no longer hurts when Bruce passes past you or you see any of your siblings hanging out.

Maybe you just don't know what it's like to feel loved.

you've seen how Bruce cares for others, including Gotham's villains, to whom he pledged to defend everyone strolling down the shallow street full of evil.

You've seen how he'd be there if Dick was seriously injured, how he'd be comforting Dick as you stand beside the bed Dick is lying on, completely discarding you, as if Bruce is presenting you with a reality you've always desired, shoving it in your face that the only time you'll ever receive attention from him is through your imagination. it hurts to see that Bruce could actually care if someone is hurt, no matter how big or small, whereas, despite being deeply scarred by an abusive drug addict mother, you knew that Bruce won't care if you are dying right now; there are other problems in Gotham he needs to deal with. Atleast that's what you thought, maybe there's a tiny bit of hope?

It's perplexing when you feel the green-eyed monster tighten your heart when you witness the Wayne 'family' joyful without you because your gut always tightens the same way when you imagine yourself standing alongside them.

It just didn't stick right to the fantasies of being doted on like Damian by his siblings, admired like Dick, constantly praised for your intelligence like Tim and Barbara, having your father's attention the same amount as Jason, being cared for like Stephanie or Cassandra, and being loved by your father, Bruce.

The family was odd, to be sure, but that didn't stop them from being so talented that you stood out like a sore thumb; sometimes you just wish that, aside from Alfred, at least one of them wasn't a vigilante who would rather fight criminals who killed a child than admit that they themselves had killed one.

But what if you had a much more different life than this one?

Maybe you'd be an only child; you've always felt like one, but maybe now that your siblings are gone, Bruce's attention would be focused to you, and maybe you two could finally go on father-child dates. You can't picture what Bruce would be like during it though; will he still be the cold 'father' to you? Or will he be compassionate, like he is with Damien? The questions wrecked your fantasies, so you abandoned them, just as your mother did to you.

Or perhaps you'd be the oldest; like Dick, you'd have younger siblings who would look up to you, see you as a figure, and possibly love your younger siblings in ways you never were. You'd adore your first baby sibling till the last, making certain not to disregard anyone, like Dick did to you.

Or maybe you'd be one of them, one of the bat-vigilantes, fighting alongside them, with many skills to blend in with them; maybe you wouldn't be neglected now that you're a vigilante; you'd be in Batman's care, and he'd give you attention through training; and maybe Damian wouldn't harass you for being "useless" just because you're not on their team. As a vigilante, you might get harmed all the time, but it wouldn't make a difference in this reality, would it?

It aches to know that the only way you'll ever be able to receive affection is through fantasy, even if the imagination felt cold and lonely, which probably because you didn't know what it feels like to receive warmth from your family.

It's complicated but that's okay. You won't ask for it now that you know you're dying without ever experiencing love from your supposed father, Bruce, or being saved by Batman, all in the name of protecting others who are worthy of his presence.

You are not afraid of dying, but the idea of being alone during it is frightening. You feel sorry for yourself, knowing that you will be alone until your dying breath.

Even until your last breath, you'd be mumbling their names like a broken mantra, praying for them to save you, the same way you had when you still believed in their promises.

It hurts so much. everything aches in both ways.

In comparison to the other kidnappers, the kidnapper is brutal and shows no mercy. This time, the adductor is the well-known Joker, and you're frightened This is the same villain who carelessly attempted to beat Batman nearly every day, who viciously murdered your brother Jason, and who rendered Barbara crippled. Joker is the guy who wrecked your family, so hearing his name should send shivers down your spine.

You screamed in agony as the joker tore your nails one by one; your head ached, and all you could hear was a loud pitch ringing. You're covered in bruises and blood, from head to toe.

It didn't help that all you could think about was the possibility of dying without anyone knowing, which terrified you. All those nights and days of ignoring you in order to save the city meanwhile when you're genuinely in need of help from your family whom are heroes, will also ignore it, and it breaks you.

Are you actually a burden to them? Are you truly that worthless that you can't be spared this torture? Not to be rescued by your own father? Is anyone considered part of a family? All you did was ask for a savior coming from your vigilante family. Was that a lot to ask for?

Suddenly, all of the pain felt numb, and a knife has been plugged into your chest, leaving an aching hole where your heart should be. The nasty, jagged bit of steel soaked in thick red that dripped from your chest became your best friend; it sticks closer to your heart more than anyone else has ever been.

The ringing drowned out Joker's maniacal laughter as he crackled at the way your eyes went blank and your body slumped.

"Aw man~ this bird is sooo boring" he sighs dramatically "no wonder brucie didn't care"

"Poor you~"

And with that, you fell unconscious

Dick has never felt so guilty since his parents' deaths and for making the Robin a legacy, causing some deaths and permanent damages, but those feelings fail in comparison to the guilt he is experiencing right now. The more he watches the videos you've made over your time at the mansion, the more he wants to scream and rip his hair out.

He thinks it's lovely at first because you enjoy capturing your life through vlogging; that was the first thing he learned about you, and if he brings you back, he'll make sure to learn every single action. But you're of legal age to do and go whatever you want, and he knows that, the guilt of not knowing your age is killing him, and the realization that he and others have practically disregarded you your entire existence stings. He's supposed to be a figure to everyone; he's become one to whatever child Batman comes, as well as others all across the world, so he feels bad that he wasn't a brother figure to you. God knows what trauma you've been through being neglected all your life.

But that is beneath the point. He's currently looking back to the day you were first brought to the manor. Alfred was the one who welcomed you and offered you a digital camera to entertain yourself. Dick knows this because he saw it at the beginning of the video.

The video quality is awful; he figured because this was filmed years ago, there isn't a date specifying when it was made; still, you're cute; the first time he sees your face, he's stunned. When did you get that cute?

When he first met you personally, you appeared lonely, shy, and sad. It's like he is witnessing a totally different person on the video. Was his first impression of you mistaken all along? He's ashamed to admit it, but the way he first saw you was one of the reasons he avoided you; he didn't expect to ignore you for the rest of your life though. He feels like a jerk.

"I'm finally going to meet my real dad; I can't believe it's Bruce Wayne as well! I wonder if I'll also meet his sons, or my brothers," you grinned at the camera as you showed around the house. "It's sooo big; I hope I could play hide and seek with them, I love that game"

Dick couldn't help but smile at your grin, which turned into a grimace when he realized they'd never engaged with you properly. He groaned and went to the most recent video. This time, you're older, with heavy circles under your eyes; you appeared exhausted, but you smiled at the camera anyhow.

Candles have laminated the room, and a little cupcake is placed in front of you. And Dick's heart dropped when he spotted the calendar behind you, only 5 months after you taped this, and it was your birthday. Dick remembers spending the weekend at the manor with his siblings and, apparently, everyone else except you. His eyes saddened as you began singing Happy Birthday to yourself. There are cracks between some lines, yet your voice is soulful, even if you appeared soulless at the time. Dick can't help but be impressed by the way your voice sounds in Harmony.

The video ended when tears has finally fallen from your eyes , and dick is a mess; he was sweating, his eyes were dilated, his hair was tangled from how much he was nervously pulling it, and he appeared to have witnessed something horrible. Oh God, his chest is clenching so hard that he can't breathe. He feels like a monster.

He grabbed his phone with shaking hands and searched for you on social media, but there was nothing. There is nothing for websites. There's some humor about you in papers, but whereabouts are you currently There is nothing. And Dick knows that he needs to ask for Bruce's help, your father. Dick is furious with Bruce right now; how could Bruce not be aware that you had moved out? If he did, why didn't Bruce remind him of your presence? Did your father also ignore you?

Do the family knows about your existence here in the manor?

Dick was about to have a panic attack if a notification hadn't appeared unexpectedly. Dick's heart breaks as he receives a text message from an unknown number with a photo of you unconscious and beaten.

(Next chapter)

(A/n: Thank you for all y'all support, I hope you enjoyed reading this🤗💞 and I'm really sorry for the wait, will repeat though 😓🥲 taglist is broken lol )

Taglist: @nosyrobin @dhanyasri @sheepintherain @hasty-desert @m3ntally-unstable @cupids-pretty-boy @bat1212 @illytian @lilyalone @lafemmii @sweetconnoisseurgardener @ch1cky-093 @shycreatorreview @tdickensstuff4 @vanilliona @theblonde777 @purplelady22 @imacollosssaltitan @brrrr-brain-machine-broke @pi1nkl0ver @fantasyhopperhea @caffeinatedvigilantewriter

#– bring back the dead🖤#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere batman #yandere batboys #neglected reader

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chososdiscordkitten · 9 months ago

Text

Just A Taste.

Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•

Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play

Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33

(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music

MDNI

Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.

Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you.

“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.

And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.”

Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.

But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.

As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.

Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards.

“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.

This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.

Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple.

So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could.

At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink.

He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.

And you always said no.

But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears.

So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.

You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in.

He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't.

The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky.

You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.

His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.

True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.

His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes.

With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed.

Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side.

He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,” he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso.

“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice.

Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge.

It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk.

But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags.

Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear.

You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear.

You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.”

Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words.

His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed.

You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.

Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words.

And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.

Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that.

Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation.

With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.

You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it.

Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth.

His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.

Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out.

The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world.

It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.

No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.

Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.

Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have.

No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.

But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite.

That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.

Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine.

With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.

Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat.

Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple.

Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice.

Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.

Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes.

You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning.

That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some.

That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats.

You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.

His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.

Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.

And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.

You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin.

You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.

Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge.

Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.

You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way.

Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.

You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction.

And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment.

For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.

You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.

And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast.

You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple.

Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead.

The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.

It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.

Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows.

It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable.

Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.

It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip.

His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.

Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again.

The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child.

Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now.

He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple.

Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.

Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either.

Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself.

And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return. Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed.

Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten.

Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles.

You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake.

Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click.

But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way.

Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense.

Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach.

The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers.

Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.

Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again.

Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple.

Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine.

As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand.

And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes.

When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.

He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time.

“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump.

“Call me and I'll find you.”

You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath.

Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom.

“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question.

Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.

“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks.

You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago

Text

The Alley (and Your Boyfriend?)

Minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. ~2.8k words

Jason Todd is your ex-boyfriend. Kind of. You dated, yeah, sure. But it was in high school, years ago now. You had moved away before the school year had finished, and both of you agreed to remain friends, to keep in touch.

Life had different plans for both of you. The last time you had been in Gotham was for his funeral, so you think you deserve some leeway if you're staring at the man across the bar who looks just like him. Well, not exactly like him.

You're supposed to be celebrating your new job in Gotham, the apartment you've finally unpacked with your friends, but his eyes.

You could never forget the color of Jason Todd's eyes. Not when he was your first everything. Not when you know how his eyes would glint before he stole a kiss. How they would shine as he whispered sweet nothings and pretty promises.

(Okay, so maybe he was more to you than you're willing to admit. Maybe he wasn't just kind of your boyfriend.)

You'd probably be lost in thought over the color of his eyes for the rest of night, if his gaze didn't happen to meet yours.

Heat spreads across your face, and you duck your head. Shit. He caught you staring. The big, attractive man across the bar who has the eyes of your dead ex-boyfriend caught you staring.

That's fine. Mortifying, yes, but you quickly focus back on whatever your friends are talking about, trying to play it off.

You're finishing your drink, hoping he brushed you off, when a low voice cuts in, "Can I buy you another drink?"

Your eyes snap up to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Your train of thought halts to a stop, he's ever prettier up close.

Before you've even managed to find your words, your friends are pushing you up and out of your seat, scrambling over each other to agree that he can absolutely buy you a drink.

He tilts his head a little at you, feet firmly planted against the ground as he waits for you to answer, "Is that a yes from you, doll?"

"I– yes. Thanks," You stumble out, and you might have gone a little weak in the knees at his grin.

He guides you over to the bar, and holds up two fingers as the bartender comes over. "Whiskey, and whatever they want."

You ask for a refill of your drink and sit beside him at the bar before introducing yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "I'm Jason."

"My ex was named Jason," You blurt out, then wince. That's probably not what anyone wants to hear when they're introducing themselves. And it's definitely not what they want to hear while trying to pick someone up at a bar.

He hums thoughtfully, "I don't remember breaking up with you."

You blink at him, is that some kind of a pick-up line? "No, I meant, I really dated someone named Jason in high school."

He grins at you, "I know. I was there."

You frown a little, "Like in the same class?"

He laughs. It's a really pretty sound, if you weren't so confused, you would have swooned, "No, doll. Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"

Your gaze hardens, "If this is some kind of a joke–"

He says your name, effectively cutting you off, "It's me."

"He died," You murmur, so quiet it almost gets lost under the beat of the music.

He shrugs, and pushes your drink towards you as the bartender sets it down, "I got better."

"Prove it," You retort, fingers tapping the glass of your drink. You're this close to up and leaving. It makes your stomach churn, not knowing what game this man is playing.

He gives you a familiar, lopsided grin, "Prove that I got better?"

You scoff and go to stand up, but you waver at how he actually seems upset over it.

"Hey, hey, wait," he protests, holding out an arm to block you from leaving, "We had our first kiss in the back of Wayne Manor, in that old gazebo covered in vines. You asked me out because I was so obviously head over heels for ya, but I was too scared to ask. You said you'd wait for me when your family moved, and I said I'd wait for you too."

Your breath hitches at his rambling, it's–all of it is true. Memories you held close to your chest but never let yourself relive because of how much they hurt, the bittersweetness of it all. "Jason," You breathe out.

He relaxes, and smiles at you, "Yeah."

"How are you..." You trail off, taking in every inch of him. How much he's grown. How much he's changed.

He rubs the back of his neck, "It's, uh, a long story. It's not very nice either."

You nod slowly, "We don't have to talk about it."

He looks genuinely surprised, "We don't?"

"No, it's just good to, you know, see you," You tell him. It's the truth, whatever story he's carrying, whatever events brought him here, doesn't really matter right now. Not as long as he's alive and in front of you.

"It's good to see you too," Jason tells you, and you feel butterflies when he reaches over to touch your thigh, "Hey, am I really your ex?"

The absurdity of the question makes you want to laugh, "It has been a while since we talked, Jason."

You do giggle when he actually pouts at you, "You said you'd come back to Gotham for me one day."

"I am back in Gotham," You point out, "Got an apartment here and everything."

Interest sparks in his eyes, "Yeah? You're staying around here?"

You hum noncommittally, "In Gotham at least."

It surprises you, how easy it is to slip back into a flowing conversation with him. You reminisce about your shared past, he asks you what you've been up to, how your life has been, and before you know it, your drinks are empty and the bar is informing you of it's last call.

"Can I walk you home," Jason asks, hovering at your side, "or call you a ride?"

Your friends had long since told you they were leaving, and you have the urge to make this night last a little longer. It may be selfish, to want to stay in sight of those eyes, but you let yourself be selfish, "Walk me home?"

The way his eyes sparkle tells you you made the right choice.

You really do mean for him just to walk you home. So you're not exactly sure how you ended up making out with your ex-boyfriend in a dirty alley way.

It makes your head spin, how his hands dig into your waist to tug you closer. How he chases your mouth every time you pull back to suck in a breath.

It's desperate, needy, and you want to keep your fingers curled into the cool leather of his jacket forever. Jason crowds your space, backing you towards the wall, he trails kisses down your jaw, occasionally nipping at your skin to leave pretty, bruised marks.

"Wait–" You start, digging your heels into the ground.

He pauses, and pulls back, "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to–"

"No!" You practically shout, not wanting him to misunderstand, "it's just– the wall is dirty," You finish weakly.

He blinks, then grins at you, "Is that all you're worried about, doll? Just the wall?"

You nod, sheepish as you fidget with the zipper of his jacket.

He hums thoughtfully and kisses the crown of your head, "I got something for ya," he murmurs, tugging off his leather jacket.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he drapes the coat over your shoulders, and guides your arms through the sleeves, "There, better?"

"Better," You echo, much more willing to let him push you against the wall, to let him suck your pulse and press his hands under your clothes. The leather is soft, smells like him, and the bricks behind you don't even register as he presses against you.

You're both eager, both grasping at fabric and skin. Your eyes light up, when as you're licking a stripe up his neck, Jason tilts his head back and moans.

It's a noise you want to hear again, and when you take his ear between your teeth, you're rewarded with another sweet sound.

Neither of you waste any time to push aside the clothes you're wearing. Half-dressed and panting, you fumble with his belt in the empty alley. He doesn't hesitate to hike your leg over his hip, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw.

"You're sure about this," Jason asks, lips hovering over the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

"Yeah," You breathe out, tangling a hand in his hair to steady yourself, "Are you?"

"Never been more sure of anything," he says firmly, and bites down on your skin as if to seal his words as fact.

He's hungry, as he captures your mouth with another passionate kiss, and you're just as desperate and wanting. Desire pools in your gut as you grind your hips into his, voice pitching into a whine, "Please?"

The neediness in your eyes when you look up at him nearly makes his knees buckle, "Fuck, yes, doll. Whatever you want."

He's not one to make you ask again, and shamelessly presses a finger to your cunt. "Look at you," he breathes out, slowly pumping one finger in and out, gathering your wetness, "You're dripping."

You don't bother choking back the whine that escapes your lungs, only grab his hair tighter when he adds a second finger, carefully working you open for him.

His eyes, your breath catches, when his eyes seem to darken, coveting every reaction you have, every expression that flits across your face.

"Feels good, doll'" he coaxes, scissoring his fingers. When all you manage is a hazy nod, he grins and adds a third finger, curling them as he presses deeper, "C'mon, you can use your words."

"Jason, yeah, feels good," You answer, breathless and full of desire. You squirm, bucking your hips into his hand in an attempt to get him to move faster, "but I want you."

He hums thoughtfully, and presses the palm of his hand to your clit, grinding into the sensitive flesh. When your eyes flutter and your body clenches around him, he coos in approval.

"Good," he says fondly, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly pulling his fingers away. You almost pout at the loss, but the sight of him lewdly licking off the remnants of you in his hand more than makes up for it.

Your jaw may have dropped, and you may have looked a little more dumbfounded than you're willing to admit, but any embarrassment turns to excitement when he lines his cock up to your weeping pussy.

Neither of you looks away as he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch. It turns you into a whimpering, groaning mess as you sigh out his name, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah, pretty,” He prompts, voice a low rumble as he watches you. He can't pick which sight he likes better, the way your eyes flutter, or the way you're greedily taking in everything he has to give.

He can’t help the smug smirk that spreads over his face when you mewl out his name, clearly delighted at the effect he has on you. “There you go, Doll. Let me hear you say my name again," He coos, trailing his free hand over your thigh to find your clit again.

You're eager to chant his name again when he starts to shallowly thrust between your legs. He moans when you clamp down around his dick, and it spurs him to move faster.

Jason groans deeply as he feels your body react, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushes into you again. You both breathe out a sigh of relief and ecstasy when you take him to the base of his cock.

"Good. Doing so good, doll," he mumbles, using all his self-control to hold the pressure against your cervix for a few moments, letting you adjust, before pulling back slightly.

You tug a little at his hair, it's addicting, how full he makes you feel, how desperate you are for more, "You can move, want you to move."

He hums, and seems more interested in moving his mouth along your jaw, biting and sucking his way down your neck to leave marks on your skin. Jason sucks a prominent bruise onto your freshly bitten skin until it’s pretty and bruised and all his.

You groan, and it only encourages him to drag his hand from your folds and pinch your nipple between his fingers.

"Jason," You protest, rolling your hips to try and entice him to finally move.

“Mhm. You like the sound of my name, pretty? You wanna keep saying it while I make you feel good?” He murmurs, his voice low and rough and breathless against your skin.

He starts to roll your nipple between his fingers, pinching and kneading the sensitive peak.

"Jason, move'" You whine, almost desperate. His eyes lock on your eyes, and you're completely lost to him.

His thumb gives your nipple one last swipe before he settles his hand between your thighs again, eyes raking over your face like he wants to memorize the expression of pleasure that’s taking over at the moment, "There you go, it sounds so perfect when you say my name like that."

His other hand squeezes your thigh affectionately, and before you can protest again, he pulls halfway out, savoring how you twitch around him. You cry out in pure pleasure when he thrusts back into your heat.

He swallows your cries with a kiss, and starts to pick up his pace, steady and relentless.

You can only tip your head back and moan, as you drag your nails along his scalp, panting and trembling under his grip.

“So goddamn good,” Jason mutters, pressing himself as deep as he can go with every movement. He starts to ramble your name, driving his cock against the spot that makes you gasp over and over.

He's relentless, all consuming and you almost miss it when he murmurs against your throat, "Not your ex now, am I?"

You curse, and shudder around him, clawing at his shoulder. It doesn't make his pace falter, if anything it drives him to push a little more, to move a little fast, to test your limits.

You feel his pleased smile form against your skin when you start to chant his name, breathless and needy and so, so close to the edge.

"There ya go, come for me, doll," he encourages, and when you do, when you soak his cock and sob his name, he fucks you through your climax.

He ruts into your fluttering hole until his own hips stutter, his fingers dig into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and he cums inside of you. He rides out both of your releases, fucking his spend back into you even as it starts to leak and drip down your thighs.

Jason presses his forehead to yours, going still against you, his eyes dart over your face as you both pant, sticky, sweaty, and messy. He grins at you when you blink at him with glassy eyes, "You look good like this. I could see it every day, and it still wouldn't be enough."

You're not exactly sure where he finds the energy to praise you, but it makes you tuck your face against his shoulder as you catch your breath.

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, "Gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, we're gonna cuddle till you fall asleep and I'll make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You whine softly when he pulls out of you, already mourning the feeling of him inside you, but you manage to nod.

True to his word, Jason carries you home and draws you a bath. You fall asleep with him curled around you, and when you wake up, the sound of him cooking breakfast makes its way to the bedroom.

And if you entice him to bend you over the counter before you eat, letting the food go cold, or suggest you show him just how well you fit in his lap, that's none one's business but yours.

It shouldn't surprise you, if you do encourage him to find out what you taste like on his tongue, that Jason never really leaves. Sooner rather than later, he'll make sure any use of the word 'ex' disappears from your lips.

#18+ mdni #smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #ex-bf!jason todd #jason todd smut

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deadsetobsessions · 4 months ago

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Sea Cryptic! Danny- pt. 10

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9]

“This you?”

Danny glanced at the stone tablet in Spoiler’s hands and groaned, Phantom form flickering with embarrassment as his face got even more neon green. It was indeed him.

——

The first Atlantean and Ghost King encounter went something like this:

Imagine Danny, sleep deprived. Easy enough. Now, imagine Danny, trying to corral a ghost that had a penchant for sea life.

“Alabastor, I swear to Ancients, if you don’t get back here, I’m gonna make you into ghost sea-food boil!” Danny yelled as he chased Alabastor through the ghost zone. The crustacean shaped ghost cackled, skittering along the Zone.

"Make me, Phantom! You have not seen the might of the sea!"

"That's it, soup-time, crabby!"

Danny dove after Alabastor, chasing him face first into a temporal portal and right into the sea.

"BEHOLD!" Alabastor rumbled, claws raised and sea churning around him. Danny flew at him, noticing the screaming people below. He quickly raised a dome of clear ice to protect their entire city before returning his attention back to the giant crustacean. The distraction cost him, as Alabastor blasted him with a beam of his power. "THE MIGHT OF THE SEA!"

"SOUP!" Danny bellowed back, Alabastor's power forcing him into a giant crab form, aside from, hilariously, his head. Danny, always quick to adapt, slammed a massive claw straight into one of Alabastor's eyes and popped open the Fenton Thermos with a feral grin. In but moments, Danny manages to soup Alabastor but not before slamming him down onto the unbreakable ice Danny had just made.

Carefully turning by skittering sideways, he unmelted his ice.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly to the gawking civilians below.

"Suh-ree? What is suh-ree?" A brave woman asked.

"Oh," Danny uttered as he realized that he should probably switch languages. His giant crab body and small itty bitty human head swayed in an unsure motion. "Sorry means "my apologies." I had not meant to involve you. I am Phantom."

"It is alright... thank you for protecting us... God Phantom?"

He grimaced. "Not a god."

"King, then." She stepped forward. "May I ask of the ice?"

——

Spoiler, sensing weakness like the Riddler to a riddle, leaned in. "Did you know they have a traditional dance to honor the god that gave them the unbreakable ice that protects Atlantis to this day? It goes like this," Spoiler stepped back and did the dance, complete with exaggerated arm movements and, embarrassingly, the scuttle walk Crab!Danny was forced to learn with his new crab form.

"We shall never speak of this again," Danny huffed.

"But King Phantom, the God of Eternal Ice and Protection, how could we not celebrate your iciness?" Spoiler simpered, Black Bat not too far away and shaking with laughter. The purple donning vigilante did the scuttle dance once more, picking up bottles as she went a small circle around one of Bludhaven's rock beaches.

Danny scowled and plucked the tablet away from her, hair flowing an a more agitated direction. His jumpsuit burned brighter. "Why are you two menaces in Bludhaven? I thought your territory was in Gotham."

"Nightwing asked for back up and we were in the area." Spoiler, blessedly, stopped the walk to answer him. "By the way, are you and Danny dating?"

"Pardon?" He asked, insulted but highly amused.

"Oh, you know, he has your number, and you only ever talk to him outside of us, and how you guys have a high level of communication." Spoiler said leadingly.

Oh, Danny knew what this was about now. He found out their identities and now these two are interrogating him because he liked them best. They thought they were so clever. Well, they clearly haven't gotten to know Danny at all if they thought he was going to make good decisions.

Danny tilted his head, making sure his face gets as eerie as possible, shadows elongating and eyes burning just that much brighter. The neon green of his face shone even brighter against the suddenly dark landscape of the place. Black Bat stood up, laughter seizing immediately. Spoiler tensed.

"I have a riddle for you. You are good at those, are you not?"

Spoiler blinked but gamely said, "Bring it."

"What do these things have in common? An arguing couple, papers on a stranger's desk, and Star City's robbers."

"..." Spoiler slipped into her solving mode. "Stolen goods. Stolen hearts?" She guessed.

"No. The answer is that they're all none of your business," Danny snarled. His form flickered. "Keep your questing away from Danny- Daniel, vigilante. Your duty is to protect your city and help her," Danny swept an arm out. "Stick to that instead of inserting yourself into places you are not wanted."

Then, with a toss of an ecto-crossed recorder that held the verbal report he'd promised Nightwing towards Black Bat, Danny blinked out of the visible spectrum and flew above the two.

"... Shit, I think I pissed him off."

Black Bat nodded. "He was defensive."

"Yeah... did you hear that slip? Oh, they are so dating."

Danny grinned. He couldn't wait for Tim to interrogate him soon.

——

"You're kidding."

Danny shook his head, maniacal grin still on his face hours later. He'd taken the liberty to call his best friends before classes started for the day.

Tucker groaned. "Danny, I can't believe you're messing with Batman. Why are you like this."

"Look, I need your help."

"Oh no, keep me out of your dumbass plans, Fenton," Sam pointed at him through the screen, immaculately painted black nails threatening.

"Okay, if you go along with my plan, I'll give you Dr. Isley's number."

"Deal," Sam said immediately, changing her tune at a drop of a hat. Or, at a drop of a number.

"What about me?" Tucker asked, offended. "I deserve compensation for my work too, dammit!"

"I'll give you Tim Drake's number and persuade him to let you have a crack at Wayne Industry's tech basement."

"Deal, what are we doing?"

Danny's grin spread even wider. "We're dating. And, you two? You're Phantom's exes. Tucker, you say good stuff about me. Sam? You make up terrible things about me. But we're all dating each other and I'm dating Phantom on the side."

"I hate you," Sam deadpanned. "But fine, it's not that hard. I've got tons of embarrassing stories about Phantom. You better get me that number, Danny, because you know Dr. Isley was my gay awakening."

"For Tim Drake, I'd be willing to puff up your ego." Tucker said solemnly.

"Perfect. I'm cleaning his brother of ectoplasm today. so expect a call later! Love you guys!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, boyfriend." Sam clicked off the call.

"Think Tim Drake would be interested in a date?" Tucker asked Danny.

"Nah, I think he's got his heart on Benard."

"Damn," Tucker sighed. "Guess I'll have to mend my broken heart with the tools of a state-of-the-art lab, right, Danny?"

"Yep, see ya!" Danny hung up. Today was going to be a good day.

#batman #danny phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc #sea cryptid danny phantom #danny: am i dating myself idk #the bats are good at conclusions #they tend to be right #so when they're wrong they're *wrong*#sea cryptic! danny au

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eiightysixbaby · 6 months ago

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take a dip

pairing: lifeguard!eddie munson x bestfriend!fem!reader

word count: 4.3k (this was supposed to be a short little blurb lolz)

summary: eddie wants to get you in the water with him while you're alone at the community pool. he ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader doesn't know how to swim, eddie is a relentless menace, brief food mention, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

“Get in the pool.”

“No!”

“Get. In. The pool.” Eddie's voice is deadpan, his expression flat. He holds out a hand, waiting for you to take it and let him guide you.

“It's cold! I'm going to freeze!” you whine, stomping your feet on the concrete like a toddler.

“Uuuuuuuuugh, you are impossible,” he groans, kicking off the wall and letting himself glide backwards, floating in the water.

He stops at the middle of the pool, going fully under the water before coming back up. He shakes his wild curls, blinking rapidly to get chlorine out of his eyes.

“Will you please come in? It's not even bad,” he begs, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

He'd been tasked with getting the community pool ready for opening day, and he's spent the last several hours doing just that. You had stopped by to bring him some food, and ever since you both finished eating, he'd been trying desperately to get you in the water with him. He's entirely unsure why you're being so stubborn.

“Eddie, come on, I don't want to. Can we just go back to your place?” you ask, fingers worrying at the hem of your shorts.

“We can go back to my place once you get in this damn water with me,” he retorts. You know he doesn't mean anything by it, but his relentless insistence makes your stomach churn. It's not even his fault, it's not like he knows your reasoning. You should've known that by coming here you were in for it.

You're silent, shifting your weight from foot to foot as you debate what to say next. Luckily, you don't have to speak before Eddie notices your discomfort.

“Woah, hey.” He swims back to the edge of the pool, resting his arms on the concrete. “What's wrong? If you really don't want to get in you don't have to, we can just leave.”

He reaches a wet hand out to squeeze your ankle, cocking his head to the side as he looks up at you.

“It's just...” you start, voice suddenly much quieter than it had been. “I don't... know how to swim.” It feels simultaneously amazing and embarrassing to get the words out into the open, for Eddie to know.

“What?” he asks, making you shrink into yourself. You sit down on the pavement, tucking your knees to your chest.

“Yeah, I know. It’s humiliating, okay?” you snap, defensive.

“No, no, no. Hold on,” he interjects, pushing himself up and out of the water. “How come I never knew this?” he asks softly, scooting to sit beside you.

“Well, it wasn’t something that ever really came up until you got the lifeguard gig. It was an easy topic to avoid.” You shrug, watching water drip from his body.

This was only Eddie’s second summer working at the pool, and the previous summer you’d managed to dodge the task of going swimming with excuses about carting the kids around to and from the arcade or the Wheeler’s or the mall; having to work; being on your period and not feeling like it.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to act like an asshole,” he tells you earnestly. “If you don’t want to get in the water, we won’t. I’m sorry,” he searches your face with soft eyes, remorseful.

You sigh, resting your forehead on your knees, hiding your face away. “It’s not even that I don’t want to get in. I’d love to get in the water with you,” you say, muffled. “But I’m scared.”

“I mean,” he starts, leaning back coolly, “you are sitting next to the best lifeguard in Hawkins, Indiana.”

You snort, looking up from your hiding spot. “Between you, Billy, and Heather? Not a tough competition, champ.”

He gasps, mock offended. “Rude!”

You turn pointedly to face him. “Billy’s always distractedly flirting with someone and definitely couldn’t care less if any of the residents in this town live or die. Heather is always busy gawking at Billy, and she hates getting her hair wet.”

He thinks about this. “Okay, fair point.”

You laugh, a sort of sad sound. “But!” He stands, extending a hand to encourage you to join him. “I am still a lifeguard. One that actually cares whether you live or die, and I’d very much like it to be the former.” He pulls you onto your feet. “We can take it super slow, heck, we don’t even have to actually teach you to swim tonight. We can just stand in the water, get you comfortable being in it.”

“Isn’t that… I don’t know. Silly?”

“Why would it be silly?” he asks simply. “The more you’re in water, the less scary it will be.”

You think this over, eyes flicking back and forth from the pool to your clasped hands. “I honestly want to, but I didn’t even bring a swimsuit,” you say finally, feeling a bit dejected.

“I mean, and don’t hit me when I say this—” Eddie begins, taking a step back with a smirk. “But you could just get in in your underwear.”

You feel your face heat wildly at his suggestion, feeling simultaneously nervous and intrigued by the thought of stripping to your bra and panties in front of your best friend. The intrigue surprises you a little bit, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Eddie—” you murmur, but he cuts you off.

“It’s no different than seeing you in a bikini. And I have seen you in one of those, at that car wash fundraiser for the cheer team in high school,” he says matter-of-factly, giving you no real reason to back out.

And truly, you don’t want to.

“Okay, fine,” you huff, playing up your reluctance. “Turn around,” you motion in a circle with your finger, and he rolls his eyes before turning his back to you.

You slip out of your sandals before peeling your shorts off, letting them pool around your ankles. Your shirt comes next, and you hoist it over your head before tossing it onto a lounge chair with your bottoms.

There’s a very subtle chill to the air, the full heat of summer not yet present. It kisses your skin, making goosebumps erupt all over.

“Okay, get in the water and close your eyes until I’m in,” you tell him.

“You do realize I’m going to have to look at you at some point?”

“I know! Just— not yet.”

“Fine.”

He lowers himself back into the water with a slight splash, covering his eyes with his hands. You giggle at the sight, feeling like you’re playing hide and seek and he’s counting.

Slowly, you step over to the pool’s edge, sitting down and letting your feet dip into the water. It’s cold, too fresh to have been heated by the sun, and it sends a shiver running up your body.

“Eddie, it’s really cold,” you whine, already knowing he’ll be having none of it.

“Yeah, ‘s why you have to just get all the way in in one go.” You hesitate, but as if he can read your mind, he goes on. “Your feet can touch here, nothing’s gonna happen. Promise.”

His eyes are still covered, and you bite back another giggle. You know you’re safe with him, and you swallow your nerves as you slip fully into the water. The level of depth keeps the waterline at the top of your chest, your head and shoulders remaining dry.

“Can I look now, your highness?”

“Shut up. Yes.”

He removes his hands, grinning at you. “Look at you! In the pool with me.”

You allow yourself to smile a little, too, although you feel silly for celebrating the mere fact that you’re standing in a pool.

The look on Eddie’s face doesn’t let you feel silly for very long. He’s practically got stars in his eyes. In fact, you can’t help but notice the way they seem to linger on your lips, trailing down to the soft hills of your breasts. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

He holds his hands out to you, and you take them, letting him walk backwards while you follow. He moves slowly into the deeper end, and your toes try their hardest to cling to the bottom of the pool the further you go. You’re about to back away, return to the shallow side, but he does damage control before you can run.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, pulling you close to him as he wraps his arms around you. “Put your legs around my waist.”

You oblige, albeit flustered, wrapping your limbs around his thin waist and letting your chests press together, your arms hanging loosely around his neck. You become acutely aware of the way your core rests barely exposed against the fabric of his swim trunks, and suddenly you feel like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of this portion of the world around you. You swear you hear a rather strangled breath leave him, and you wonder if this proximity is affecting him the way it seems to be affecting you.

You find yourself more enamored than ever with the tattoos littering his body, black ink scrawled into his pale skin. Your eyes trace constellation patterns between the freckles splattered on his torso, holding yourself back from reaching out to touch them.

In Eddie’s arms, you’re safe in the water, and your nerves ease as you try to shove down the butterflies that roam beneath your ribcage. It’s just Eddie, being close to Eddie isn’t anything new.

But being this close to Eddie while you’re both barely clothed, is.

He holds you easily; you’re weightless in the water, which allows him to maneuver fluidly. The water is still cold around you, but your body feels like it’s hot enough to start boiling it. Eddie’s fingers press into your thighs to keep you supported, and suddenly it’s the only sensation you can focus on.

“Still cold?” Eddie asks, and it makes you visibly startle.

“N-no, not really,” you choke out. If only he knew.

He raises a brow at your demeanor but says nothing more, and you wonder how long he’ll float around with you for. You wonder how long you can take it before you start clawing at him like a rabid animal.

Your lack of inhibition alarms you, your sudden hunger toward the man in front of you new and slightly terrifying. Eddie’s always been attractive, but in an objective way. In a way you never felt like you really needed to act on. You could admit that he was attractive and also remember that he was your best friend, and that trying to go any further than friendship would be moronic.

But right now, you think you’d let him swallow you whole.

You’ve zoned out, looking blankly at the illuminated blue of the pool, and when you focus back in you notice that Eddie is staring at you, unwavering.

“What?” you ask him, but it comes out as little more than a whisper.

“Would it be fucking crazy to kiss you right now?” he asks, his usual boisterous attitude gone. He’s nervous.

Your heart swells, battering against your ribs. “Maybe. But you should do it anyway.” You swallow hard, watching as his wild eyes search your face. You feel a peculiar sort of giddiness, like a child that's about to snatch a cookie from the jar when they know they aren’t supposed to.

You only hope this won't come back to bite you in the ass.

Everything seems to go quiet save for both of your shaky breaths, Eddie's hands curling into your half-wet hair as he presses your back against one wall of the pool. His lips meet yours so softly, encouraging your mouth to open and move with his.

Your brain feels like it's lagging, unable to catch up with what's happening. You would've expected this to be awkward, clumsy, embarrassing — but it's none of those things. His lips slot against yours like they were made to fit there, and you find yourself wondering why you never did this sooner.

He draws back, grinning wildly. You're sure your expression matches.

“I can't believe it took me so long to do that,” he admits, eyes eagerly searching your own.

They look especially dark now that the sun has set, yet something in them seems to sparkle.

“I was thinking the same thing,” you respond. He laughs and you join him, clinging tight to wet skin.

When the laughter subsides, you let him kiss you again, his tongue licking experimentally into your mouth. It makes you clutch him even tighter, deepening the kiss before he can think about pulling away; encouraging his tongue to test the waters further. You grind your core against him before you can register that you're doing it, pulling a throaty groan from him, and that's when you feel it. The outline of his hardening cock strains against his swim shorts, brushing up against you just right to create a delicious jolt of friction.

You pull back to look at him, grinding against him once more in hopes of eliciting more sounds from him. His eyes pinch shut, his mouth falling open in a curse. You can see the pink blush in his cheeks even in the fading light of day.

“Fuck, baby.” Baby, you think. That's new.

“Yeah?” you ask, taunting him just a little bit. “Does that feel good?”

“Fuck yes, god. Makin' me feel like a horny teenager,” he chuckles, a strained and breathy thing. You can tell he's trying hard to keep himself together.

But maybe you don't want him to.

You let your lips attach to his neck, wanting to see how far you can go before he gives in; before he can't hold back any longer.

He takes in a sharp breath when you begin sucking on his soft skin, aiming to leave a bruise in your mouth's wake. His head tips, further exposing his neck to you, and you move to cover more of the pale surface. His cock is fully hard now, or at least it feels like it, rubbing against your core as you continue to grind against him to the best of your ability.

“Shit, you're driving me crazy,” he says, digging his fingers into your hips.

“What're you gonna do about it?” you ask, challenging him in a moment of surging confidence.

His expression darkens, his index finger reaching beneath your chin and tilting it up, until you're looking at him. “Do you really want to do this?” he questions, arching a brow. His question holds a double meaning: Do you really want to try me? and Are you sure you want this, with me?

You're certain about both.

“Yes,” you breathe, barely audible. His lips are mere centimeters from yours, his finger still hooked under your chin. He stays like that for a moment, as if judging that you're sure, and once he seems to find his answer it's like something in him snaps. He lets go.

His lips press to yours, hot and urgent, his hands digging firm into your thighs. You swear every inch of skin he touches turns molten as his palms roam to squeeze fistfuls of your ass, new territory that sets you on fire. Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, your mouth open as he licks into it with a hunger like no other. His teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging it as a whimper escapes your throat.

“You're so fucking gorgeous,” Eddie nearly growls, his voice wrecked, like simply saying the words makes him want to bust. “Need to have you, baby, let me have you.” His mouth is dipped close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout you.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, rolling your hips into him yet again. He groans, eyes falling closed and hands digging harder into your skin. Like he's bracing himself.

When his eyes open again, he takes a moment to just study you, scouring every inch of you that he can see.

“Look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs, nosing at your cheek before pressing another kiss to your lips. His words make your cheeks burn. “Just so it's on record, I was a fucking idiot for not kissing you sooner. God, sweetheart,” he says, making your heart pound. Another kiss.

“I'm just as big of an idiot,” you reply, tangling your fingers in his damp curls.

When you tug on them, a low grumble of a sound leaves his throat. “Fuck, you're gonna kill me.”

He reaches behind you, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand as the other slips down to caress your breasts. He lets his fingers glide over the fabric of your bra before dipping them beneath the cups, squeezing one and then the other. You gasp, throwing your head back with a whispered curse of his name.

One corner of his mouth twitches up in smug amusement, his head tipping down so he can kiss at your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. You let your legs fall from around his waist, feet planting on the bottom of the pool. His hand traces down your side, stopping to toy with the waistband of your cute cotton panties. You suck in a breath in anticipation of his next move, and you exhale when his warm hand slips beneath the fabric, cupping your sex in a calloused palm.

You let your own hands wander, trailing your fingers down his toned chest until you reach the drawstring of his swim trunks. His breathing grows shallow, his cock kicking up against your hand when you cup his bulge through the smooth material. It sends a wave of satisfaction through you, at the fact that you have the ability to make his body react in such a way.

Meanwhile, his fingers tease your core, drawing loops around your entrance, almost dipping in but not quite. You involuntarily rut your hips against his hand, body desperate for more.

“Aww, a little needy, are we?” Eddie smirks, squeezing your ass with his free hand.

You frown. “You're making fun of me,” you whine, looking at him with big sad eyes, exaggerated in your attempt to garner his sympathy.

“Nooooo,” he coos softly, folding entirely as he leans in to kiss your pout away. You smile, kissing him back and letting your hand dip beneath his bottoms.

He makes a little ‘aah’ sound, letting his hips roll against your hand, providing more friction that he so desperately craves. Your fingers wrap tentatively around the base of him, and your eyes widen. You don't need to see him to realize how big he is. Your hand runs up and down his length, your breath hitching in your throat at the thought of fitting him inside of you; the stretch he'd provide. You never thought you'd be experiencing this with Eddie of all people, but you're not about to complain.

He finally dips two fingers inside of your throbbing center, the sensation making your vision blur. You want him so terribly, more than you think you've ever wanted anyone, and it all seemed to come out of nowhere. He feels incredible, and he's barely done anything.

His fingers reach deep, curling at your sweet spot, making your back arch. You lose focus on the way you were teasing his cock, your hand freezing in place as he fucks you on his fingers.

“That feel good?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face expectantly.

“Yes, fuck, Eddie,” you praise, brow furrowing as his fingers start to move quicker. “So fucking good.”

He seems satisfied with himself, smiling almost shyly, and it only makes you want him more.

“Ed, please—” you croak. “Need you inside me,” you press, pawing urgently at his shorts in an attempt to push them down his legs.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Okay, baby, I got you,” he reassures, removing his fingers from your core and instead grabbing the base of his cock and tugging it free from its confines.

You're nearly trembling with desire, each second agonizing as you wait to be filled up by him.

“Take these off,” he instructs, tapping at your hipbone over the fabric of your underwear.

You do as told, awkwardly pulling them off and tossing the soggy garment behind you.

“God, that was so sexy,” he says, making you snort.

“Shut up and fuck me, Munson.” Your smirk reaches your eyes, a glint of recklessness coursing through them.

“Fuck. Yes ma’am.”

He instructs you back into your previous position, your legs around his waist, opening you up for him perfectly. He looks down, guiding himself to your entrance to the best of his ability through the wonky lens of the water. He isn’t sure if he’s quite got it until a gasp escapes your lips, your nails digging into his back.

And then he’s pressing further in, not too much but enough to get you to make more pretty sounds for him. You cry out from the feeling of him parting your walls, a delicious pleasure-soaked burn that has your eyes screwing shut.

Eddie’s having none of that, though.

“Nuh-uh,” he rasps. “Look at me. Need to see your face while I fill you up.”

Your eyes open slowly, head lolling deliriously to meet his stare. His eyes are heavy-lidded, lip sucked between his teeth as he gives you more of him. His cock is thick, an intrusion the size of which you’ve never felt before. You feel full to the brim and he’s not even balls-deep yet. The thought makes your head spin.

His eyes are so gentle, deep and familiar pools of brown that feel a lot like home. It’s obscene, the juxtaposition between lust and adoration you feel for him.

“God,” he grunts, “you’re so tight around me, baby. Can feel you squeezing me.”

You whine in response, his cock finally sheathing itself entirely within you. His name escapes you on a high pitched moan, and you see a blaze of fire pass behind his eyes. He’s feeling this aching desire just as much as you are.

“Please,” you beg. “Please fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he purrs. “You want it?”

It’s teasing, he’s mocking you and your impatience to be ruined by him. In any other circumstance you’d tease him right back, but you’re too drunk on him to care.

“I need it. Please, Eddie.”

“Shit, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he replies, steadying himself with one hand gripping the concrete edge behind you.

Your back is pressed firmly to the pool’s wall, Eddie’s chest pressed to your front. You’re caged in, loving your proximity to him. He gives you one final glance before his hips begin to rock into yours.

His thrusts are fast, yet you feel them in slow motion. Every inch of his cock dragging out of you before pushing back in, the fat head of him pressing deep inside. Your body feels like it’s on fire in the best way, the water around you doing nothing to extinguish you. Eddie is the oxygen, bringing you roaring to life, and you don’t want any bit of it to stop.

You cling onto him, your wet hands not getting much grip against his wet shoulders. Your breath comes out in spurts with each thrust he gives you, a repetitive ‘ah-ah-ah’ with each snap of his hips to yours.

“Christ, sweetheart,” Eddie pants. “Feel so fucking good on my cock, holy shit.”

A half-smile graces your lips, and he leans forward to snatch them in a heated kiss. The combination of his warm tongue slipping into your mouth and his cock pressing perfectly against your sweet spot has you reeling, tension winding itself tight in the pit of your stomach. Your hands move to hold his face, keeping him right where he is. He smiles against your lips and it makes your heart soar, pulse pounding in your chest.

Every thrust sends pangs of pleasure straight to your gut, and you know you won’t last much longer. How can you last, when the sounds he’s making are sinful and his cock fits inside of you like it was made to be there.

“Fff-uuuuck,” he groans, eyes screwing shut. “I’m gonna cum, babe, where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you croak, barely getting the word out in your breathless state. Your head is lolling back, eyes closed in complete bliss.

“Shit, are you sure? Look at me — are you sure?” he asks, tilting your chin up.

“Yes, Ed. Please,” you insist, hurtling towards your release.

He gives you a few final thrusts, hard and fast before he’s twitching inside of you, giving you all that he has for you. Your name falls from his lips again and again; a chant, a prayer. You’re cumming within seconds of him, clamping down around his cock as pleasure crashes over you in heavy waves. Your legs grow weak, barely able to keep yourself wrapped around him. He senses it, holding you up as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant, chest heaving with each breath.

Eddie’s watching you intently, waiting to make sure you’re okay, that you enjoyed yourself. That you aren't going to leave. That this wasn’t a dream.

When you meet his gaze, a lazy smile tugs at your mouth.

“Please tell me that was as good for you as it was for me,” Eddie says, leaning to press his forehead against yours.

You laugh lightly, arms looping around his neck. “Yeah. It was,” you chew at your lip, suddenly feeling shy again.

“Come on, let’s get you dried off,” he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your soft lips, before fully pulling out of you.

You wince at the loss of him, hands pressing against his chest when he moves to lift you out of the water.

“Wait,” you say, halting him.

He cocks a brow, hands resting on your hips.

“You never taught me how to swim,” you murmur, feeling a newfound boldness.

“Well shit, sweetheart. If all I had to do to get you to learn was fuck you, why didn’t you say so?” he jokes, bellowing a laugh when you slap him, more a spray of water than any actual impact.

“If you want the chance to do it again, Munson, I suggest you shut your mouth,” you quip, smirking as he gives you a mock salute.

“Once again — yes ma’am. Let the swimming lessons commence.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

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sweetnothingtm · 4 months ago

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okay this is soo wild but please hear me out… inspo 🧟‍♂️

zombie!könig (think warm bodies) who falls in love with you during the apocalypse. he sees the glow in your skin, so gentle and warm. he feels the rhythm of your heartbeat, the way you smell like flowers - zombie!könig becomes instantly obsessed, and he must have you.

your first date ends with you sobbing uncontrollably, kicking and screaming and begging him not to eat you. zombie!könig tries to calm you, groaning and reaching for you with fingers soaked in blood. it’s okay, he won’t harm such a sweet little lamb - just a taste, just a feel, just the sound of your breath hitching as he moans out his name in introduction.

he protects you from the other undead, groaning and snarling at them when they smell your sweet skin. he snaps his teeth, pulling you closer to him to mask your scent with his. he follows the beat of your heart to wherever you go, lamely pawing at the door when you close it behind him.

he can’t come home with you, it’s just too dangerous. but you promise you’ll return. so zombie!könig waits for you, gnawing on rotting flesh and imagining that it’s you, warm and inviting and making him drool.

zombie!könig who you came back to, hesitant and unsure like an innocent lamb sent to slaughter. you flinch when he reaches for you, stomach churning as he touches your chest and feels your heartbeat. but he’s so gentle with you, fingertips dancing along your flesh in awe.

he doesn’t understand how you feel so warm, how your skin is so soft and unmarked by rot. zombie!könig tilts his head in curiosity when he gropes your chest and you laugh awkwardly. there's a deep need for him to seemingly feel your heart in his hands. your voice is sweet and slow, and he’s mesmerized by the way that you whisper to him.

and when you accidentally cut yourself in front of him, the blood a dark simmering red that pulls at zombie!königs sanity, he bites his hand to stop himself from harming you. he won’t ever hurt you, little lamb. he’ll always protect you. yes, you can trust him - you can love him.

zombie!könig who has a carnal desire to taste you. he wants to taste your flesh, your blood, your insides, your heart, anything of yours he can get his hands on. he’s so desperate and lonely, a spark igniting in his brain at the idea of consuming you whole. he wants you. he needs you.

zombie!könig who can’t eat your actual insides, what he imagines as so soft and supple - so instead he goes down on you for his own pleasure.

he has his eyes locked on your features, hands covered in grime pressing against your thighs as you breathe shakily. zombie!könig can hear the beat of your heart, how your blood is rolling over with fear and desire. you make him promise he won’t bite, not even a nibble - and he’s so head spun with need that all he offers is a guttural groan and curt nod of his head.

zombie!könig whose instincts take over as he’s going down on you, tongue pushing against you and lapping at the skin. he wants to go deep, explore every inch of you and taste the forbidden fruit. his mouth moves sloppily, a deep hunger making him suck and kiss. his drool is coated against your soft and warm skin, and he has never tasted a flesh so delicious and addicting.

zombie!könig who can feel his sanity slipping away as you tighten your thighs around his head, squeezing and squirming underneath his touch as he snarls and grunts for more, more. you taste so heavenly, so alive and warm and sweet. the creamy wetness between your thighs smeared all over zombie!königs face, soft moans escaping your lips as you beg him to continue.

zombie!könig who feels you cum all over his tongue, letting you mewl and gasp for air as he continues to lick and suck at the skin. he’s so hungry, touch starved, so cold and lifeless. but you’re so sweet, he can’t help but graze his teeth against your skin and look up to you with bloodshot eyes.

zombie!könig whose hunger for flesh has been satisfied by you, so warm and gentle and kind, ready to be devoured by him.

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marvelsswansong · 1 year ago

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perfectly poisonous pair

summary: the three times Coriolanus realizes you're his perfect match, his eternal soulmate: darkness and all.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and dark soft!Corio with equally unhinged reader (an anon previously said morticia x gomez addams vibes), fluff, violence, non-canon compliant, CW for graphic descriptions of violence, kidnapping, murder, possessive/dark thoughts - please take care of yourself first!

☆ word count: 6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Marriage is, at first instance to Coriolanus, an institution and an act that he doesn't quite see the point of.

The legal and financial benefits, sure. But committing himself to one person, to be bound to them body, heart and soul for the rest of his life? That level of vulnerability and permanence feels too foreign. Too abstract, even, that thinking about it quickly makes his stomach churn with sickness.

Coriolanus spends the majority of his upbringing, consoling himself that he doesn't have the time to worry about such things as romance. After all, there was always the next bill to pay and the next threat of eviction to dread.

Not to mention, he thinks, no one will truly ever get him. Not even grandma'am or Tigris understands his inner being. The man deep within his guts, the cunning voyeur who enjoys violence and manipulation. And if they only knew, he believes, they'd be horrified.

No one really knows Coriolanus for who he is. And no one will truly be able to understand what it's like to feel and think like him.

So marriage is completely out of the question for him.

At least for a long time.

Until he meets you.

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

the beginning: "must be a coincidence."

You're the first person (other than the wide-eyed idealist, Sejanus) to treat Coriolanus with kindness at the academy.

You come in as a transfer student mid-way through the semester and he comes to notice the small ways with which you show your appreciation for him. Slyly backing up his answers in class discussions. Smiling at him in the hallways. Sticking up for him in conversations, not caring if the others give you odd looks for defending a 'clear outsider' amongst them.

"If you ever need anything, you can always count on me." you'd once told him after school, his knees barely brushing against yours in the car you've invited him into so that he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing cold.

Suppressing the urge to interrogate the reasoning behind your kindness, his numb fingers felt sudden warmth when you delicately placed a crumbled up note into his fist with your address in it.

"Stop by whenever you need something. Don't suffer alone, okay?"

He never takes you up on your offer.

At least, not until a few months later, when he finds himself knocking on your door late at night. Three in the morning to be precise, with a busted lip and dark red stains blossoming across his white shirt.

And when you open the door, you don't react to his disheveled state in the same way he'd expect from his family. No pity and shock like grandma'am, nor is there a trace of light apprehension and fear like there would be from Tigris.

Instead, your eyes crinkle with kindness as you invite him inside your home and sit him down on a nearby chair in the living room.

"How bad is it?" you ask, cutting him off with a stern glare before he can lie. "And don't lie to me, Snow. I need to know if you're going to need a drive to the hospital instead of my attempts at first aid."

Sighing, the blonde gives in, his bones aching too much to put up a fight.

"Not that bad, I promise." he grumbles, trying to keep his breathing normal as you lean in closely to examine his injuries. At this proximity, he can see the reflection of the overhanging yellow lights in your irises, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration before you leave the room and return with a soft towel and warm bowl of water.

"Could you look up for me?" you question, your cold fingers steadying his neck to carefully crane it upwards.

The warm, wet fabric in your hands then trace the edges of his jaw, picking up the droplets of blood scattered across his face.

Keeping his eyes forward at the line of bookshelves by the fireplace, time seems to slow down. His senses are overwhelmed by your hairwash - rosemary and vanilla, he thinks - and the room is awfully quiet. All he can hear is the muted sounds of your soft breaths and the rustling of leaves outside, the pale moonlight creeping in through the gaps of the floral curtains in the dead of December.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" you ask, now switching your attention to the trail of blood buried into the crevice of his neck. You cringe right afterwards, almost wincing at your audacity. "Sorry, you don't have to say if you don't want to."

If anything, it just makes him smile. He likes seeing you embarrassed, he thinks.

"No, it's fine. I'll say. It was just... a party gone awry. Felix managed to convince everyone to go downtown."

You frown at the mention of the downtown area - it was common knowledge that it wasn't safe to wonder the south of the Capitol this late at night, especially if you were obviously from central.

"And then?"

"Got jumped. Felix and his friends ran away quickly. Sejanus got caught up in the mix and I couldn't just... leave him."

Coriolanus hates admitting the slightest sign of weakness, that perhaps he had a friend he cares for, so he's eternally glad that you don't dwell on it. Humming in response, you squeeze the towel in your hands, the water below now a murky shade of brown.

"And how much of this blood is your own? Do I need to get the sewing needles out?"

"I-"

His response is staggered by brief flashes of the fight playing in his mind. He recalls there being a lot of heavy breathing and fast movements. A slash there. A broken nose there. His feet driving down onto the man's chest repeatedly, down, down, down - he hears bones cracking at some point and Sejanus is suddenly pulling him backwards, begging him to stop but Coriolanus can't-

"Coriolanus."

Your voice snaps him out from his dazed state. He then swallows nervously, not knowing how much is safe to disclose.

"I'm fine. Really. Just some bruises and a split lip. The blood is from dodging a few knife attacks and the criminals stabbing one another."

It's a half-truth, really. Coriolanus had dodged a few stabs his way, but only because he tripped the man charging him and grabbed the knife instead to drive it into the man's sides. Enough to severely wound, but not kill. He feels the soles of his left shoe drag on the floor, the fabric nearly coming off from the repeated force with which he'd stepped on the other accomplice's ribs. It makes his jaw clench with embarrassment.

If you notice it's a lie, you don't say anything.

You ask him if he can undress, so that you can wash his clothes for him. After all, you tease in a lighthearted manner in an attempt to lift the mood, you still have school tomorrow at eight.

"You can leave the dirty clothes hanging by the chair outside the bathroom. I think you're overdue for a long, hot shower."

All arguments die in Coriolanus' mouth when he realizes how nice this feels. The foreign comfort of being cared for by someone else, of having his guard down and following someone else's lead for once. So he wordlessly follows you to the bathroom in the back and discards of his dirtied clothes outside.

The hot water is a nice luxury, the scalding temperature starting to erase his memories of the fight. He rubs his scalp raw and watches the water beneath his feet fade into the drain, the steady dripping of water droplets calming his mind.

When the blonde finishes, he comes out and sees that you've folded a set of new, clean clothes for him by the door of the bathroom (your father's old clothes, he learns). Once changed, he wanders outside and finds you hanging the freshly washed clothes outside on your front lawn.

"You should go home, Corio." you say quietly. "Your cousin and grandmother must be worried sick." you look back at him, a reassuring smile on your face.

"How... how can I ever repay you for all this?" he finds himself asking, desperate for an answer. Surely, you'll want something back for this. Certainly, this was all to get something back from him-

You shake your head sideways, waving your hand in dismissal.

"There's no need to repay me. I like to think you help me out every day at school, so think of this as more of... a much delayed gift."

Once you're both back inside the house, no longer shivering from the cold, he finds the silence to be oddly tense. You're in your sleepwear, after all, a silky night dress stopping right above your knees with a gray knit cardigan on top.

He swallows, nervously. He hopes you can't tell how fast his heart is beating.

"Uh, thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"You really don't."

"I really do."

You roll your eyes playfully.

"The only person who owes me anything is Felix. He shouldn't have suggested you all go to downtown when it's dangerous, and he especially shouldn't have left you and Sejanus to nearly get stabbed to death." you spit, and your angry expression makes him chuckle.

"Ah, well, but he is the president's son. What can we do." he jokes. A small grin flickers onto your lips for half a second at that comment.

"So he is. Good night, Corio. I'll see you tomorrow."

It's initially an uneventful day for Coriolanus the next morning when he walks into the academy, naturally catching your eyes from across the room. You give him a reassuring nod from behind the door of your locker, where the majority of your attention is being held up by an overeager Felix - your assigned partner for the week.

Due to his schedule, Coriolanus doesn't see you again until lunch time. By which the newest rumor sweeping the academy has been the sudden violent illness which has fallen upon the president's son.

"I heard he was puking blood." he hears Clemensia whisper to Arachne, who nods furiously.

"Sejanus had to carry him to the medic's office - Felix looked like a half-dead ghost."

He's itching to speak to you as he quickly rounds the corner and runs up the flights of stairs leading to the library, where he's shared many lunches with you before. He knows your favorite sport by heart, that being the cozy seat under the large arched windows overlooking the front lawn.

As expected, he finds you there, sitting cross legged and gazing out towards the lawn. Upon closer inspection, he sees that you're watching Felix get escorted into a dark vehicle, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Have you heard that Felix is sick?" Coriolanus carefully asks, sitting down from across from you. You turn to him, your face scrunching up in sadness.

"Yes I have. Terrible news, really. Something about nasty nausea and uncontrollable vomiting."

Your tone is sympathetic and your face has all the features of genuine worry, but there's a small twinkle in your eyes that indicates a secret.

It makes Coriolanus delirious with want.

"And would his illness have anything to do with you being close to him as his project partner?" he questions, sliding in closer towards you to keep his voice down.

He looks down at your lips then back up at you, smirking.

"Just seems strange, don't you think? Given that he seemed just fine last night?"

A half-second smile, you shrug.

"Must be a coincidence."

He kisses you right then and there.

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

the point of no return: "you're quite a messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Finding you is a miracle to him.

And now that you two are officially dating, he sees the glimmer of hope for something permanent like marriage in the future.

But Coriolanus is still unsure of the publicity of that kind of arrangement, which leads him to request that you two keep the relationship under wraps. At least until graduation, he justifies, to keep the romance hidden away from the judging eyes of the faculty and fellow classmates.

You don't seem the least bit bothered by the news, your lips only quirking up into a warning smile as you tease that you may then have to bring other men as dates to public events to save face.

At the time, he'd just shrugged at that, playing it cool. "I don't get jealous easily." he'd said confidently.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It's only after he becomes your boyfriend that he becomes acutely aware of and sensitive to how desirable you are to others. Visitors to the academy flirt with you openly, not knowing that Coriolanus is watching from the background, fuming with anger. Your male classmates are too eager to carry your books for you, their body leaning ever too close towards yours when you ask them to pass on the papers in class.

But this, right now, seeing you with another man at the spring gala... It feels different.

Those people, the strangers and classmates, you let down firmly but gently. Those people, you wouldn't even let their hands hover above your skin, always placing a firm distance between you and them. Those people-

Fuck.

You didn't smile at those people like you're smiling at this date of yours. The tall, dark haired man's arm is lingering just above your waist, too close for Coriolanus' comfort, and his thoughts turn lethal when the man leans down to whisper something in your ear that seemingly makes you laugh.

It takes everything within him to not lose control then, when Sejanus speaks up.

"You alright?"

His friend's voice cuts into the tirade of violent thoughts playing in Coriolanus' mind, the whiskey starting to taste sour in his mouth. Forcing another sip of alcohol, he meticulously coaches himself to nod along, feigning disinterest in you and the mystery man.

"Just fine, Plinth." he grits out, but with his steely blue orbs not deviating from where you and your date are standing, it's obvious to any bystander that he's lying. So Sejanus chuckles, nudging the blonde playfully.

"Yeah right. Though, I'm not surprised that (Y/n) brought him along." Sejanus takes a sip of his wine, before pausing at seeing the blonde's expression remain hardened. "You do know who he is, right?"

"Am I supposed to?" Coriolanus scowls.

"That's Harrison Bramford. His grandfather was one of the main generals back in the days of the war and his family single-handedly leads the weapons manufacturing industry in Panem."

"Hm." is all Coriolanus says in response, the revelation doing little to appease his anger. His left arm rises in a reflex to force more alcohol down his throat, only to find the glass half empty.

"I need another drink." he announces, not caring to hear his friend's response.

Sliding into the bar, he hears your soft laugh and whisper before you disappear into a nearby hallway, leaving your 'date' alone. Out of the corner of Coriolanus' eyes, whilst he leans forwards and pretends to watch the bartender grabbing him another glass of whiskey, he sees the tall dark haired man also beelining towards the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." Harrison growls, nearly slamming his glass down onto the counter. It's only then that Coriolanus lets himself look into the man's light green eyes, taking care to keep his expression fairly neutral and his voice calm.

"Rough night?" Coriolanus asks, deciding to play the unassuming role of a concerned stranger. Harrison chuckles, wiping his hands on his thighs whilst shaking his head.

"You have no fucking idea. Women are such pieces of work."

The blonde tastes blood with how hard he bites his cheek in an effort to stay silent.

"Your whiskey, sir."

He's grateful for the interruption of the bartender sliding his drink down towards him, as with every word leaving your date's mouth, Coriolanus is feeling his rage boiling and threatening to spill over like toxic waste.

"This chick asked me to come here tonight, you know? Me. A Bramford. I put up with her annoying stories and stupid questions all night, I even held her fucking bag for her to go to the bathroom." the man rants, his skin starting to twinge red with how fast he was speaking. "But will she even let me kiss her? Nooooo. Apparently it's too quick. Wouldn't even let me grab her ass."

It's then that your boyfriend finally loses it, and there's a muted sound of something shattering and the feeling of something sticky and hot running down his right hand. There's a few gasps of shock, the bartender hurrying over with a spare napkin as Coriolanus' blue eyes adjust to the blurry scene in front of him.

He's shattered the glass in his hand.

"Shit, you alright?" Harrison asks, leaning over to see and then pulling back with a disgusted expression after seeing the bloody sight. Remaining calm whilst pulling out the chunks of glass, Coriolanus chooses to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yep. Sorry, not used to..." he pauses, trying to find the right excuse. Instead, he finds a brilliant plan. "Not used to going so long without smoking."

The dark haired man nods in agreement, seemingly sympathizing.

"Ah, I get you. Nasty withdrawal symptoms, huh? Seen a lot of my buddies get them whenever they try to quit smoking."

Securing the makeshift tablecloth wrap around his injured hand, Coriolanus pushes his chair in with his legs, his uninjured hand strategically reaching into his pockets.

"I think I need a cigarette. Care to join?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the overwhelming scent of cigarettes spayed over the man's clothes.

"Why not."

Suppressing a smile, the blonde leads the drunken man out the door and far away from the venue, down a few shady alleyways and into narrow dirty streets crowded by graffiti and trash bags.

"Uh... you sure this is the right way?" the man behind nervously asks, and Coriolanus almost wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic he finds the man's fear.

"Don't worry, Bramford. Just avoiding the 'no smoking' signs and security guards by the venue."

Once the blonde is sure that they're both sufficiently far away from the venue, at a dead end alleyway sandwiched between a run down bike shed and abandoned dumpsters, he stops in his tracks. Coriolanus then uses the split second of confusion felt by the other man to strike him directly in the chest, forcing the taller man's entire body down.

Grabbing the nearest object next to him - a wooden crate- Coriolanus smashes it into bits on the man's head, whose face is now pressed up against the dirty cement.

"You absolute piece of shit." Coriolanus swears, adrenaline pumping through his veins in irregular rhythm as his boot kicks into the pained man's ribs repeatedly. "You disgusting, vile, privileged piece of shit."

Each insult is compounded by a stronger kick, the three glasses of whiskey and pure rage emboldening his thoughts and strengthening his attacks. Coriolanus thinks he may have heard a bone or two cracking, but he isn't sure. He can't even bring himself to care, not when his mind's fixation switches to the enticing sight of a broken glass bottle laying to his right, the jagged scars glistening under the moonlight. Coriolanus snatches it up in half a second, before pressing the edges of the makeshift blade against the whimpering man's throat.

"W-why are you doing this?" Harrison barely gets out, mouth already filled with blood, his gasps stuttered in pain.

The blonde only chuckles, his left knee coming down to press the man further into the ground, right hand beginning to trace the edge of the glass down the man's neck.

"Because, Bramford. You denigrated the love of my life. You dare try and place your filthy hands on her. Hell, for the crimes of your family and your disgusting behavior tonight, I should do the Capitol a favor and ki-"

"That's enough, Corio."

Your boyfriend nearly drops the bottle in his hand out of shock at hearing your voice ring out from behind him, the development so unexpected that for a second he almost wonders if he's hallucinating. But no, when he tilts his head backwards, he sees as clear as day you standing there with an amused grin on your face.

"Darling, I-" Coriolanus begins, stepping back up carefully and setting the glass bottle aside (but far away from Harrison's reach).

You just shush him, that ever-so-understanding twinkle in your eyes, your heels clicking on the uneven cobblestone as you stand with your body right up against his.

"I warned you about this, you know." you sigh. Coriolanus frowns, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd be jealous. He's just a toy, love. Nothing happened nor was ever going to happen tonight." you assure him, taking his uninjured hand in yours and squeezing it in comfort. You frown at the sight of his other bloodied hand, but he waves it off as an explanation for a later time.

"It's not that I don't trust you, petal. It was just... this scumbag was speaking about you in a revolting manner. I just couldn't contain myself." he slowly explains, a mix of guilt for being caught and anger for not being able to finish his actions creeping in. "He deserved it."

"Not denying that, love." you assure him again, smiling. "But goodness... What a mess you've made. You're quite the messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Coriolanus then can only watch, mesmerized, as you walk up next to Harrison's squirming body on the floor. Crouching down next to the man, you tut, as if you're saddened by the sight in front of you.

"Here's what's going to happen. We'll do you the favor of making it looking like you had too many drinks and got robbed. We'll take your wallet and expensive jacket. You'll survive, only a few major injuries but nothing life-threatening, and that's the story you'll tell your father and his friends." you pause, letting out another sigh, as if explaining this whole ordeal is tiring you. "In return, I will keep quiet about your nasty drug addiction to your father. One more strike and you're out, as your daddy said, so let's not aggravate him further. Deal?" you ask, smiling sweetly.

When the man stays silent, only letting out pained breaths in response, your right hand snaps out to press his face further into the concrete.

"I said, do we have a fucking deal, Bramford?"

Coriolanus finds himself completely transfixed by the attractive sight playing out in front of him: your pretty face scrunched up in fury, your delicate fingers dipped in blood as the man beneath you pathetically sobs and agrees. You then smirk, harshly dropping the man's head back down. Your boyfriend is by your side immediately, taking off the man's jacket as you pocket the wallet, your eyes finding Coriolanus' once more.

"I think I'm in love with you." the blonde confesses, the words coming out faster than he'd anticipated. It's a mix of things that causes the sudden confession, the adrenaline from having beaten a man nearly to death, the way your hair is being caressed by the harsh winds, the smell of your sweet perfume mixing with the harsh stench of copper in the air...

It's all making him dizzy and lovesick.

But all you do is roll your shoulders back and chuckle, kissing him quickly on the lips.

"I know."

But, Coriolanus thinks, you can't know - the real depths of his love, the unbridled fire now lapping at his skin, the overwhelming desire to claim you as only his.

And when he finally comes back home, he digs through his cabinets and finds the family ring. Swallowing thickly, he stores it in a small jewelry box and tucks it right underneath his bedroom's windowsill.

One day, he knows. He'll marry you.

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

the final act: "sorry for worrying you."

He'd meant to propose sooner.

He really did.

But then the games happened, his victory came with the assistant position to Dr Gaul and a full ride scholarship to university from the Plinths, and you'd be called away to District 2 to assist on your family's business operations.

Coriolanus missed you, fiercely. No amount of blurry phone calls and monthly visits lasting no more than the short weekend could satisfy his ache for you. Your melodic laugh. Your soft touch. Your witty observations and jokes, your soft breathing on his chest when he'd hold you at night.

But it's necessary, you'd remind him, lips trailing across his cold skin. It was how you and him were going to conquer the Capitol. Together.

On an assuming Tuesday in April, on the day you were due to arrive in time for Tigris' birthday, the phone rang in the mansion. The housekeeper, mid-way through dusting the library in preparation for your arrival, had come running into Coriolanus' room without even knocking. He'd woken up bleary eyed, a few swear words of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, all of which dissipated upon seeing the alarmed look on the housekeeper's face.

"It's for you, sir. Says it's urgent."

Brows furrowing, but not thinking anything much, Coriolanus answers the phone.

"Coriolanus Snow speaking." he mutters into the receiver, eyes still foggy from the remnants of sleep. The voice on the other end chuckles, a dark and pompous sound which makes him scowl in annoyance.

"Mr.Snow... when was Miss (L/n) set to arrive in the Capitol?"

The sinister question jolts the blonde awake immediately, a quick glance at the clock hanging by the door confirming his worst fears. It was four am, at least three hours past the time you were set to arrive.

"Is this a ransom call?" Coriolanus growls into the phone, his fingers clutching the receiver so tight his knuckles were beginning to redden. Teeth aching with how tensely he's clenching his law, his frantic eyes find the housekeeper's worried ones, before he urgently signals for the older woman to fetch the guards roaming the front of the property.

The stranger on the other side only chuckles in response, clearly gleeful at the distressed sound of Coriolanus' voice.

"I'm not sure, Mr. Snow. Would you like to perhaps ask her instead?"

The string of curses and violent threats bubbling under his throat never get spoken when he hears the sudden shuffling of feet and muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, before your voice fills his anxious ears.

"Hi, Corio."

Huh.

You seem awfully relaxed for someone taken as hostage.

Yes, he recalled having numerous discussions with you about such a scenario occurring once Coriolanus' status was elevated in the Capitol and you'd agreed to take on some share of the family business. And your boyfriend also knew that you'd grown up training in archery and fencing, so it wasn't as if you were wholly unprepared to defend yourself.

But still, it shocks him how your voice is completely aloof and calm, with even a hint of a smile at the end of your sentences.

"Hi, darling. Are you alright?" he carefully responds, pondering if you are perhaps being held at gunpoint and forced to speak in an unnatural manner. But you just hum in response, the same noise you'd make if he'd asked you something simple like what you wanted on your toast, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just don't forget to water the lilies, they get very temperamental this time of the year. Wouldn't want a repeat of last April, now would we?" you joke, and Coriolanus feels himself slightly relaxing into the conversation.

"Of course not."

"And don't forget you promised me pancakes the moment I came back to the house. I've been missing your banana pancakes dearly."

He can almost picture your smile at that comment.

"Well then... you should hurry back soon." he calmly responds, only for the phone to then be ripped away from you and the stranger's voice returns - grating and aggravated. Coriolanus can tell that your kidnapper is frustrated and dumbfounded by your seemingly calm disposition and mundane conversation with your boyfriend, a revelation which fills him with great satisfaction.

"If you still want her alive, leave a suitcase of $20,000 by the coordinates sent to you. You have two hours."

As if on cue, the housekeeper rushes back in with a note - tied to a bird sent over to the house, she says - and the security team behind. Unravelling the coordinates written onto the piece of paper, and looking back at the clock, Coriolanus' mind whirls with endless possibilities.

Explaining the situation in brief, he directs three of the guards to go out into the location with a briefcase loaded with fake cash - one to drop off the bag, the other two to keep extensive watch to see who picks it up. The other two, he commands to stay by watch at the house.

Sitting in an unmarked van whilst staring at the spot where his security guard had placed the suitcase, Coriolanus' leg won't stop bouncing up and down.

He's riddled with anxiety and doubt, hating himself for being unable to protect you, worrying about your whereabouts. As even if you sounded awfully calm and capable on the phone, a part of him can't help but wonder if that was all for show, to prevent him from worrying too much.

A torturous hour passes before Coriolanus gets a call from the housekeeper.

"Sir, she's home."

He nearly drops the phone.

"What?"

"Miss (Y/n) is home. She is sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of tea as we speak."

It's a blur as Coriolanus commands the car to race back towards the house, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he bursts through the doors of the main hallway.

And there, calm as ever with a light grin on your face, is you.

You're sitting in his favorite velvet cushioned chair by the dining table. Your face smeared with blood, your clothes are torn and hanging in loose threads, and your hair is wet, red crimson droplets falling onto the floor in steady drips. And as the sun rises over the estate, the golden light illuminates your hairline and Coriolanus swears he sees a halo above your bloodied form.

"Hi, love. Sorry for worrying you."

Without a single word, he rushes over to you and nearly yanks you up to a standing position, backing you up against the wall to kiss you fiercely. Your knees almost buckle from the force with which he grabs your neck, his shaky breaths so desperate, his hooded eyes still looking into yours as his left hand suddenly shows a ring box in his hand.

"Marry me, darling."

You blink twice, surprised at the sudden action, as he chuckles and laces his fingers with yours - blood on blood.

"We're perfect for each other. You are my soulmate, my perfect pair: body, heart and soul. Truthfully, I've had the ring with me for almost two years now, but it never felt... quite right." he pauses, taking in your shaky, happy smile. Your cold hands warming in his embrace. "Not until now. You're the one for me."

"Even if I bleed all over your kitchen?" you croak, as he slides the cool metal onto your ring finger, before kissing your bruised knuckles.

"Especially if you bleed over my kitchen. As long as it's not your own blood, of course."

It's you who closes the gap this time, nearly tackling him with the force with which you kiss him, arms encircling around his back. Smiling into the kiss, he tastes the mix of your strawberry lipgloss and the metallic hint of blood on your lips, an intoxicating combination.

When you two finally part for air, the silver band now glistening on your ring finger, Coriolanus chuckles.

"Now, would you like those banana pancakes?"

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

epilogue: "nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

"I think I'm starting to see a gray hair. on you, Corio."

Your husband scowls at the playful joke in the bedroom mirror, standing up to straighten his tie as you get changed in the walk-in closet.

"Please, I'm barely 30. Are you sure you're not hallucinating, darling?" he fights back, and you peek out half-dressed from the closet, pouting.

"You're questioning my eyesight now? How could you be so cruel."

Your faux sour expression is quickly kissed away by two cold hands cupping your cheeks, and you would've lost the balance in your heels had he not steadied you immediately, his hands dropping to your waist.

"Aw, I'm sorry, petal. Will you ever forgive me?"

You pretend to think about it, cocking your head sideways.

"That would depend."

"On what?"

"Mom! Dad!"

Your snarky response is cut off by the sound of small feet pattering on the marble floor, the front doors swinging open as a small figure runs straight to you and crashes into your legs. A spitting image of you and Coriolanus, your daughter, looks up from your knees before grasping onto her father's hand.

"Up, please."

Clearly amused by the sudden burst of energy in the room and his daughter's politeness even in moments of silliness, he crouches down and picks up the squealing child who comfortably settles into his arms.

"Guess what."

"What is it, honey?" you ask, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes.

"I got the highest score in my entire class on my math test."

"Wow, that's incredible, sweetheart." Coriolanus practically melts on the spot, bouncing the child up and down as she giggles into his neck. "You are the smartest person ever, Belle."

"Not as smart as mommy." she sasses in response, looking up at you for approval. You coo, ruffling her hair affectionately before looking up at your husband with raised eyebrows.

"See, Corio? Even our daughter is kinder to me than you are."

He rolls his eyes in response, left hand sneaking out to pull you in close as his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Nonsense. I love both my girls equally." he says, only for the picture perfect moment to be interrupted by another figure rushing into the room.

"Mrs Snow, the car's just arrived for you by the fr-" the intern freezes in his steps, having clearly caught the Snow family at a private time. You of course don't mind, just being amused by the situation, and your daughter is just curious at the new person who just walked in. All the while, Coriolanus' reaction couldn't be more different, his glare sharp and mean.

"I thought I made it clear, I don't want to ever be disturbed when I'm with my family. Unless it's an absolute emergency." Coriolanus states, his tone icy and unforgiving.

By the furrowing of his eyebrows and the cold stare in his eyes, you can already anticipate the flurry of murderous thoughts filling his head before you cut in. After all, the interrupting intern, a 17 year old boy by the name of Elijah, is only trying his best. And you find him oddly endearing and sweet, particularly with how badly he tries to impress your husband.

"It's fine, Elijah. Please ignore my husband's rude comment. I'll be right out."

Setting your daughter down, Coriolanus leans forward and growls into your ear, watching the young boy scatter away quickly.

"You're too nice to him, darling. Don't you think we should dispose of him and get a new intern...."

You slap his shoulder.

"What do I always tell you? No need to create unnecessary messes. Besides, he's really good with Belle and easy to control."

He smirks at that, irises filled pink.

"You're probably right. Can't have another bloody mess on your hands to clean up."

"Or vice versa."

He leans in close, cold lips touching your forehead.

"Nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

And he truly means it.

a/n: andddd that's another major Corio fic down! thank you to everyone who showed me love on my last Corio oneshot ("melting snow") and for those who answered my poll - dark soft! and possessive Corio won out but girldad!Corio also got a TON of love so I included it a bit here and will probably write a whole standalone fic with girldad!Corio as the concept. thank you again to everyone for remaining patient, I had writer's block for a bit and I've just had the most awful few weeks ever (mental health wise and life wise) so it was difficult to find moments to write.

as always, please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed. the interactions is what motivates me to write! I hope you liked it hehe x

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coirolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #thg x reader #the hunger games #1k #2k #3k #4k

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luvs4matt · 5 months ago

Text

—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ꨄ 𝐌.𝐒

“do you ever think of what things would be like if we were together? like, together together. can’t you see yourself by my side?”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - dom!matt x bsf!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which, you and matt know you shouldn’t cross boundaries because of your friend group, but both of you just can’t seem to resist anymore.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, bigdick!matt, swearing, p in v, oral (f receiving), missionary, breeding, rough sex, soft sex, daddy kink, best friends to lovers trope, fluff, aftercare, attitude, couch sex, kissing, cow girl, doggy style, fingering, groping, clitoral stimulation, begging, mentions of masturbation, tit sucking, hair pulling, cum eating?, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, teasing, praise, degradation?, squirting, dacryphilia, staring, edging, orgasm control, slapping, love confession, nicknames (good girl, bad girl, slut, doll, princess, sweetheart, matty, baby, brat, angel, sweet girl, needy whore), cocky!matt, spanking, dick claiming, roughdom!matt, softdom!matt, bratty!reader, needy!reader, masturbation

divider by @bunnysrph

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

when matt offered to give you a ride home and walk you to your door for safety, you never thought it would end up this way… “we should stop” matt groans between kisses “yeah” your lips continue to collide with each other as your back hits the wall. his large hands holding each side of your face, your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to your mouth.

it was wrong, you both know it’s wrong, it shouldn’t be happening, but neither of you could get enough of each other. this could ruin your friend group with matts brothers and nate, but you would do anything for him to be with you.

“we’ll stop.. right now..” you whisper “right now..” matt repeats your words as a reminder, but he couldn’t pull away. he wanted you for so long and now he has you, but he can’t risk losing his best friends “okay.. i’m pulling away.. right now..” instead of pulling away from you completely, he pulls away from your lips, trailing his all around your neck.

bruises decorated your skin. matt felt like he had no control over his body, his hands leave your neck, running down to your waist, and back up your stomach, groping your tits.

you moan, drunk on the feeling of his lips all over you, him drunk on having his lips all over you. “jump” you wrap your legs around his waist as he resumes the kisses you both shared, carrying you to the couch, not having patience to make it to your room.

he lays you down, holding himself above you. the kisses only become heavier and more intense “only a few more minutes” he mutters.

matt swallows all of your whimpers, enjoying your noises way more than he should. he slides his hand down your shorts, into your panties “you’re so wet” he rubs your throbbing clit, causing you to clench around nothing.

your moans of his name set something off in him, a part of him he has never seen before “please matt.. matt, i- i’ll do anything- fuck!” he shoves 3 of his fingers in your tight hole, giving no time to get used to the feeling.

your panties and shorts have already been taken off, thrown somewhere in the room. the loud squelching echoes through the whole house, your stomach churning. you have been so pent up with sexual frustration because of matt that your orgasm already starts to build.

you masturbate thinking about matt often, always cumming quick. everything about him turns you on, his eyes, his mouth, his smile, his waist, his style, his cologne, his facial hair, his hands, everything. his hands and facial hair turns you on the most, and his hair just constantly looks so perfect to pull on.

he pulls your tank top down, allowing your tits to spill out from the fabric. he pulls away from the kiss, watching your face and body language “you wanna cum?” you moan a response “y-yes, please matt!”

you’re taken aback when he pulls his fingers out of you “no! no! no”

“i want you to cum on my mouth sweetheart, alright?” he sucks on each of your nipples, traveling down to your drenched cunt. you grip on his hair while he sucks your clit, lapping up all of your juices “you taste so fucking good” matts hands hold down your hips, keeping you still.

“oh! oh! i’m g’na cum!” he continues working his mouth on you, sucking on your clit harder. everything happened so fast, one second you were hanging out with nick, chris, matt, and nate, now you’re cumming all over your bestfriends face.

you tremble as matt rides out your high a little too fast “too!- mmfh” matt wasn’t riding out your high, he was bringing you to a new one “too- much!” you stutter “m’sorry, you just taste so- fuck, you’re the best thing i’ve ever tasted” his tongue fucks you so good it hurts, a good hurt.

your thighs crush his head, only giving him more of a excuse to get a longer taste of your sweet arousal. by the way your pulling his hair, you can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or bring him closer. you grind your hips instinctively, his lips engulfing your clit once again.

“shit! shit!” you look down to the brown mop of hair, his blue eyes staring up at you. his eyes locking with yours sends you over the edge, cumming all over his mouth.

he kisses back up your body, already wanting to get another taste of you. you impatiently unbuttoned his jeans, getting a taste of yourself as his lips re-collide with yours.

he throws his clothing to the side. he glides his tip through your folds, brushing against your clit. he couldn’t get enough of your noises, they just sounded so pretty “please fuck me matty” he wastes no time thrusting into you. you wince at the stretch, he was bigger than you thought, maybe too big.

“ow fuck!” matts face fills with worry, scared he’s hurt you “are you okay? did i hurt you, m’so sorry, i-“ you giggle at him, your giggles warming his heart “i’m fine, you’re just really big” matt smiles at you, not being able to look away from your face “yeah?”

you slap his shoulder “shut up” your giggles continue until you get cutoff by a moan, matt moving in and out of you “shit!” matt tilts his head, staring into your eyes “feel good sweetheart?” he hits spots you didn’t even knew existed “yes!” his cock slides into your gummy walls so easily, due to your arousal.

“you’re so fucking tight” you chase his lips, desperate to have his back on yours “you’re so beautiful” he praises, he removes his lips from you, kissing your cheek, to your neck, to the shell of your ear.

“i could live inside of this pussy, fuck..” he continues to whisper praises in your ear.

“so pretty”

“you’re doing so good”

“takin’ me so well sweetheart”

“such a good girl f’me”

“m- matt” he lifts his head from your neck, kissing your nose “i- i wanna cum” matt nods “i know sweetheart, you can cum” you shake your head, matt becoming confused “i- i wanna c- cum riding you” he smiles softly “cum like this, then you can ride me, okay?”

“o- okay” you stop trying to hold it back, letting yourself build your orgasm. your moans fill the room, becoming shorter and more high pitched “oh my god! i’m cumming matt! i’m cumming” matt groans at the feeling of your walls clamping down on him, whimpering at you moaning his name while reaching your climax.

he rides out your high, watching the white ring form around his base “c- can i ride you now?” you stare into his eyes, your brown doe ones making it hard to say no “you can ride me now sweetheart” he flips you both over, without pulling out.

you overstimulate yourself by not giving yourself time after your orgasm to recover before bouncing on his cock.

“fucking christ… good girl, good job princess” you whine, his words going straight to your core “so big..” the stimulation was too much, but you couldn’t seem to get enough, him being a drug of choice.

“just my slut, right?” your noises were music to his ears, he loved them, he never wanted to forget them “just your slut..! only your slut..!” his dick fits inside of you like a glove, your cervix hugs him tightly, yet so easily moving in and out. “such a pretty pussy”

no matter how tired your legs got, you never lost your pace. matt groans as he feels his own orgasm getting closer “please! cum inside me!” matts shocked at your demand “but we- we’re not using a condom” you moan, desperate for his seed to fill you “i don’t care! i need your cum!”

he finally gave you what you wanted, filling you to the brim with his seed. you never slowed down, but matt wasn’t complaining. the sight of you and his cum mixed together, being used as a lubricant, was the highlight of matts day (besides fucking you)

yes, he was overstimulated, but, he also was addicted to your feeling, you also being his drug of choice “hot damn..” he whispers, throwing his head back.

you sucked him in through your tight hole, and hypnotized him, your pussy putting some kind of spell on him. “this your dick princess?” you bounce faster, tightening your grip around his neck “this my dick..! my dick..!” he continues to curse under his breath, watching you chase your forth orgasm.

“i- m’gonna cum! please let me cum!” your thighs slap his with every bounce, creating the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain “go ahead baby, cum for me” you let out a loud cry “thank you for letting me cum daddy!” you didn’t notice that you let it slip until matt fed into it “your welcome princess, daddy will always let you cum”

you quiver and still your movements, letting out loud moans, ecstasy rushing through your veins as you release all over him.

you circle your hips, still feening for more of him “another?” you suggest, matt smirks “face down.. ass up” you giggle, doing exactly what you were told. matt runs his tip through your folds, slipping into your hole. he grips your hair, pulling your face out of the cushions.

“you’re so beautiful y/n.. you’re even more beautiful when you cum..” he leans down to whisper in your ear “so, i wonder how much more beautiful you get when you squirt..” you whimper, his hips starting to ram into you.

you grip the cushion for life, looking for something to squeeze. your arch becomes deeper when matt holds his hands down on your lower back. “do you ever touch yourself doll?” you nod, not even thinking of the question “who do you think of?” you mutter out a “you!” while you’re practically brain dead.

the only thing you could think of was matt, and the pleasure that quickly swells in your tummy “y- your cock!” his tip hits so deep inside of you that you instinctively surge forward “uh uh, get back here” he pulls you back onto his cock, going harder and deeper than before “don’t ever try to fucking run from me, you wanted it, you take it”

you cry as the pleasure you crave becomes too much, but you still couldn’t stop “m- m’sorry daddy!”

“good girl”

……

this happened a few more times over the last couple weeks before you stopped trying to resist eachother. you finally accepted that you fuck eachother and enjoy it as friends.

you and matt both accepted that the person they love only wants sex, neither of you knew that the feeling for eachother was mutual.

since that night, you have discovered eachothers kinks and how to satisfy the other. nick, chris, nor nate know yet, and they will never know. it didn’t seem like they were suspicious, you went about interactions the same, you acted the same, everything was the same.

besides the longing stares…

‘you sit on one side of the couch, matt across from you, eyes on the tv screen. your eyes on matt, you stare at his jawline, his mouth, his hands, his dick… you can’t help but to want to walk over and jump his bones, but you resist. you are so busy staring at matt that you don’t even realize him glancing over at you.’

‘eventually he turns his head to look at you, causing you to turn your head towards the tv. he looks at your whole body, he so badly wants to fuck you until you believe that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.’

the teasing touches…

‘you sit in denny’s with the boys, eating your food and laughing when you feel matts hand placed on your thigh. if he couldn’t fuck you, he will touch you. he travels his hand to your inner thigh, sliding your shorts over to the side. he rubs circles on your clothed clit, he knows how bad you want to whimper his name, begging for more, but you can’t.’

‘you walk past matt, grazing your hand over his genitalia through his jeans, suppressing a groan from his throat. you do the same thing every time you walk past him that day. eventually matt gets frustrated and it’s obvious “you okay bro?” chris asks “yeah, i’m fine, stomach just hurts.” you definitely got it.’

everything you did to tease eachother

flashing him your thong straps

grazing your lower back

purposely bending over

wearing your favorite pair of sweats

sticking things in your mouth

using his hands more

giving attitude

giving attitude was your specialty, and it’s also what got you into this position.

…..

earlier that day

you and matt walk through the isles of kroger, looking for specific items. specific items that are hard to find. “oregano.. where’s the oregano in this place” you roll your eyes, aggravated by him repeating things, and asking questions.

“i don’t know matt! god damn, i don’t fucking work here! look at the signs or some shit!” he snaps his head over at you “excuse me?” you shrug while responding “the fuck do you want me to do?!” you try to walk away, but matt turns you around to be pressed chest to chest.

“you better watch your mouth” you keep eye contact, attempting to intimidate him “make me” key word, attempt “c’mon, we’re leaving” he clicks his tongue against his cheek as you try to protest “we’re leaving, end of story.”

…..

“close sweetheart?” you pant heavily, attempting to speak after being edged 10+ times by matts cock, tongue, and fingers “i- y- mmph” he slaps your strawberry colored ass, red from previous spankings “answer me, i’m the one who can let you cum, or tell you no. do you not want to cum today?”

your breathe hitches as he continues to drive into your abused hole, using you like a fuck toy. you gain the confidence and ability to talk, desperate to cum.

“m’gonna cum!” you moan as matt pounds into you from behind “no.” instead of obeying, you fire back at him “yes!” matt stops moving completely, pulling your head back by your hair “what did you just say to me?” his words were harsh, his eyes burning in dominance.

“i said, i’m gonna cum!” your pettiness got the best of you “no you’re not.” you furrowed your eyebrows at him, out of frustration “yes i am!” matt pulls on your hair harder, keeping eye contact “no.”

“yes!” he slaps you hard, not letting you disobey him “i said no.” you didn’t care how much he slaps you, you will get your orgasm now. “and i said yes!” you start to fuck yourself onto him, due to his lack of movement “don’t you fucking dare. only good girls get to cum.” he quickly stops your hips, placing one of his arms on your lower back.

“i am a good girl!” you attempt to chase your orgasm again, failing miserably “no. you’re a brat. that’s what you are.” you whine as matt repeatedly slaps your ass “n- no i’m not! i’m a good, good girl!” matt scoffs, realizing what this is about “what? you don’t like being told that you’re a bad girl instead of a good girl?”

you angrily shake your head, your face covered in a pout “well too fucking bad.” he starts to pound back into you. he thrusts back into you, but as soon as your about to fall over the edge, he pulls out.

“no! no! no! what the fuck matt! you haven’t let me cum all week!” matt smirks at you “well maybe if you were a good girl all week, you’d be cumming all over my cock” you scoff as he pulls up his boxers, walking out of your bedroom.

maybe you should just get rid of the attitude? i mean, thats the reason that you haven’t came. the only reason your attitude has been worse is because he hasn’t let you cum, so why prolong the punishment?

you put on red lace lingerie, throwing a robe over it. you walk out of the bedroom to see matt on the couch, waiting for you. you walk over to him, throwing your robe, while straddling his waist. “m’sorry daddy, m’sorry for being a bad girl, i’ll be a good girl, i promise.”

“you learned your lesson?” you nod your head “yes sir” matt smirks at your vulnerability “and what did you learn angel?” he places kisses down your throat “to be a good girl and to do what i’m told” he smiles against your neck.

“awe, good girl, you want daddy to make you cum now sweetheart?” you nod with pleading eyes “please daddy..” he moves his lips from your neck to your lips, placing a sweet kiss “i’ll make you cum angel.. and if this is a part of your apology, then i definitely accept” he motions towards your lingerie, tracing his finger tips around your body.

next thing you know, every piece of red lace lies on the ground, while matt is thrusting up into you, your nipple in his mouth “fuck! m’gonna cum daddy!” you start to meet him in the middle, your orgasm coming extremely fast “please! i’ve been a good girl daddy! please let me cum!” matt swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud before giving you permission “cum on your cock sweet girl, you have daddy’s permission”

“oh! oh thank you! thank you so much!” you moan “i’m cumming daddy!” you scream as your orgasm hits you like a truck, you came so hard to the point tears were falling down your face. “please don’t stop!” matt continues to buck into you at a ruthless pace “such a pretty face being all ruined” referring to the makeup smears on your face.

“more!” you beg “ha, you’re a needy whore for this dick, aren’t you?” you bring your finger down to circle your clit, desperately searching for another orgasm “yes!”

“yeah? y’like playin’ with yourself baby?” you shake your head “no? you don’t like playing with yourself? then why you doin’ it?” you whimper and whine at the overwhelming pleasure “i- i want y- your f- fingers.. but you- you weren’t d- doing it so i- i did!”

“like this?” you grind your hips down when he replaces your finger with his “yes! yes, thank you!” your hips have a mind of their own, pushing matt deeper in you by sinking lower onto him. “do i really make you feel that good sweetheart? gonna cum for the second time in 2 minutes?” you whine, feeling a semi familiar feeling in your gut.

he could tell what was about to happen, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened either. the intense feeling grows and grows, matts finger speeding up on your clit “g- gon- mmph fuck!” matt waits impatiently for the action to come “c’mon baby, i know you can do it, squirt all over your cock..”

matts orgasm comes right after yours, you let out one last scream as juices fly out of your cunt, soaking matts pelvis and dick that is now releasing his ejaculation all over your tits “fuckkk” he groans.

you plop down beside him, working on catching your breath. matt gets up, grabbing 2 separate wet cloths, bringing them to the sofa, where you lie. “are you okay?” matts voice once stern, now soft. “hell yes” matt chuckles as he uses one of the cloths to wipe his seed off of your tits.

“was i too rough with you?” he uses the same cloth to clean himself before using the second cloth to wipe down your sensitivity “no, no, i loved it” you wince at the roughness of the cloth “m’sorry sweetheart, i’m almost done.. all done”

“…so you loved it hm? which part was the best?” you giggle, play hitting him “oh shut up with your big ass ego” matt picks you up, walking you towards the bathroom “lets go take a shower, but while we’re still at it, you know every time you squirt, you get even prettier”

“matthew!”

…..

“matt.. i’m close” you whimper, this time around was soft, slower sex rather than rough and fast. “it’s okay.. cum” you both reach your peak at the same time, flopping down beside each other.

you sit in a comfortable silence until it’s broken by matt speaking “y/n?” you turn over to look at him “hm?” matt hesitates before he continues speaking “do you ever think of what things would be like if we were together? like, together together. can’t you see yourself by my side?”

your heart feels like it’s stopping out of shock “mhm, yeah, i- um, i do, but i never thought you would think of it so i never mentioned it… i mean, if that was the case then the less i know the better you know?”

“yeah, i know what you mean… um, would you ever consider.. being with me?” your insides warm, hoping this conversation would lead to something more intimate between the two of you “…there’s nothing to consider matt.. i would do it in a heartbeat..” you bite your lip, watching how he looks at your eyes to your lips.

he softly grabs your cheek before leaning in, placing a soft, loving kiss to your pink lips “i love you y/n” he climbs back on top of you, kissing all over your face “i love you matt”

that’s the night that made both of your lives complete for the next forever years…

a/n - 1000 of you?!?! wtf?!? i am so extremely grateful for everyone of you who supports me and my work and has gave me enough confidence to continue writing, i love you all 🩷🩷

(extended version of this blurb)

last section of fic is slightly inspired by @sturnioz fic ‘this is (not) easy’

beginning of forth section is slightly inspired by @bernardsbendystraws fic ‘payback’

tag list !! - @ilovemenwithlonghairr @monroesturnns @sturniolo04 @gdsvhtwa @stvr1ightt13 @chrisspyycremm @colorthecosmos444 @va1ent1naa @sturnfannn @lanaswifeyy @sturnzsblog @sturncakez @blahbel668 @pussydestroyer100 @sturnioloblogs @lolasturniolo @wompwomp-1 @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @mattswhore-44 @flosslikeabosss @conspiracy-ash @jaysturniolo @user9383738392 @mattswhore-44 @sturnscrossover @christophersgf @downbad4reid @sturnsxbitvh @chaossturns @st7rnioioss @pixie-sticks-are-good @slutforsturniolos @ifwdominicfike @chr1sgirl4life @lovekaiya

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erwinsvow · 6 months ago

Note

we need more moment where shy!reader was studying and practicing new things to show rafe!! ik that girl is so kinky and it’s always the shy girls <33

YESS omg i srsly love that drabble when i reread it im like she was cookin.. i feel like shes the type to try to prep herself with a dildo bc she can never take all of rafe but imagine he found it n was like ?!!?

really—your boyfriend was too big. it was excessive, and though you could never find the words to tell him to stop or slow down—mostly because you didn't want him to—he always did anyways.

no matter how much you insisted that you could take all of him, rafe didn't like to listen. so you were stuck in a conundrum, and your choices were either lying to your boyfriend that it didn't hurt or accepting the fact that he'll never be as rough with you as you want.

you were willing to sit down and accept a lot of things without a fight—but this was not one of them.

one discreetly wrapped delivery later, you had yourself your very own rafe-sized dildo—a pretty pink color and of such a size that it had your insides churning with anticipation. about half an hour later with the use of some lube and lots of work, you were successfully able to fit about three-fourths. it wasn't perfect, yet, but it was a work in progress.

you didn't want to overdo it and end up insanely sore either, and you were beginning to realize even half was enough to have you cumming over and over again. so much so that you almost forgot about the date you had planned with rafe for that night—scrambling to get up and get ready.

that night, after a nice date and way too much ice cream, you realized you were too fucked out from your afternoon activity to go for another round for rafe. it was no big deal—except it happened the next day. then the day after that. and the one after that.

you had mastered the rafe-sized dildo, and you could take the entire thing after week of practice. but it also meant that it had been a full week without your boyfriend fucking you—something that hadn't happened since you had lost your virginity to him.

a little too clueless around rafe like always, you hadn't realized anything was wrong. rafe was on edge—pent up and unable to keep taking out his frustration on the golf course after almost breaking one of his clubs—but you didn't really notice.

you were waiting for tonight, after another date to show him your new-found skills, but of course, he didn't know that.

getting ready in your bathroom, blasting music and doing your makeup, you don't even hear the door open to your bedroom. rafe came to get you early, knowing you would need more time but way too antsy to wait alone in his car.

he sits on your bed, listening to the muffled music from behind the closed door. he's not impatient with you and hardly ever like this, but the current situation had left him more desperate to see you than usual.

leaning against your headboard, he feels something under your pillow. lifting it to move whatever it was—knowing you, the book you had been reading last night—his jaw clenches when he sees it. a dildo. not just any dildo—a huge dildo. under your pillow like you'd just been using it or something.

the pillow stays in his hand but he has an overwhelming urge to chuck it across the room. was this the reason the two of you hadn't had sex in a week? were you finding pleasure from some stupid toy instead of him?

"rafe?" you ask, stepping out of the bathroom and staring at the scene in front of you with big eyes. you're distractingly pretty everyday but even more so today with a short skirt and done-up face for the date he's not sure if he'll be taking you on.

your face burns with humiliation—stupidly realizing you hadn't put the damn thing away after last night. rafe is looking at you and then looking back at your bed, his fist tight around your pillow.

"um, i-"

"do you wanna explain? i'll give you five fuckin' seconds to explain-"

"no, it's not what it looks like-"

"really, kid? what it looks like is you're fuckin' this stupid thing instead of me. y'know, i'll just fuck off and you can have fun-"

rafe stands, not really angry but still sounding like he is. it's more pent-up frustration bubbling up, but you rush over to him anyways, looking so panicked he feels bad the second he said anything. he can't stay mad at you for longer than a minute.

"it's not what it looks like, i swear-"

"what is it then, huh?"

"i was just practicing! i was just trying to get better for you. see, it's yours." you motion to the toy still on the bed.

"huh?" rafe asks, looking between you and the bed.

"it's you. see. it's like... your size. um-" you get flustered again, shutting up in the fear that you've just said something to rafe that you should have kept to yourself. "i'm.. sorry?"

"no you're not."

"no, but i feel bad. are your feelings hurt? i'm sorry."

when rafe glances back at you, tearing his gaze away from the bright pink that's beginning to hurt his eyes, he realizes how sad you look, thinking you've done something to upset him.

"no, m'fine. just.. tell me next time. it was a jump scare."

"okay.." you stay still infront of him, awkwardly playing with your hands waiting for him to say something. you're a little concerned rafe's still upset, but he doesn't seem to look it, rather looking at you expectedly.

"what?" you question immediately, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"what? get on the bed. you've had enough practice. time for the real thing."

#oop #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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faebled-stories · 1 month ago

Text

The Game of Dangerous Desires

Itzy's Shin Yuna and Hwang Yeji x Male reader

Part 2 of A Dragons Deal with the Princess

Previously

Yeji swallowed hard, her mouth dry, heart pounding as she stood there, torn between protecting her relationship and the fear gnawing at her insides. The pill bottle seemed to mock her, a constant reminder of the impossible choice that weighed on her heart.

And then, in the silence of the room, Yeji made her choice. Without another word, she stepped forward and reached for the bottle sealing her fate.

-----

The princess had a smug smile on her face as Yeji angrily took the bottle from her hand. Popping a pill into her mouth, she grabbed a nearby water bottle to wash it down, the bitterness matching the taste of her regret.

“So what’s your plan? Seduce him? He would never cheat on me,” Yeji spat, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

“Oh, unnie.” Yuna's tone dripped with amusement, her confidence unnerving. “Do you really think I haven’t thought it through? I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but just be ready. A week from now.” Yuna winked, adding, “Keep your phone close, I’ll send the details soon.”

“What’s stopping me from telling him everything?” Yeji countered, desperation lacing her words. “If he knows what you’re planning, he’ll avoid you.”

Yuna pulled out her phone, her eyes gleaming wickedly as she hit play on a voice recording. Yeji’s breath caught in her throat as the unmistakable sounds of her own moans filled the air.

"Nnngh... Y/N... It feels strange... I'm stuffed so full of you..."

"A-Ah! There! Please Y/N, right there—Ffuuuck!"

"Yeji, you take my cock so well, baby. Your pussy feels incredible. You like this, don’t you?"

"Yes, yes, I love it! It's so good, don’t stop!"

Yeji’s heart sank. The vivid memory of last night’s passion replayed through the speakers. She could hear every thump, every breathy gasp as if reliving it all over again.

“You... you were here the whole time?” Yeji stammered, horrified.

“I heard it all, every moan… every word...every... single... thrust,” Yuna said slowly, stepping closer with a predatory gleam in her eyes.

Yeji felt trapped, crushed under the weight of her own helplessness as Yuna finally gestured for her to leave. Feeling sick, Yeji stumbled out of the room, her heart twisting painfully. Would Y/N really fall for Yuna? Could he be seduced so easily? Her thoughts raced as she returned to her room, her gaze falling on Y/N’s sleeping form, clutching the pillow where she had lain just hours before.

Her stomach churned at the thought of him in Yuna’s hands, the image of them together too much to bear. What if Yuna was right? What if he did choose her, lured by her confidence and experience? What if she wasn’t enough?

Later, the girls gathered around the dining table, chatting casually as they ate breakfast. Yeji sat in silence, her mind a whirlwind, barely able to stomach the food in front of her. Yuna, sitting beside her, wore a smug grin, the tension thick in the air between the eldest and the youngest..

“Yeji unnie, what did you do yesterday? You never mentioned it,” Chaeryeong asked innocently, mid-slurp of her ramen.

Yuna's eyes sparkled as she leaned in. “Yeah, unnie, what did you get up to?” Her voice was laced with teasing, her power in the situation almost tangible.

Before Yeji could respond, the door to her room opened, and Y/N stepped out, looking fresh from a shower. To the others, it seemed like a regular morning after a sleepover, but the truth hung heavy between Yeji and Yuna.

“Oh, Y/N, you're here! Want to join us?” Lia said cheerfully, ever kind to him because Yeji constantly gushed about happy he makes her.

Y/N smiled politely and took a seat in the empty spot at the table. To his left was Ryujin, and to his right, Chaeryeong. Across from him sat Yeji, with Lia and Yuna sandwiching her. As the conversation swirled around him, Y/N quietly ate his cereal, but something soon caught his attention. He felt something soft brushing against his leg—a light caress. He smirked to himself, recalling the passionate night he’d had with Yeji.

Is she really still in the mood?

The touch on his leg grew more insistent, sliding higher. He glanced at Yeji, a knowing smile on his lips, assuming she was teasing him. She was good at keeping a straight face—it was almost like she wasn’t doing anything at all. The sensation pressed harder against his crotch, and his heart skipped a beat, his mind flashing back to their intimate moments.

Y/N’s eyes darted downward but something felt… off. Yeji hadn’t painted her toenails that morning, had she? His pulse quickened when he realized the angle of the foot wasn’t right—it wasn’t coming directly from Yeji, but from beside her. His gaze snapped to Yuna, and in that moment, she locked eyes with him. A sly smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and she winked.

Panic surged through him. He choked on his cereal, coughing and swatting the foot away from him under the table. Yeji immediately looked at him with concern, clueless as to what had just happened, while Yuna leaned back casually, enjoying the chaos she had caused.

Y/N quickly finished his meal, wiping his mouth and muttering a quick thank you to the girls before grabbing Yeji’s hand. “Can you come with me for a second?” he asked, trying to mask his unease with a forced smile. The girls giggled, teasing Yeji about how much Y/N needed her by his side.

But once they were alone in Yeji’s room, the playful atmosphere vanished. “Uh, I don’t know how to say this, but… I think Yuna was flirting with me just now. Like, under the table,” he said, his voice low, trying to make sense of the situation.

Yeji’s stomach dropped. Yuna had promised one week. What is she doing? Her phone buzzed in her hand. Trembling, she opened the message.

Yeji stared at the text from Yuna, her stomach churning. The first of many demands, and Y/N was already sensing something. Panic surged through her, her mind spinning as she read

Rule 1: Y/N will not know about anything. You have to play the dumb girlfriend card.

She swallowed hard, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. "Yuna... flirting with you?" she repeated, her voice trembling slightly before she forced herself to laugh, a shaky, hollow sound. "Babe, you’re overthinking it. Yuna would never do that! She’s like a little sister to me, and she adores you—but, like, in a friendly way."

Y/N’s brow furrowed, and the skepticism on his face made Yeji’s chest tighten even more. His eyes searched hers, confused, questioning. He didn’t believe her. She could feel it. And why would he? She was lying to him. The man she loved more than anything, the one she had given everything to last night, and now... now she had to deceive him.

"But her foot—" Y/N began, his voice trailing off.

Yeji’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t let him finish that thought. If he doubted her now, everything would fall apart. "It was probably an accident," she cut in quickly, forcing a smile that felt foreign on her lips. She reached out, grasping his arm, squeezing it as if trying to ground herself. "You know how playful she is. She was probably just stretching or moving around, and it felt weird, that’s all."

Her words sounded hollow to her own ears, but she pushed on, hoping he wouldn’t see through her act. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart with every lie she spoke. This was Y/N—the man who trusted her, the man who held her after making love to her for the first time. And here she was, lying to his face.

Y/N hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly, his confusion deepening. Yeji’s chest constricted painfully. She couldn’t let him keep thinking about it. She had to make him believe.

"Come on," she coaxed, her voice softening as she leaned into him, pressing her forehead against his, trying to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. "You’re just tired from last night, right? I wore you out." She forced a giggle, the sound unnatural, like it didn’t belong to her at all. Her insides were twisting into knots, the guilt nearly choking her, but she had to keep going.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still distant, replaying the events in his mind. Yeji’s heart raced. She hated this. She hated lying to him. It felt like poison in her veins, the weight of Yuna’s control over her crushing her spirit.

"Maybe I’m just being paranoid..." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, though doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Yeji clung to that small sliver of doubt and seized it. "Exactly!" she chimed, trying to infuse her voice with lightness even though her insides felt like they were crumbling. She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck as she fought to keep her hands from trembling. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. I know you. You’d never let something like that happen, and Yuna isn’t that kind of person."

She kissed him then, desperate to erase the lingering suspicion. It was a soft, lingering kiss, but it tasted like betrayal to her. Every second of it filled her with more guilt. "Let’s just forget about it, okay? I trust you, and you trust me, right?" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, but she prayed he wouldn’t notice.

Y/N paused for a moment longer, the weight of her words settling in. He looked into her eyes, searching for truth. Yeji’s heart pounded, her breath caught in her throat as she waited.

"Yeah…" he finally said, sighing deeply. "I trust you."

Yeji smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Relief washed over her, but it was tinged with a sickening feeling that lodged in her chest like a stone. She had done it—she had successfully gaslit him, just as Yuna had demanded. But as Y/N wrapped his arms around her and held her close, all she could think about was how wrong it felt. How every lie had driven a wedge between them, one she couldn’t undo.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her words were meant for him, but they felt more like an apology, a plea for forgiveness she didn’t deserve.

"I love you," Y/N murmured back, his voice warm, comforting, everything she longed for. He held her tighter, but all Yeji could feel was the guilt gnawing at her, eating away at the foundation of their love.

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice shaking. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she rested her head on his chest, her heart breaking under the weight of her betrayal. Yuna’s game had only just begun, and Yeji was already drowning in it.

-----

Yuna was one step closer to what she had been craving for. Her desires had become an obsession, and she knew exactly how to get what she wanted. Yuna had texted Yeji to make sure Y/N came over more often. Yeji, feeling trapped, reluctantly agreed, mentioning it to Y/N as, of course he agreed, more time with his girlfriend is always better.

At the same time, Yuna's twisted game began to evolve. The ruleset had been finished. She texted Yeji the updates:

Rule 2: "Tell Y/N not to cum until the day. No sex, no masturbation. I need him pent up."

Rule 3: "When D-Day comes, seduce him at his place. Make him agree to wear a blindfold and get tied to the bed. I don't care how you do it"

Rule 4: "Once he's bound, let me in. You can’t interfere, no matter what happens."

Rule 5: "Sit in the corner and watch. Don’t make a sound. You need to suffer like I did, you need to feel what I felt that night when I heard you two.

As the countdown to the dreaded day had started every moment seemed to stretch out painfully for Yeji. The tension in the air was almost tangible as Yuna's subtle advances grew bolder, and Y/N's once-solid relationship with Yeji was slowly being strained. It all began innocently, but by the end of the week, nothing would be the same.

On Day One, everything seemed relatively normal, but Y/N noticed a slight shift in the dynamic. After Yeji’s dance practice, Yuna appeared at the studio, casually walking in like she had every right to be there. At first, it felt natural—after all, Yuna and Yeji were close, and Y/N had hung out with both of them countless times.

But something felt different that day. Yuna lingered by the mirrors longer than usual, her eyes always seeming to find Y/N when she thought he wasn’t looking. After practice, Y/N was about to leave when Yuna suddenly offered him a hug. He hesitated for a moment—this wasn’t something they did often—but figured it was harmless. When Yuna’s arms wrapped around him, it felt just a little too tight, a little too long. He could feel her breath against his neck, and for a moment, he thought he felt her hand brush lower down his back than it should have.

He pulled away, awkwardly laughing it off. “You’re extra friendly today,” he said, trying to sound casual. Yuna just smiled, a mysterious glint in her eyes, as Yeji approached with her gym bag.

Yeji noticed the interaction but said nothing, offering Y/N a kiss goodbye before he left. That night, as Y/N lay in bed, he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that Yuna’s hug hadn’t been as innocent as it seemed. He pushed the thought aside, though, convinced he was reading too much into things.

-----

Day Two started much the same, with Y/N sitting in the corner of the practice room, sipping his water while the girls rehearsed. But again something was different this time. Yuna made more frequent eye contact with him during practice, catching his attention every time she moved. When a break was called, Yuna made her way straight toward him.

“Y/N, what do you think of the choreography? Am I hitting all the beats?” Yuna asked sweetly, standing close enough that her presence felt overbearing.

Y/N shuffled uncomfortably. “Yeah, it looks great. You’re really talented.”

Yuna smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks. I’ve been working hard on it. Maybe I’ll show you the routine up close sometime.”

Later as practice ended, Y/N was getting ready to leave when Yuna popped up beside him, her hand resting on his arm. “Leaving so soon? Why don’t you hang out with us a bit?” she asked, her fingers lingering on his skin. Y/N tensed up, feeling the unease rise within him.

“Nah, I’ve got stuff to do,” he replied, gently pulling away.

“Come on, don’t be boring,” Yuna teased, her voice lower. She stepped closer, her arm brushing against his. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, glancing around for Yeji, who was deep in conversation with the choreographer. He quickly came up with an excuse and left with a hurry.

That night, Y/N mentioned the encounter to Yeji. “Yuna’s been acting... different lately,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “It’s like she’s always around, and I don’t know—it’s weird.”

Yeji chuckled, waving it off. “Yuna? She’s always been like that. She’s just friendly.” Her smile was reassuring, but Y/N couldn’t shake the discomfort settling in his chest.

-----

Day Three saw Yuna growing bolder. This time, she didn’t just accidently show up to Y/N and Yejis, alone time; she actively inserted herself into Y/N’s space. While Yeji practiced to herself during a break, Yuna stuck to Y/N like glue, sitting close to him on the benches and making playful comments about how hard the girls were working. She laughed easily, leaning into him every chance she got.

When Y/N tried to create some distance, she found subtle ways to close it. If he moved to the other end of the bench, Yuna would “casually” scoot over too, laughing about how cramped the space was. She even brushed her hand over his thigh at one point, and Y/N felt his entire body tense. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the way Yuna’s fingers lingered for just a beat too long.

When practice ended and it was time to leave, Yuna insisted on walking out with him. “I’ll walk you to your car,” she said, almost like it wasn’t a questionable act. Y/N didn’t know how to decline without being rude, so he agreed. As they reached his car, Yuna smiled, her eyes locked on his. “You’re fun to hang out with, Y/N,” she said, her tone soft but laced with something deeper. She stepped closer, leaning in for another hug. This time, Y/N stiffened, feeling her body press against his in a way that Yuna planned to make him feel every inch of her chest.

He mumbled a quick goodbye and got into his car, watching as Yuna waved, her eyes never leaving him.

That night, Y/N brought it up to Yeji again. “Seriously, I think Yuna’s acting weird. She’s... I don’t know. She’s touchy and not like a touchy friend.”

But once again, Yeji brushed it off, her expression unreadable. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Yuna’s always been like that.”

But Y/N wasn’t so sure anymore.

-----

On Day Four Yuna started texting Y/N throughout the day. It wasn’t unusual for them to message occasionally mainly for updates on Yeji but the frequency of her texts had increased dramatically. She sent a casual “How’s your day?” messages that quickly turned into flirty comments. “You looked really good today 😉,” one text read. Y/N stared at his phone, feeling his stomach drop.

He tried to ignore the texts, replying with short answers and hoping she’d get the hint, but Yuna was persistent. He showed up at the dorms again, and this time Yuna made no effort to hide her intentions. She sat close to Y/N, her body pressed against his as they watched a movie with Yeji. Every time Y/N shifted to create space, Yuna closed the gap, her thigh brushing against his.

Y/N could feel his pulse quickening, the discomfort growing with every passing second. He glanced at Yeji, hoping she’d say something, but she remained quiet, her eyes fixed on the screen.

When Y/N finally got up to leave, Yuna followed him to the door, smiling sweetly. “Leaving already? Stay a little longer,” she said, her voice dripping with false innocence. She leaned in, her hand grazing his arm as she whispered, “We could have fun.”

Y/N’s heart raced. He forced a chuckle, pulling away. “I really have to go,” he muttered, practically bolting out the door.

He couldn’t sleep. The tension between him and Yeji was growing, and Yuna’s actions were getting bolder by the day. Something was seriously wrong, but Y/N felt trapped, unsure of how to handle the situation.

-----

By Day Five, Y/N was on edge. The week had felt like a slow descent into madness, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. Yuna’s behavior had escalated—now she was constantly touching him, finding excuses to stand close, and making suggestive comments that left Y/N feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

He tried talking to Yeji again, hoping for some clarity, but she remained dismissive. “Yuna’s just being Yuna,” she said, her tone flat. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

But Y/N knew it wasn’t nothing. The strain in his relationship with Yeji was palpable, and every time he tried to address it, she deflected, leaving Y/N feeling more isolated than ever.

That afternoon Y/N was once again in the practice room, watching as ITZY rehearsed. His eyes wandered over to Yuna, and he noticed something different—she was wearing revealing clothing, far more daring than her usual practice attire. It was nothing like what she typically wore around the group. As she stood in front of the mirror, she caught sight of Y/N behind her, their eyes meeting through the reflection.

Without breaking eye contact, Yuna began to stretch. She bent over slowly letting get a good look of her plump cheeks then spreading her legs wide doing the splits as she dropped to the floor, her ass recoiling from the impact, all while keeping her gaze locked on Y/N. Her expression was unreadable, but the deliberate nature of her actions was clear. He followed her eyes as she started to survey his body, eventually locking onto his crotch. Y/N’s pulse quickened as he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension build in the room.

---

By Day Six, Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. The entire week had been a slow, torturous buildup to something he couldn’t quite put into words. That evening, after another tense interaction with Yuna, Y/N finally snapped. He confronted Yeji, his voice tight with frustration.

“I don’t know what’s going on with Yuna, but this has to stop,” he said, pacing the room. “I’ve tried to ignore it, I’ve tried to talk to you about it, but you keep brushing it off. how could you, my girlfriend be so okay with someone actively trying to steal me away from you.?”

Yeji sighed, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I’m not!” Y/N’s voice was louder than he intended, his emotions spilling over. “She’s been all over me, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. What’s going on, Yeji? Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Yeji’s eyes flickered with something—guilt? shame?—but she quickly masked it. “Look, I’ll talk to her, okay? Just... let it go for now.”

But Y/N couldn’t just let it go. The tension between him and Yeji felt like a ticking time bomb, and he had no idea how to defuse it.

-----

Finally, on Day Seven, the dreaded day arrived. The countdown had reached its end, and everything was set in motion. Y/N, exhausted from the emotional toll of the week, hadn’t seen Yuna all day, which gave him a false sense of security. He hoped maybe the worst had passed. When Yeji arrived at his home, the tension between them was palpable, hanging heavy in the air like a storm about to break.

She kissed him softly, a lingering touch that held more sadness than passion. Y/N could feel her hesitation, as if she were holding something back.

“I’m so sorry,” Yeji whispered, her voice trembling, filled with remorse and guilt. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes, her hands fidgeting nervously. “I’ve let things get out of control, and I don’t know how to fix it… but I just want us to be okay again.”

Y/N stared at her, his heart aching. He wanted to believe her, to trust that everything could go back to normal, but the unease from the past week was still gnawing at him. He let out a heavy sigh, nodding slowly.

“Yeah… me too,” he said softly, though doubt flickered in his chest.

Yeji offered a small smile, trying to mask the anxiety she felt. “Let’s try something new tonight, okay?”

Yeji had been unusually insistent throughout the evening, her demeanor shifting between light teasing and something more serious. When she suggested that they use the guest bedroom for the night, her tone carried a weight that caught Y/N off guard. Still, he agreed, hoping that maybe this was her way of trying to bridge the gap between them, to reignite something that had felt distant recently.

As they moved through the hallway toward the room, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the tension in Yeji's posture. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she did her best to play it off as casual curiosity.

"I saw something online the other day..." she said, her voice soft yet steady as she led him inside. “I thought we could try it out.”

Before Y/N could respond, Yeji produced a blindfold and a length of rope from behind her back, her hands trembling slightly as she handed them over. Her eyes flickered with both nervousness and excitement. Y/N raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the gesture, but something in her gaze held him in place, intrigued.

“You want me to tie you up?” Y/N asked with a chuckle, his suspicion softening as he saw it as a playful suggestion.

But Yeji shook her head, “No, I want to try it on you.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Okay... if that’s what you want, but you know, you don't have to do this for me to accept your apology”

“I know, this is just a little extra”

They started to undress, the atmosphere filled with an odd mix of tension and desire. Yeji, aching for his touch but bound by the rules Yuna had set, felt a pit in her stomach. She tied his limbs to the four corners of the bed, securing each one tightly. Y/N laughed lightly, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of restraint.

“I'm not used to this... But if you’re into it, I’ll give it a shot,” he said, trying to ease the growing tension between them.

Yeji tied the final knot, making sure no one, not even Y/N can get out as Yuna had instructed. She stepped back, looking at Y/N—vulnerable and exposed. Her heart twisted with guilt, but she reminded herself of the plan.playfully leaning to his ear she whispered, “I'll be back”, she then left the bedroom, her footsteps heavy as she walked toward the front door.

There, Yuna stood waiting, her face lit with an eager smile. Everything had fallen into place. The prize she had been craving was just a few steps away.

Yuna entered the house with a confident stride, walking straight into the guest room, her eyes fixed on Y/N, he was blindfolded and restrained on the bed as she wanted, unaware of what was about to unfold. Yuna crept into the room, her eyes greedily drinking in the sight of his vulnerable form. A wicked grin spread across her face as she approached the bed, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Yeji?" Y/N called out, mistaking Yuna's presence for his girlfriend's return. "You're back already? That was quick."

Yuna didn't respond, too focused on her prize. She knelt on the bed, her fingers lightly tracing along his skin, causing Y/N to shiver. Slowly, she lowered her head, taking half him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around him expertly, as her jaw was stretching. Y/N let out a soft groan.

"Oh wow... Yeji, that feels... so good," he murmured, tilting his head back against the pillow. "Where did you learn this?"

Yeji's heart clenched at his words. Of course, he doesn't recognize my touch, she thought bitterly. I've never given him a proper blowjob, and now Yuna is stealing that experience from me. Yuna however, smirked, knowing Y/N was already hooked on the sensation of her mouth on him.

Y/N, sensitive from the week of build-up, felt himself nearing the edge from the veteran moves that his "girlfriend" was doing. "I'm close," he muttered, unaware of the real situation.

Yuna paused, smirking as she denied him release, his limbs tugging at the ropes. She wasn't going to let him waste all that build-up just anywhere. No, she wanted every last drop to stuff her to the brim.

Straddling him, she positioned herself over his hardness, locking eyes with Yeji, who sat paralyzed in the corner. Slowly, Yuna lowered herself onto him, inch by inch, letting out an unexpected squeal as he filled her completely.

The sheer size of him made her body wince, even though she was experienced. Y/N was a different beast, for the first time since she lost her virginity, she could feel some pain in her core. She glanced down, marveling at the way he stretched her to the limit, his outline visible against her stomach. This moment, this conquest, had been all she could think about since that day in the car and now, Y/N was hers.

The maknae locked eyes with her leader, seeing a mixture of rage and heartbreak in Yeji's gaze as she began to move. One of the people Yeji trusted most was now claiming what should have been hers alone. The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, while Yeji sat there, helpless, forced to watch the person she loved being taken by someone else.

Yuna couldn't believe it. Finally, she had gotten her chance with this monster and she was determined to make the most of it. Fuck, he's reaching places I never knew was possible, she thought, running her hands along his chest. Yuna stared at Yeji over in the corner, smirking at the sheer agony and betrayal she saw reflected back at her. The knowledge that she was stealing something precious, something that belonged to Yeji alone, for some reason fueled her desire.

Y/N groaned beneath her, his fingers digging into the bed as he bucked up instinctively. "Yeji... you feel so good baby, let me touch you," he murmured, lost in the haze of pleasure.

Yeji felt like she had been punched in the gut. Even now, even as Yuna took him for herself, Y/N's words proved that his heart still belongs entirely to her.

Yuna began to move faster, rolling her hips in a sensual rhythm. The wet sounds of their coupling filled the room, along with Y/N's increasingly desperate moans. Each plunge of his length into her soaked core brought Yuna closer to the edge, but she gritted her teeth, determined not to let go until she had milked him dry.

Yuna gave her all to riding her new toy, she could feel every vein pulsing against her stomach, assuming that was an indication of his upcoming release, she sped up some more needing to take his seed into her.

A sheen of sweat formed on Yuna's forehead as she continued grinding her hips. Unaware that Y/N hadn’t fully entered her yet, two more inches remained unclaimed. Suddenly, he thrust upward, catching her off guard. The unexpected depth sent a shock through her body, causing her to unravel completely. She thought she had taken all of him, but that final plunge pushed her past her limit, making her tremble as she surrendered to the intense wave.

Yeji watched as her group mate quivered on top of her boyfriend, her legs shaking just likes Yeji's during the first night, but he wasn't done yet, Y/N feeling the quivers on his cock and wanted to bring more pleasure to his lover, he kept pushing his hips higher and higher causing Yuna to release his cock from her pussy before screaming and squirting uncontrollably all over his chest and blindfolded face.

She stared at his damp body, completely stunned. The overwhelming pleasure had taken her to an uncharted place, leaving her body trembling. Yet, the princess refused to give up until she reached her goal. Slowly, she grasped his cock again. Once eager, she now gazed at it with a flicker of fear, hesitating before slipping it in once more.

Yuna's heart raced as she rode Y/N with wild abandon, her desperation growing with each passing second. She needed him to fill her, to claim her completely. But no matter how hard she bounced, how tight she clenched around him, he remained frustratingly hard.

"Why...won't...you...cum...already?" she panted, her words broken between thrusts. She was too far gone to care about her voice being heard, too consumed by her own need.

Glancing at Yeji, Yuna's eyes widened as she saw her unnie's calm smile. It was the complete opposite of her own frantic energy. Yeji's eyes never left hers, a knowing glint in their dark depths.

Yuna's mind spun, trying to make sense of Yeji's behavior. Why is she happy? Hadn't they been fighting? Were she and Y/N on the brink of breaking up? How could Yeji be so unbothered?

Before she could unravel the mystery, a hand landed on her shoulder. Yeji's fingers brushed lightly over her skin, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Yuna shivered at the intimate touch, her hips stuttering in their relentless rhythm.

"Keep going, Yuna," Yeji purred, her voice soft but laced with mocking amusement. "You're almost there."

Fear flickered in Yuna's chest as Yeji leaned in close, her breath ghosting over Yuna's ear. "Did you really think you were pulling the strings this whole time?" she whispered, her tone dark and dripping with mirth.

"Uh-I-I" Yuna stammered as her mind raced, trying to process Yeji's words. What? But this was my plan, my carefully laid trap to snare Y/N. He is now mine, wasn't he?

Yeji chuckled, sending a shiver down Yuna's spine as her grip tightened on Yuna's shoulders. "That's your problem, Yuna. You always say you want something, but you can never handle it," she teased, her voice laced with challenge. "How about I give you a chance?"

With her hand firmly gripping Yuna’s shoulders, Yeji used her body weight to slam Yuna down, pressing her flush against Y/N's thighs. Yuna's cries now mirrored the screams she had once recorded on her phone—except while Yeji’s were laced with pleasure, Yuna’s were filled with pain. Y/N hadn’t even moved yet, and already, tears were beginning to form in Yuna’s eyes.

Yuna’s stomach twisted, her confidence faltering as Yeji’s words settled in. She looked down at Y/N, her breath catching when she saw that the ropes that had appeared to bind him were now lying discarded on the bed. His hands weren’t tied. He had never been restrained.

Y/N’s eyes, no longer blindfolded, met hers, dark and unflinching. The realization crashed down on her like a wave. She had been played from the beginning.

“You... you knew?” Yuna whispered, her voice trembling.

Yeji chuckled softly, her lips brushing Yuna’s ear. “Of course he knew, He’s mine Yuna. He’s always been mine.”

Yuna’s body tensed as Y/N’s hands suddenly gripped her hips. His hold was firm but passive, waiting for direction. It wasn’t Y/N who was in control—it was Yeji.

“Let her feel it baby.” Yeji commanded softly, her voice as smooth as silk. “Show her exactly what she thought she wanted.”

Without hesitation, Y/N obeyed, swiftly flipping the youngest onto the bed, positioning her on her hands and knees. A loud slap echoed as Yeji’s hand connected with her cheeks, just as Y/N thrust into Yuna with brutal force. The impact made her gasp, clutching the sheets for support. But Yeji wasn’t satisfied. She commanded Y/N to grab Yuna’s arms and use them as leverage to pull her deeper onto him. Now, with Y/N holding her arms, Yuna's fingers clawed desperately at the air, searching for anything to hold onto. His movements were relentless, and any control she had earlier dissolved completely, leaving her powerless to keep up with the unyielding pace he set.

“No... wait...” Yuna whimpered, her voice strained, but Y/N didn’t stop. His hands gripped her tighter, driving into her relentlessly, his cock filling her over and over, pushing her closer to a breaking point. The soft rhythm she had started was gone, replaced by his harsh, unforgiving pace.

Yeji made her way in front of her maknae, watching with a cold, satisfied gaze. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. “You wanted to have him for yourself. Well, now you have him.”

Yuna’s mind spiraled as Y/N’s thrusts grew harder, faster. Her body responded instinctively, the pain pushing away the little pleasure that was mixing in a dizzying blur, her mind was screaming in defeat. This wasn’t what she had wanted. Not like this.

“I can’t—” Yuna tried to speak, her voice cracking as her body trembled with overstimulation.

“You’ll cum again, and again” Yeji interrupted, her tone sharp and commanding. “And you’ll keep cumming until I say you’re done.”

Yuna’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body betraying her as the pleasure built within, fast and uncontrollable. She couldn’t stop it—couldn’t stop herself from reacting. Her muscles tensed, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N’s unrelenting thrusts pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

Consequently, she shattered. Her body convulsed as an orgasm tore through her, her inner walls clenching around Y/N’s cock as she cried out, the sound desperate and ragged.

"ahh ahh UNNIE please it hurts, I cant take it anymore!" tears were starting to fall from the youngest's eyes.

Y/N didn’t stop though, His pace remained steady, thrusting into her even as she shuddered through her release, the pleasure replaced by pain as her overstimulated body struggled to keep up.

Yeji smiled, her hand moving to Yuna’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “Again,” she said simply, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “You’re not done.” She then gave a quick hard slap to Yuna's chest. The sound reverberated through the room. Yeji smiled as everything was coming full circle.

Yuna’s body jerked with every thrust, her mind lost in the overwhelming mix of sensations. Another orgasm built within her, even more intense than the last, but this time it was different. This time, it felt like too much—like her body was about to break.

Y/N’s hands tightened on her wrists, his breath growing ragged as his own release neared. Yuna could feel him pulsing inside her, his cock twitching as he struggled to hold back. But just as he was about to spill inside her, Yeji’s hand shot out, pressing firmly against Y/N’s abdomen.

“No,” she said sharply, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Not yet I'm still not done with her.”

Y/N groaned, his entire body trembling as he fought against the urge to finish. His cock remained hard, still thrusting into Yuna with agonizing precision, but he obeyed, holding back despite the unbearable tension and pain building within him.

Yuna whimpered, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body neared the edge again. She couldn’t take any more—couldn’t handle the relentless assault on her senses. But her body refused to listen, and with one particularly brutal thrust to that one spot she had always hoped someone would hit. It was game over, she came again, her body convulsing violently as her vision blurred, white-hot pleasure tearing through her.

Y/N followed soon after with one last deep thrust, but instead of what Yuna had been hoping for, he pulled out at the final moment. A guttural groan escaped him as he climaxed all over her body, his release coating her skin rather than filling her as she had been working towards. Yuna lay there, breathless and trembling, her body aching from the intensity. She was spent, and all she could do was lie there, too far gone to even voice her apology.

Yeji observed with quiet satisfaction, her own emotions stirred by the scene before her. Yuna, gasping for air, her face streaked with tears. But Yeji wasn't finished yet. She leaned down, gently flipping Yuna onto her back, her fingers tracing along Yuna’s cheek with an unsettling, almost mocking tenderness, as if savoring the control she held.

“You’ll remember this, Yuna,” Yeji whispered, her voice soft but icy. “You’ll remember that you mean nothing to him. That no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try… I’m the leader, and I’ll always have control. Over everything. Even you.”

Yuna sobbed weakly, her body trembling uncontrollably as Yeji finally stepped back, her gaze still filled with cruel satisfaction.

"You're done now," Yeji said calmly, brushing her hands off as if discarding Yuna along with the rest of the moment. She took a step back, eyes still trained on Yuna, who lay gasping for air, utterly broken.

Yuna’s chest heaved with exhaustion, her vision blurred with tears. The room seemed to spin, but all she could feel was the dull ache coursing through her body—the result of the punishment she had endured, the humiliation crashing over her in waves. Her hands clutched the bed sheets beneath her as though they were the only solid thing keeping her tethered to reality.

Yeji gave a final glance at Yuna’s trembling form before turning her gaze to Y/N. “Let’s go,” she said, her voice no longer cruel, but flat—emotionless.

Y/N, still reeling from the intensity of his release, nodded silently. He rose from Yuna's limp body and began dressing, his movements slow and methodical, as if trying to shrug off the weight of what had just happened. He didn’t glance back at her—not once.

Together, Yeji and Y/N left the room without another word, leaving Yuna behind—still sprawled out on the bed, her body shuddering with sobs. The door clicked shut behind them, and the oppressive tension that had filled the air inside the room finally dissipated.

The hallway was silent, the faint sounds of Yuna’s sobs muffled through the walls. Yeji and Y/N walked down the corridor, side by side, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet. The moment they turned the corner, and the door was out of sight, Yeji stopped in her tracks. She let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. The strong, composed mask she had worn in front of Yuna crumbled in an instant.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face. “God, that was harder than I thought it would be…” she whispered, her voice filled with exhaustion and the weight of what had just transpired.

Y/N turned to her, his brow furrowed with concern. He hadn’t spoken much during the entire ordeal, following Yeji’s instructions to the letter, but now that it was over, the guilt in his eyes was palpable.

“I didn’t want to do that,” Y/N muttered, his voice low and filled with regret. “I didn’t want to touch her like that, Yeji. It didn’t feel right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor as if ashamed. “I was wishing it was you the whole time.”

Yeji’s eyes softened as she looked up at him. She could see the guilt etched into every line of his face. This wasn’t easy for him, but he had done it for her. She had asked him to, and despite how much it weighed on him, he had agreed because he trusted her.

She stepped closer to him, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm. “I know,” she said quietly. “I know you didn’t want to, and I’m sorry I had to ask you to go through with it. But I needed to show her that she can’t just walk in and take what’s ours.”

Her voice wavered slightly, the strength she had shown earlier cracking around the edges. “I needed to protect us. To show her that there are consequences. If we let it happen, she would take you again and again, I know her”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, lifting his hand to cover hers where it rested on his arm. His fingers were warm, and for the first time since they had left the room, some of the tension seemed to ease from his posture. “I get it,” he said, his voice still laced with guilt, “but it still didn’t feel right.”

Yeji swallowed, her own eyes starting to glisten with the weight of what she had done. She hadn’t enjoyed it, even though she had appeared so strong and in control. It had hurt her more than she wanted to admit, but she had felt like there was no other way to protect their relationship from someone like Yuna—someone who had been ready to steal Y/N away.

“It wasn’t easy for me either,” she admitted softly, her hand tightening around his. “I had to act like it didn’t affect me, like it didn’t hurt, but the whole time…” She took a shaky breath. “I hated it.”

Y/N looked at her, the compassion in his eyes breaking through the cold distance that had settled between them during the ordeal. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. Yeji let herself fall into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and for a moment, they stood there in the quiet hallway, clinging to each other as if trying to rid themselves of the lingering shadows of what had just happened.

“I’m sorry I made you go through that,” Yeji whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “But thank you... thank you for helping me.”

Y/N ran his fingers through her hair, comforting her as her body shook slightly in his arms. “I’d do anything for you, Yeji,” he said softly. “Even that.” He kissed the top of her head gently, letting out a deep breath. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

Yeji nodded, pulling back slightly to look up at him, her eyes still wet with unshed tears. “It’s over now,” she whispered. “And we don’t have to deal with her anymore. She won’t come between us again.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly. “We’re okay,” he assured her, his voice filled with quiet strength. “We’ve got each other.”

Yeji smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “We always have,” she whispered, the weight of the ordeal slowly lifting as they stood together, finding comfort in each other’s presence. The strong façade she had worn was gone now, replaced by the vulnerability she only allowed herself to show in front of Y/N.

They stood in the hallway for a few moments longer, just holding each other, breathing in the quiet now that the storm had passed. Finally, Yeji pulled away, wiping her eyes and steadying herself.

“Come on,” she said softly, her voice regaining a bit of its strength. “Let’s get some air.”

Y/N nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked away from the room, leaving Yuna behind, broken and defeated. The two of them stepped into the fresh air outside, away from the suffocating atmosphere that had filled the house, and as they walked side by side, they knew they had survived something together—something neither of them had wanted, but something they had needed to go through to protect what they had.

And now, it was just them again.

Epilogue: A New Awakening

The soft twilight spilled into the house as Y/N and Yeji returned from catching some fresh air. Drained from the day’s events, Y/N decided it was time to call it a night.

“I’ll meet you there. I’m a little thirsty, so I’ll just grab some water,” Yeji said, her voice tired. She smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before watching him disappear into his room. Once he was gone, Yeji exhaled a deep sigh, taking a long sip of ice-cold water before heading upstairs. But instead of going directly to the bedroom where Y/N was, she found herself pausing outside the guest room just a few doors down.

Standing in the dim light, Yeji felt a rush of unfamiliar emotions. What had always been subtle feelings she could ignore now churned inside her, pulling her in different directions. The playful teasing from Yuna earlier had stirred something in her—a boldness that both excited and confused her. It wasn’t just about mischief anymore; it felt like she was discovering something new about herself, a part she hadn’t fully understood until now.

As she lingered in the hallway, she bit her lip. Should I tell him? The thought nagged at her. Y/N had always been the one she shared everything with, but this was different. Would it even make sense to explain? Would he understand? A quiet sigh left her lips as she weighed the options, torn between wanting to let him in and fearing how he might see her afterward.

After a moment, Yeji shook her head, deciding to leave that conversation for another day—another version of herself to handle later. With that, she quietly slipped into the guest room.

Inside, the atmosphere was charged with a sense of anticipation. Yeji’s earlier hesitation gave way to a feeling of control, something thrilling. The wand vibrator she had swiped earlier rested in her hoodie pocket, ready for what she had planned. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she imagined how the night would unfold. This wasn’t just a playful act of revenge—it was about Yeji stepping into a version of herself she was only beginning to explore.

She approached Yuna, who was still peacefully asleep, her movements slow and deliberate. With calculated precision, Yeji tied Yuna’s wrists and ankles to the bedposts, leaving her spread-eagle and completely at her mercy. Yuna remained blissfully unaware as Yeji secured the vibrator tightly against her, ensuring it was perfectly positioned for what was about to come.

When Yeji flicked the switch, the soft hum filled the room. Almost instantly, Yuna’s body twitched, the unexpected sensation jolting her awake. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion, her gaze slowly registering the restraints holding her in place.

“U-Unnie? I thought we were done…” Yuna mumbled groggily, her voice shaky as she tried to comprehend the situation.

Yeji leaned in close, her voice low and teasing. “You might be... but I’m not.”

Yuna’s confusion quickly turned into panic as she tugged against the restraints, her breathing growing erratic. “Please... Unnie, stop... it hurts,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with fear.

But Yeji simply smiled, savoring the sight of Yuna helpless and pleading beneath her. The power of the moment surged through her, fueling her excitement. She took a step back, watching as Yuna squirmed in vain against her bonds, her soft cries filling the room.

“Unnie... please don’t leave me like this,” Yuna begged, her voice filled with desperation. “I'll be good, just stop… please... Unnie... Unnie....Unnie! ” her plea progressively getting louder and louder.

Yeji paused at the doorway, casting one last look at Yuna, bound and vulnerable. The sight sent a rush of dark satisfaction through her. Without a word, she slipped out of the room, leaving Yuna trapped in her helpless state.

As Yeji walked down the hallway, Yuna’s muffled cries echoed faintly behind her, growing softer with each step. The sound of Yuna’s pleas was like a quiet, haunting melody that clung to Yeji’s mind, sending a shiver of satisfaction down her spine.

She quietly slid into bed beside Y/N, his sleepy form instinctively wrapping around her in a warm embrace. The contrast between his gentle touch and the lingering thrill of what she had just done made her feel more alive, more in control. She nestled into his chest, letting his warmth soothe her as she closed her eyes.

But even as she drifted off to sleep, the faint sound of Yuna’s helpless pleas stayed with her, a soft reminder of the power she had wielded tonight. It was something new, something thrilling, and in that moment, Yeji realized she had truly stepped into a side of herself she hadn’t known before.

she had awakened.

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